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“But he—”
“Don't try and use him to manipulate me,” I snap. “It's not going to work. If you have something to say to me, then say it and get out.”
Inessa presses her lips into a thin line. I'm pretty sure it's been a long time since someone dared speak to her like I am. It feelsgood. Overdue. I wonder if she likes getting a taste of her own medicine, to see all her nastiness reflected back at her through her daughter—one she apparently never wanted to begin with.
“I wanted to apologize.”
I break out into laughter. “Apologize? Seriously?”
“What I said out of anger… It wasn't right.”
“But it was the truth, wasn't it?”
She pauses for just a little too long. “Of course it wasn't the truth.”
“I don't believe you.” With my hair finally fixed and my makeup perfectly in place, I reach for the Sugar Plum Fairy’s beautiful tiara and set it upon my head, pinning it to my head with clips. Even through all of my spins and fouettés, this thing is so secure there's no way it's going to fly off mid-routine.
“Look, Nikita—”
“I'm retiring after this.”
Mother looks genuinely horrified. “What?”
“This is my first and only performance. I’m sure you’ll find another dancer for next season.”
“Don't be absurd. If this is your way of getting back at me—”
“It's not. This is somethingIwant.”
“But all those years of training will go to waste.”
“That's certainly your opinion. I don't see it that way.”
Inessa clenches her fists. “Listen, Nikita. You're being ungrateful.”
“This ismylife,” I say with an embittered sigh. “I'm tired of letting you tell me what to do. Sorry I couldn't live out your dream for you, but that's not what I want for myself.”
For the first time in my life, my mother looks like she's on the brink of tears. I've struck a chord with her, dashed her dreams—no matter how twisted and manipulative they might be. I pity her. Truly, I do. She couldn't have the career she wanted when she was in her prime, and now she can't have it through me. I have to remind myself that's not my problem. I'm in control now, and I want to do what makes me happiest.
“Go out there and watch me dance. Not as my ballet master. Not as my mother. But as one ballerina to another. That's all I ask of you.”
Without another word, I push past her and start toward the stage. I stretch and warm up in the wings, ignoring all the stares and the gossip. There's something surprisingly liberating about knowing I'll never have to see or deal with these people again. I'm buzzing with excitement now that none of it weighs on me. I'm here to dance my heart out, and there's really only one person in the crowd whose opinion I care for.
I'm in the zone, my mind humming with adrenaline. I know every step by heart, every musical beat and pause.
And then it's finally my time to shine.
I step out on cue to a smattering of polite applause, but that's not good enough for me. By the end of this song, I hope to have everyone out of their seats cheering my name.
My muscle memory kicks in—every turn, every step, every delicate gesture of my hand. I enter a sort of hypnotic state, moving about the stage with the command and confidence all my years of training have instilled within me. I float on the notes of the music. I spin beneath the lights, lost in my own little world full of paper confetti snow, toy soldiers dressed up in their uniforms, and a backdrop that looks so sweet I could eat it.
I feel like I'm floating. There's no weight to my steps, only the gentle glide from motion to motion. I feel magical, as all Sugar Plum Fairies should. There's a delightful tingle in the tips of my fingers, in my chest. I am lighter than air and nobody can stop me as I spread joy from the stage and into the theater just beyond. I may be breathless, but I keep going, driven by pure adrenaline.
Time dilates. I’m in a little world of my own, one I almost wish I could live in for the rest of my life. For the first time in years, I finally feelfree. I am free to enjoy this moment in history. There will never be another performance like this. Not by me, not by anybody. What I’m creating here on stage is a unique experience, never to happen again—which is all the more reason to savor it.
When the music finally comes to an end and I hold my final pose, it takes me a while for my brain to catch up to the sound of applause. It’sthunderous, practically shaking the entire theater. People cheer and whistle. Their smiles and looks of awe send a shiver racing down my spine. I bask in the glory, warm and fuzzy all over.
I did it. I was perfect. And when I look up to the box seats to my right I see—
