Emily: A Girl of Dance.

When things get ugly

DANCE IT OUT.

Emily is a strong girl. She knows the difference between right and wrong. But when it comes to her life, her only escape is dance. She has danced since she was nine and hasn't stopped. Being a paranoid, analytical, and overly stressed out sixteen year old, Emily welcomes the blisters of hard work. They scream to her that she has something to live for, that there is a pathway pathed out and ready for her to walk in the near future.

She snatches her sweat towel from the bench, dabbing her forehead and neck until her instructor calls the group of dancer back to the center of the room. Mrs. Darby, her instructor, pairs Emily up with Sam, a seventeen year old male at least three skill levels above her.
Emily rolls her eyes as he gives her a smug smile.

She hated Sam because he was always so full of himself. He acted like he was the king of dance, but little did he know that Emily would knock him off his reign and soon.
Mrs.Darby plays the music and instructs Emily and Sam to step forward. They do, and knowing the drill they face each other. It was custom that every week the dancers were to be assessed individually and in pairs. In order to be the greatest dancer, Emily knew that meant not only being good by yourself under the spotlight but also being brilliant sharing it.

"Your five minutes to discuss a routine begins," Mrs. Darby says.

Taking control, Emily looks straight into Sam's eyes. "Listen, you may be safe no matter how much you screw up because your dad has connections, but my ass is on the line. So, don't screw me up," Emily makes clear.

Sam smirks, "You think I don't have to work to keep my place?"

"Yeah, and I also think the only reason why you are top notch here is because your dad sleeps with the boss of all of your instructors," Emily says nonchalantly.

Sam shakes his head and holds out his hand to her. Emily takes it in confusion.

"We are ready Mrs.Darby," he calls to the instructor.

"What are you doing?" Emily whispers to him in shock. Had she not made herself clear enough?

"I'm doing you a favor, now follow my lead," Sam says, pulling Emily back against his chest, extending her arms and forcing her leg upward into an aerobesque.

The music starts and Sam lifts Emily off the floor. She follows his lead just like he told her to do, dancing on the floor with grace and flowing with him when he lifts her. Before she knew it, the song was over and her and Sam were in an elaborate ending position. There's clapping from the other dancers and Mrs. Darby, who normally didn't clap for anybody, and there's hoots from some of Sam's guy friends.

"Fantastic!" Mrs. Darby exclaims, "That's the best I've ever seen either of you perform!"

Emily looks up at Sam, who is practically beaming with pride. He looks down at her and laughs at Emily's confused look. She couldn't help it that she wasn't exactly sure what just happened. Everyone is acting like she just saved the world from ending, when really all she did was dance with Sam.

"Why are they all so happy?" Emily whispers to Sam as they take their seats and watch the next two dancers go.

"Because we make the perfect match," Sam says with a wink, and then laughs at her disgusted face, "I'm talking about dancing not dating."

"Well, I don't think so," Emily huffs.

"Oh come on, there's no way you didn't feel our connection out there," Sam says, getting serious, "Listen Emily, you're a good dancer, but you and me...we're great."

Emily admits in her head that there defiantly had been a connection, whether she liked it or not, and she figures that Mrs. Darby is going to pair them together now all the time, which makes her feel sick to her stomach. How is it that her dance match is Sam? She had always heard the stories about how dancers will eventually find their dance match, the partner made from heaven, but Sam was no angel. She crosses her arms and looks him in the eye.

"I agree we had a connection, but that doesn't mean we are friends, got it?" Emily tells him sternly.

Sam chuckles and bows slightly, "Okay, your highness."

Emily begins to ignore him then, and is relieved when the class is over for the day. That is until Mrs. Darby calls both Emily and Sam to come see her after class. Emily grabs her duffel bag and approaches her instructor, waiting to be addressed, but it doesn't seem like Mrs. Darby wants to say anything until Sam is present also. Emily's stomach twists into knots, getting a bad feeling about where this is going.
Finally, Sam is standing beside Emily and Mrs. Darby clears her throat for attention.

"Today, I saw the two of you become one of the most elegant and connected dance pairs I've seen in years," she begins, a smile spreading across her face, "So, I want to promote you both."

Emily's mouth drops, "Oh my god, Mrs. Darby, thank-you!"

"But," Mrs. Darby says, and Emily's smile begins to slip, "I want to promote you both out of the individual classes and into a higher level of partner dancing."

"You want to take me out of my individual classes?" Sam asks, clearly distraught. Everyone knew that that is his best category. All Emily can think about is how pathetic he is to be sad over losing a title of popularity. How could he be so selfish?

"Mrs. Darby, can I not just take the individual classes along with the higher skilled class?" Emily asks,mainly because at least individual dancing meant something to her more than a title. In fact, it had been her entire life since she was a kid.

"Absolutely not! I am responsible for what happens to the both of you as long as you're in my class. I cannot simply have an overworked pair of dancers stepping into my individual classes everyday to work yourselves even more," Mrs. Darby says sternly, "You have to chose one."

"I'll do it," Sam decides, his answer choice almost sounding forced, like he was trying to convince himself it is the right choice to make.

Mrs. Darby nods and then looks at Emily. Emily looks down at her trembling hands, wondering if she could really give up her spotlight that she's worked so hard for. She really thought she might be able to compete in a solo division competition this year and win. But Emily has been waiting for this promotion for months now. Moving to a higher level would mean she had more of a chance of getting into her dream college, Juilliard.

"Fine, I'll give it a try," Emily decides.

Mrs. Darby beams and shoos us both away, "Brilliant, now go rest yourselves before tomorrow morning. Be here at seven a.m. and don't be late!"

Emily and Sam exit the building, one going one way and the other going another way. Emily walks down the sidewalk to her house that's about seven blocks away. She hates that her father hasn't been a good enough dad to take her to get her driver's license yet. He is always too busy to care bout his own daughter. She trudges along, head hanging and depression. Emily felt like a small part of her was just taken away when she decided to give up on her individual dancing career. Had she made the right decision?