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I blink at her. "Okay. Well, I was going to get a scholarship here, and I kind of screwed that up, but I was wondering if I could talk to someone about maybe auditioning, or how I can try to get admittance here?"
She blinks back at me this time. A little unsure on how to proceed. Her red fingernail taps against the desk.
"Is there anyone I can talk to?" I bite my lip, worried she's about to turn me away. Call security or something.
Did I really blow my chance?
She must see the panicked look on my face, the tears in my eyes. She stands from her chair, giving me a small smile. "I'll be right back."
"Thank you." I blink away my tears, stepping back and watching her walk away. She heads down the hall, out of sight. I turn around, looking at the tall ceilings. The glass walls that show the city. The expensive interior, the high-end tiled floors. Everything is extravagant. Everything is beautiful.
I want this so bad.
"Ms. Lewis?" I turn around, seeing a woman walking up to me in a pressed pantsuit. Her hair is pulled back into a tight bun, her thin limbs long and delicate.
"Yes?" I ask, suddenly nervous.
"Come with me, please."
I follow her, her heels clapping on the tiled floor while my worn sandals slap against my feet. I really should've done more before coming here. Done my hair, even, instead of just washing it and brushing it with Roman’s flimsy black comb.
At least I brushed my teeth.
We walk into a grand office, the windows behind her looking out onto the beautiful city of New York. She points to a seat in front of a desk. "Sit down, please."
I do as she asks, pulling the chair up to the edge of the desk. I cross my leg over the other, then uncross my legs, sliding my hands between my thighs. It's chilly in here, and goosebumps break out along my arms.
"Luna Lewis," she says, sitting down at her desk. She slides glasses on her nose, perching them on the edge and looking at me over the top of them. She has a file on her desk, and her thin fingers tap over the top of it. “My name is Ms. Ramy, I’m the Admissions Director and one of the teachers here at Julliard.”
"Hi." I smile. "I know this might be weird, but I dance with—"
She puts up a hand, and my eyes go wide, stopping mid-sentence.
"I know exactly who you are, Luna."
My jaw goes slack. "You do?"
She smiles, albeit slightly stiff. "Yes, I do. I am very good friends with Leona. We have spoken about you for years. She told me many times about her star dancer from a small town in Wisconsin. How she would dance over every building in New York City. She said you would put the dancers here to shame. I didn't believe her, but then she showed me tapes of you."
Tapes? I had no idea she taped me.
She nods, as if she could read my thoughts. "Yes, and I was quite surprised to see she was right. You had a great talent, Luna. Something not many people are born with. But, when she called and told me you'd quit dancing, it broke not only her heart, but all of ours as well. We had hoped to have you here. But you never came, Luna, and it's been years. So, tell me, why are you here now?"
Words can't form. I had no idea I made such a big impact, that the domino effect of my life has led us here, to this point now.
I've blown it all.
I take a deep breath, spilling everything on the table. "I, um, I went through some stuff a few years back, and it took me a while, but I'm here now. This," I say, looking around, "is where I've always wanted to be. This has been my biggest dream, for as long as I could have them. I know I was in the wrong, and I don't even deserve a chance here at this point, but I still want one. Whatever it will take, I will do it. I want this, so badly." A tear springs to my eye, and I wipe it away. But the woman in front of me sees it, and her face softens, just a little.
She opens her file, and I see my name at the top. My scholarship. She flips through, skimming a few pages before slamming the file shut. Looking up at me once again, she levels me a look. "Like I said, Leona is a dear friend of mine."
I nod.
"And I know you have it in you to be here. Have you danced lately?"
I cringe, shaking my head.
She blows out a breath. A disappointed breath. "Unfortunately, you just missed our auditions for this year. You’ll have to wait until next September. But maybe that’s a good thing. You can practice,get back into dancing. You come back here in one year with a routine. You dance in front of our panel. We will not be generous. You come with everything you’ve got, and if you're good enough, then the scholarship is yours."
