My heart jumped up in my throat! ‘Omigod, he saw us!’ I thought. And as the conversation continued, I realized that he only saw the very end of it, my look at Isaac and then the handshake. I can’t help it when I give out my sexy looks! It was just something natural that happened when I liked someone, and it just so happened that I liked Isaac.

How horrible is it that I love Taylor so much, but have feeling, really strong feelings for his brother? It seems like something out of an Internet story or something. If only life was as easy an a story...then things wouldn’t be so damn stressful or hard to figure out!

I was greatly relieved to know that Taylor didn’t know about the kiss. I didn’t know what I would do if he ever found out. I just pray that he never does find out. I shudder to think...

Days passed, Taylor and I grew closer, and as we grew closer, I shut off Isaac. I felt really bad about it, but I couldn’t help it. I guess I *could* help it, but I chose not to see him as much as I did before in fear that something would happen between us again. Or that a look on his or my face would give something away.

I spent almost all of my free time over at the Hanson house, being with Taylor most of the time. Sometimes we would sit down and play a few family games, like Scrabble, or Uno, but for the most part, Taylor and I were alone. I didn’t understand because I know that my parents would never let us have that much ‘alone time’ if we would be at my house, which probably explains why I was over there a lot more than we were at my house. It surprised me, too, because all of his siblings, not bothering us! I guess they all have a sense of privacy because there are so many of them.

I loved his family. I was an only child, which is great, but at the same time, it really sucks. I loved his family because there was never a dull moment, and there was always something going on. Either someone fighting with someone else, an argument, or what not. It seemed too weird to be there and it be quiet, which happened very seldom.

Close to Thanksgiving is when Diana first approached me about my ballet. Honestly, I hadn’t forgotten about it, I just never signed up for classes once we returned to Tulsa. I still did the daily exercises in my leotards and on the barre that I had my dad put in my room so I could keep in shape.

“Darling, I remember when you were just a small tike, running around in your little pink tu-tu; you looked adorable. Do you still take classes?” she asked me. In a way, I was sort of surprised that she still remembered that.

“I took classes after we moved to Santa Fe, but when we moved back here, I never signed up again, but I still practice at home.” I said, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks. I wasn’t embarrassed to talk about it, but I didn’t feel right talking about it because it had been a long time since I had talked about it to someone.

“You were always so wonderful, dear. You should really think about signing up again.” She insisted. I nodded, but didn’t really reply.

“Yeah,” piped up Taylor, “do you still dance?” The tone of his voice made me smile. I knew what he meant. He wanted to know if I still wore those ridiculously skimpy leos...what a moron.

“Not really…I mean, I practice, but I’m not in class.” I shrugged off. The truth was, I was missing ballet like crazy. It was basically my life in Santa Fe. I could do all the exercises blindfolded, along with a few plays. I played the lead in Beauty and the Beast two years in a row. Advancing to pointe was difficult, but I had it practically mastered when I was 13. Wow, I hadn’t realized how much I missed it until now.

Watching her dance, I remembered, was so soothing and relaxing. I hoped that she would sign back up; she was truly talented. After a week of tormenting and pleading, I finally got her to sign back up.

“Do you know if Madame Rose is still around?” she asked me.

I shrugged my shoulders. “ you’re gonna do it?”

“I might as well, I mean, I love to dance, why not?” she replied. Her eyes were smiling. I knew that it was something that she really wanted to do. And watching her when she does something for you. “But you have to come with me when I go in tomorrow.”

“I promise, I’ll go.”


“Ready?” I heard when I answered the phone at 9:30 in the morning.

“Ready for what?” I asked groggily.

She sighed. “Get up! I’ll be at your place in about 10 minutes.” Was all she said, then hung up. Beth, I thought, you’re lucky I love you so much or else I wouldn’t be dragging myself out of bed this early in the morning. I hurried and got dressed and ran a brush through my hair. And true to her word, she was here in about 10 minutes. She had a bag slung over her shoulder, her hair was down, and she looked so great. I couldn’t get over it because it was so early and she still looked great.

She smiled when I opened the door. I could see the excitement in her eyes, in her smile; it was written allover her! I never really noticed before, but she was so graceful when she walked; she belonged with ballet. She took my hand in hers as we walked towards Madame Rose’s Ballet Studio.

When we got there, she rang the bell on the front desk, and a short lady, with gray-white hair came to the desk. She looked sharply at Beth, determining if she was a dancer or not. The lady’s hair was pulled back so tightly that it pulled the skin around her eyes back, making it tight across her bones. It seemed as if she would smile, her skin would rip.

“Who are you?” she asked us, her voice sharp. She sounded like a lady who never took any crap from anybody, no matter how good you were. Beth sorta backed away from her rudeness, but I placed my hand on her back, pushing her forward.

“I’m Beth, Beth Guinnesson. I left a message on your machine last night telling you that I would be stopping in this morning. You called me this morning at 7:00 confirming my message.” She said. The lady appeared to be in great thought. Then her eyes lit up, like a light bulb, suddenly remembering.

“Lovely.” Her tongue was still sharp. “I’m Madame Rose. Go in the locker room to change, and get that hair of yours pulled back.” She ordered. Beth nodded, then took off quickly. M. Rose looked me over. “Are you her partner? If so, then I suggest you better get in your tights, along with a decent hair cut. Male ballet dancers should always keep themselves looking neat and tidy.”

“Oh, no, I’m not her partner. I don’t even dance. Beth asked me to come with her this morning.” I said, rather embarrassed that she took such an attitude with me.

“What are you to her then? Some sort of boyfriend?”

“Yeah, we’ve been together a little over two months.” I said. I don’t know why, but I felt obligated to tell her the time period of our relationship. Her eyes narrowed, and she looked me over again.

“Listen here,” she began, her tone still as vitriolic as it was before, if not more. “None of my dancers can be involved with someone while they are dancing for me. Teenagers today have no respect for their bodies and are often careless when it comes to sex. Ballet dancers can not do such things. An unwanted pregnancy can ruin not only their dancing careers, but also their entire lives. Just remember than, sonny.” She finished her speech, just in time, because Beth emerged from changing.

She wore a pale purple color leotard, with matching pointe shoes, and her hair was pulled back in the same tight fashion that M. Rose wore hers. She looked different in those tight leos and pointe shoes and with her hair pulled back like that than I remembered. Not that it was something bad, it was good because she looked really beautiful. M. Rose looked over to her, smiled approvingly, if you could even call it a smile, then gracefully walked over to where the stereo system was.

“I assume you brought your own music, Miss Guinnesson?” M. Rose said, rather a command than a question. Beth nodded and pulled a CD from her bag, and handed it to her. Her eyes seemed to come alive when she saw that it was from Phantom of the Opera. “Dance your heart out, Miss Guinnesson, then when you are finished, I will decided which level you will be ready for. Please begin.”

When the music started, I took a seat in one of the folding chairs that was near the stereo. It was overcome by the breathtaking performance by Beth. I knew her, but recently, I never knew this side of her. It was as if I was in a trance, watching her dance so beautifully, with such skill. It was a wonder at how she could move so serenely and everything looked so in sync with the music.

Chapter 15
Chapter 17 n/a