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Then...
The week after we kissed in the auditorium was unexpected, yet it felt like a dream come true.Sanford stayed with me in London for the entire time.Amidst going to school, studying, and, well, we fucked.It was ...paradise.We spoke with our ballerina daily and texted often.Even after Sanford left, we had three-way calls and exchanged messages at least five times a day, if not more.
When she received her college acceptances, we decided to do a video conference so we could help her figure out where to go.
Nervous anticipation runs through me as I connect to the virtual room.This might decide the course of our relationship.Outside, the rain drizzles gently, mirroring the butterflies in my stomach.The moment I lay eyes on them, a smile lights up my face.I miss them so much, but it will be a couple of months before we can be together again.
“Where are you?”I ask, noticing the backdrop of what seems like a coffee shop, not someone’s home.
“I’m at the coffee shop near the academy,” she replies, sipping from a paper cup.“Mom thinks I’m practicing before the one-on-one I teach at seven o’clock.She would die if she knew I ate three croissants and drank a large hot chocolate.”
“You shouldn’t be giving classes that late,” Sanford jumps in.
He’s worried about her safety.I’m more worried that she’s overeating when her mother is not watching and ...I just pray it’s all she does.Her relationship with food scares me, but I can’t even help her when she’s still around her toxic mother.
“Please don’t start on me.I know how to take care of myself after taking those self-defense classes from Mr.Bradley.”
“Still, I don’t want to worry about you,” Sanford argues.
She glances at me, silently pleading for a change of topic before Sanford gets too protective.
“So, you got your college acceptances, huh?”I say, trying to lighten the mood.“What do we need to decide?If London is part of it, I suggest you just accept.”
“The Juilliard School accepted me, but they didn’t offer me a scholarship.”She pauses, her expression turns crestfallen.“Mom is pretty upset with me.I failed.”
“There are other schools,” I remind her, trying to offer some hope.I wish I were in Seattle so I could hug her and reassure her that everything would be fine.
“Royal Ballet School, San Francisco Ballet School, and Paris Opera offered a partial scholarship,” she mutters, clearly disappointed.
“Did you apply for the Cooperson scholarship like I told you?”I ask.My older brother manages that part of our non-profit organization.If I pay for it, he might give it to her immediately.
“Not yet.I was hoping ...”Her voice trails off, almost breaking my heart.I don’t know how to fix this if she won’t let us help.
“How about New York University?”I ask, steering the conversation in a different direction.
“Mom doesn’t want me to go there.She says it’s beneath me.”She scoffs, rolling her eyes in defiance.
“Where do you want to go?”Sanford finally chimes in.
“Anywhere that allows me to do more than just dance,” she confesses.
“NYU,” Sanford says as I reply, “Then go to wherever the fuck you want.Your mother shouldn’t be a deciding factor.This is your life.”
“I can’t just waste my talent,” she argues.“Plus, I didn’t apply to any other school.”
“Go to Juilliard,” I say while Sanford repeats, “NYU.It’s more thanjustan arts school.”
“We can’t afford either of them,” she reminds me, and there’s resignation in her voice.“Maybe if I had practiced less and studied more, I would be considered for a scholarship.”
“You’re incredibly talented, and it baffles me why they didn’t offer you a full-ride scholarship,” I mutter, and I can’t mask the frustration and disbelief.
“Maybe that’ll come later,” Sanford, who’s been distracted, says.“Juilliard might be sending you the scholarship notice later.”
Our ballerina frowns.“Don’t they send everything at the same time?”
He shrugs.“Let’s hope that’s not the case.”
“It’s time for me to go,” she announces, blowing us a kiss before disappearing from the screen.
