Dancing for the Lord The Academy

Chapter Five

Danni spent all day Saturday locked in her room with her books in front of her, ignoring as many requests for her company as it was considered polite to ignore…and maybe a few that weren’t. Madalyn decided that she was completely crazy—and told her so. The other girls, thankfully, didn’t really care what she did, so for the most part, they left her alone.

Danni remained engrossed in her schoolwork. She was determined; and by the end of the day, she had completed a couple of chapters in each of her textbooks.

She was ready. She was prepared. She could handle this new schedule.

At least, she hoped she could. She knew that she couldn’t actually spend every Saturday locked in her room; but she didn’t want to get trapped in the habit of spending the day playing, either. She didn’t have to worry about rehearsals yet—no one had even officially cast her in a role for The Nutcracker, and anyway, rehearsals for that mostly took place in their dance classes, since it was a school-wide production.

Sunday morning, she woke at her usual early hour. This week, she was going to church if she had to walk into town and explore on her own.

She tried to be quiet as she got ready. Madalyn wouldn’t be up for hours yet, at least as far as she knew; the last thing Danni wanted to do was wake her new friend, especially since she knew Madalyn wouldn’t understand the need she had to go to church.

The house was quiet—eerily so. Since she was up at around the same time as the rest of the students and tended to retreat to her room earlier, Danni had never seen the house so quiet before. She crept down the stairs, carefully avoiding the creaky step in the center. She didn’t want to wake anyone. She just hoped that Mrs. Baxter was up, and would be able to tell her where to find a church.

Thankfully, Mrs. Baxter was in the kitchen making breakfast when Danni came down—not nearly her usual spread, but enough, Danni thought, to feed two or three, with some leftovers tucked in the refrigerator. She raised an eyebrow. “Sundays are for sleeping in around here, huh?”

“What? Oh, yes.” Mrs. Baxter turned, startled. “Yes, the girls work so hard all week, by the time Sunday rolls around, they can’t tear their heads from their pillows.” There was nothing the least bit rude about her words; but Danni could hear the faint note of disapproval there nonetheless.

“It’s kind of sad,” she offered quietly.

“Yes.” Mrs. Baxter bent over to pull a tray of muffins from the oven with a sigh. “Yes, it is. I take it you don’t agree with their philosophy?”

“Not in the least,” Danni admitted. “Actually, I was wondering if you could tell me where to find a church around here.”

“A church? Well—I’ll tell you what.” Mrs. Baxter transferred the muffins from the tin to a plate with a rapid skill that spoke of long practice. “Why don’t you come in with me and Ken, my husband? We attend Mount Tabor in town. If it’s not to your liking, I’ll show you some of the others—but if you come with us, you’ll always have a ride.”

Which was, Danni knew, important. She had a car at home, and her parents would probably bring it up for her when they visited; but for the trip up, they’d wanted her to ride along with someone, and her mother hadn’t wanted to make the drive on that particular day.

“That would be nice,” she agreed.

It was wonderful to be back in church. She had forgotten how much she missed it after missing even a week. Luckily, the Baxters sat in the back, because Danni couldn’t help herself: when the music started, she had to dance, at least a little bit.

Mrs. Baxter smiled slightly, watching her. “You dance for God, don’t you, honey?” she leaned over to ask as they all resumed their seats.

Danni nodded, feeling as though she was glowing. “It’s the only reason to dance.”

“Well.” Mrs. Baxter patted her hand, her smile warming more than Danni had ever seen. “It’s nice to have someone to share the faith with, don’t you think?”

Danni agreed fervently. There was nothing like worshipping along with another believer—someone who understood.

She missed Michael fiercely that morning. For the last several years, every time she had come to church, he had been right there in the pew beside her. The two of them always moved instinctively to the music; and most of the time, they moved with one another, too, cueing off of one another’s body language with no more effort than if the steps had been choreographed ahead of time. Several times, they had been asked to dance in church, and they had agreed without even needing to discuss it.

She didn’t call Michael after church on Sunday in spite of the fact that she desperately wanted to. He would have been through the same aching loneliness the Sunday before, probably experienced it today, as well. No—worse. Michael wouldn’t have been able to dance, wouldn’t have felt that indefinable connection to the Lord that passed between them only when they gave themselves over to the music.

Danni was haunted by the thought of him sitting there, his foot propped up on the seat in front of him. If she’d been there, she would have turned it around backwards; he probably just propped it on the rail at the back of it and let it go. Or…he hadn’t told her how severe the injury was, really. If he had resorted to crutches….

She reached for the phone several times, wanting to check on him; but in the end, she didn’t. Michael would call her if he needed her; and he didn’t need to deal with the fact that she needed him right then. Besides, she had other things to focus on.

Danni worked on her schoolwork for a couple of hours Sunday morning; but enforced stillness just didn’t do it for her. Eventually, she had to move, at least for a little while; so she closed her books and headed over to the main building. There were practice rooms open; and she was determined to find a place to dance.

When Danni got to the main building, all of the rooms were empty. She chose one at random. There was probably a schedule somewhere; but the rooms were much the same as one another. There wasn’t any reason she could think of why it would really matter, as long as everyone who had signed up for a room got one; and since there wasn’t anyone in sight, she didn’t think it would be a problem on this particular afternoon.

Most of the time, Danni danced to classical music. It was the way she had been trained; and it was easier to find her own pattern in a song that had no words. Going to church with Mrs. Baxter, however, had put her in a praise and worship mood; so after she finished warming up, she slipped in one of her praise and worship CDs, moved to the middle of the floor, and simply gave herself over to the music for awhile.

Her heart was pounding. Some of the songs on the CD were not the quiet, gentle songs that she had intended to dance to. Some of them gave her a real workout; and Danni was grateful that she had slipped on a pair of the black ballet slippers rather than her pointe shoes for this particular exercise. She could have kept up with it; but her training kicked in, and she naturally shifted to a little bit of jazz dance.

Actually, didn’t she have a pair of jazz shoes in her bag somewhere? Danni thought about changing; but the music had claimed her, and anyway, it didn’t matter what she was wearing. What mattered was what she did—the way she gave her body over to God, letting him have complete and absolute control of her.

She spun until she was dizzy, leapt to the heights of heaven. Never mind that there was no one to see. Danni knew who she was dancing for.

I’m so glad You’re here, Lord, she prayed silently. So glad. Dancing here, when it’s just You and me…this is when it’s the best. This is when I come home.

The music slowed; and without realizing it, Danni found herself dancing with an invisible partner—dancing as though Michael held her by the hand. There was no one there; but if there had been someone, if they had been watching, they would have almost been able to see the invisible steps of her silent partner, right there beside her in the still room.

The music cut off abruptly. Danni spun, nearly losing her balance before she checked herself and turned the spin into a graceful movement.

The black-haired girl from the hallway—Katarina—glared at her. “I have this room reserved,” she snapped irritably.

Danni stared at her. She had been here for little more than an hour; in that time, had all of the practice rooms filled up?

It wasn’t possible, she realized. There were still empty rooms. Katarina was just giving her a hard time—and the worst part of it was, it was working.

“I—I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t realize—“

“There’s a schedule at the front of the wing.” Katarina folded her arms over her chest, tapping her foot imperiously—though the effect was ruined somewhat by the fact that she was wearing only a pair of socks. “If you want one of the rooms, you fill in the box on the schedule.”

“I—there wasn’t anyone here when I came in,” Danni stuttered.

“Now there is.” Katarina glowered at her. “If you want the room, you fill in the box. If it’s full, you don’t dance here. Period.”

“I—sorry,” Danni mumbled again. She hurried across the room to her dance bag.

Katarina got there first. “I have this room for an hour,” she snapped again. “And you’re cutting into it. Get out.” She slung Danni’s bag out in the hall, her street clothes—neatly folded alongside the bag only moments before—after it.

Danni just stared at her, stunned. Only self-preservation made her scurry out of the room; and somehow, she wasn’t surprised when Katarina slammed the door behind her.

The peaceful mood was broken. Danni didn’t even dare go back for her CD, was in fact grateful that it was just a copy. She and Michael had learned a long time ago that they had a bad habit of leaving CDs in places where they could not be reclaimed, so the set she carried in her dance bag contained no originals.

That was the only good thing about the encounter. Danni’s hands were shaking as she pulled off her shoes, slipped back into her street clothes. The peaceful mood had been broken, leaving only the bitter remains of that joy behind.

She walked back to the house very slowly, doing her best to drink in the peace of the still, cold air. It wasn’t working. Her thoughts were all in turmoil as she took the stairs back to her room.

“What’s wrong?” Madalyn poked her head through the door, dodging back as Danni slung something past her.

“Huh? Oh, nothing. I just need to do some laundry.” There were coin-operated machines just a few miles down the road. The house had a washer and dryer that could be used for free; but for all Danni knew, there was a schedule for those, too, and if she went downstairs, she’d just be breaking it.

Again.

“Out of leotards?” Madalyn asked sympathetically.

“Not quite.” Danni flashed her a grin that she didn’t really feel—a grin that she knew didn’t meet her eyes. “I’ve got another week’s worth, the way things are going—but I’d rather get them done now so that I’m not frantic along about the middle of the week.”

“I understand,” Madalyn admitted. “I just wish I had your discipline.”

“What discipline?” Danni shrugged. “Actually, I’d be set for an extra week if I could wear colors like I did back home—but I have a feeling people would say something if I showed up in, for example, blue and green.” She was just glad she’d been wearing standard black when Katarina showed up that afternoon. Some of her leotards were downright outrageous. She’d never worn them to teach in; but for her individual practices, or under her clothes at school on days when she and Michael were just going to steal an hour or two together? Yeah, she’d let her creative side show a little then.

“People.” Madalyn’s eyes narrowed. “Who’s said something to you?”

Danni winced. If she had wanted to talk about it, she wouldn’t have brushed Madalyn off when she first poked her head into the room.

“Hey.” Madalyn sighed, easing further into the room with the wary air of someone who knows that they might have something hurled at them at any moment. “What’s going on, Danni? I can tell you’re upset.”

Danni sighed. “Come do laundry with me?” she suggested.

“The washer and dryer downstairs are free,” Madalyn offered hesitantly. “I just came through there, and no one was using them.”

Danni glanced down at her load. If it came right down to it, all she had to do was put the leotards through the washer. They would hang to dry in the shower—would, in fact, probably be dry by tomorrow morning. She nodded reluctantly.

She could always retreat back up here if she had to.

It took Danni a while to be able to tell Madalyn what had happened. She wasn’t even really sure why it had upset her so much—just that it had.

“Katarina is a—“ Madalyn repeated the word she’d called the other girl the first time she and Danni discussed her. “Don’t let her get to you, okay? Anyone else would’ve let you keep the room, especially with no one else there.”

“It’s not really the room,” Danni felt compelled to point out. “It’s just…she was so mean about it. What did I do to her?”

“You came,” Madalyn admitted simply. “And it probably doesn’t help that you’re already in pairs, just like her.” She hesitated. “You know, I heard a rumor that the only reason you got wait-listed was because of your partner,” she admitted.

“A rumor.” Danni tried to shrug it off; but she was intrigued in spite of herself. “But why would they do that?”

“It depends, actually—but mostly, I bet they were afraid you’d insist on dancing just with Michael. They really don’t like it when people come in together. I mean, it happens sometimes; but usually, they’ll make the girl wait a year.” Madalyn shrugged. “That’s what one of the older girls said, anyway.”

Danni wasn’t sure whether to believe it or not; but it certainly gave her something to think about. Wait-listed just because of her partner…and she would’ve had to be at the top of that list, for her to be here now. Only Helen had given up before the Christmas production.

She sighed. “I just wish I knew how to fix things between us. She can’t be that mean to everyone, can she?”

“Sure she can.” Madalyn’s voice was dark. “Have you met her?”

Danni couldn’t help but giggle at that one. Yes, she had met Katarina. In fact, she was dreading pairs class the next day, which would almost certainly include the other girl. If only there was some way to avoid seeing her….

As it happened, there was a way to avoid seeing Katarina—or at least a way to avoid another of her tirades. All Danni had to do was hide in the back of the room and not call attention to herself—which she did.

She and another girl were paired together, as she had expected. As the newcomer to the class, she would have to wait for awhile before she managed to get a male partner to dance with—and that was exactly as it should be, Danni decided. She would dance with the other girl—whose name happened to be Kaitlyn—until the teachers assigned her elsewhere.

By the middle of class, Danni had been moved over to dance with Josh. Mlle Kirby, as it turned out, was the pairs instructor, and she was absolutely delighted to see that Danni worked better with Josh than Allie, his previous partner, had. By the end of the session, Josh actually knew the dance that he had been doing; and Danni had even managed to correct his hand placement so that he wasn’t wobbling so much when he caught her in the middle of a turn.

“You’re good at this,” he told her intently.

“Not bad,” she said, shrugging. “Allie seemed a little upset, though—don’t you think you ought to catch up to her and make sure everything’s okay?”

He made a face. “Honestly? No. I think I ought to leave Allie to her own devices until she cools down and remembers that as compensation for not dancing with me, she gets to be Clara.” He grimaced. “Not to mention the fact that Clara has that lovely pas de deux with the prince.” There was an odd bitterness in his voice as he said it.

“And…who’s the prince?” Danni asked, intrigued in spite of herself.

“Nicholas, of course!” Josh looked at her as though she had two heads. “Katarina’s partner? And she’s having a fit about him practicing with Allie, let me tell you. But since she’s Sugar Plum, she can hardly complain much.”

The Sugar Plum Fairy. For a moment, Danni couldn’t even speak as a wave of longing washed over her. That was her dream role—the one she had always wanted.

She’d danced in half a dozen different ballets, not to mention countless recitals. She’d done Christmas performances every year with her ballet school; and she had danced in The Nutcracker with the local company since she was nine years old. She had never, however, been able to dance the part of the Sugar Plum Fairy. That was always reserved for the company’s prima ballerina—and she hadn’t been old enough to audition for the company.

She had years ahead of her in which she could dance that role—she knew that. She hadn’t really worried about it, most of the time. God would give her the role when and if He was ready—and if He never was, then so be it. But if she could have that dream here….

“Josh…does the Academy do The Nutcracker every year?” she asked, almost breathless.

He nodded, confused. “Yeah. It’s in all the paperwork—didn’t you read it?”

She’d read a lot of paperwork for a lot of ballet schools. The truth was, she had forgotten what each of them said. The Nutcracker. Oh, she’d known that was what they were doing; but somehow, she had assumed that the company associated with the school would be dancing the main roles.

Except that they weren’t. Katarina—who was just her age—was dancing the role of the Sugar Plum Fairy. That meant that next year, it could be her!

Danni had first known that she wanted to be a ballerina when she was five years old and saw The Nutcracker with her mother for the first time. Since then, she had been a mouse; a solider; a snowflake; one of the Arab dancers; one of Mother Ginger’s children; and a flower. The Nutcracker was, corny or not, her favorite ballet.

And she was desperate to be the Sugar Plum Fairy. It would be an absolute dream come true.

Next year, she promised herself fiercely. Next year.

She was full of excitement and bubbling over when she talked to Michael that night, though she tried to keep it under wraps. His knee was still bothering him—she could hear it in his voice. He wasn’t going to dance class that night—and for Michael, that meant that it was bad.

“Are you taking care of yourself?” she demanded. “I mean really taking care of it, Michael.”

“I’m really taking care of it, Dragonfly,” he promised her tiredly. “I just twisted it better than I thought, that’s all.”

She wasn’t comforted. “But you’d tell me if it was really bad, right? I mean, you’re not stuck on crutches or anything.”

He was silent for just a beat too long.

“Michael!”

“I’m good!” He sighed. “I let the doc take a look at it today, and he said crutches for a week would make me completely functional by next Monday. Who am I to argue with him?”

Dr. O’Fallon had been their physician for years. Danni had trusted him with far more serious injuries than just a twisted knee—and most importantly, Dr. O-Fallon understood how important ballet was to both her and Michael. When he treated them, he did it with an eye to what they were really going to need in the long run, not just what would work for the moment.

Tonight, that wasn’t comforting. “I wish I could be there with you,” she told him—not the first time, she knew, and the words were useless anyway. How much could they possibly mean when there was nothing she could do to get back to him?

If only she had her car, Danni would make the drive down the following weekend. She’d go home late Friday night, after the kids’ class, stay Saturday night, and come back to the Academy after church on Sunday. It was possible to do it. If her dad could make the round trip in a day, she could do it over the weekend, and have time to spend with Michael and her parents besides. She could do it.

Which was probably one of the reasons she didn’t have her car.

Michael was trying to juggle both his crutches and the cell phone. Danni could hear it, and it broke her heart. If she’d just been there, she could have helped him carry things for a few days; but no, instead, she was an additional burden. “I’m okay, Dragonfly,” he promised her again. “Just sore, that’s all. Ice every couple of hours and I’m even really good. Just….” He hesitated. “Want to keep talking to me for about fifteen minutes?”

Which was how long he’d have ice on his knee. Danni positively ached in sympathy.

She had a hundred other things she ought to be doing. If she was going to keep getting ahead in her classes, she had to keep pushing herself—there was no other way to do it.

She didn’t even hesitate. “I’ve got all night if you need me.”

Michael was as good as his word, though. They stayed on the phone for fifteen minutes, took another five to say goodbye, and then he hung up. He, too, had homework that he needed to get to, and while he would’ve gladly put it off, he was trying to stay on top of things. The fewer classes he had his senior year, the more likely they were to be able to dance their hearts out.

Danni called him every night that week—and when she got into an altercation with Katarina on Wednesday, she didn’t bother to tell him about it. Michael had enough to deal with. She wasn’t about to add to the burden he was carrying, not even a little bit.

It was her job to make sure that he was all right.

Their conversation dropped off somewhat near the middle of the next week. The two of them had always shared everything with each other; but with Danni determinedly not telling Michael that Katarina was going out of her way to make her life miserable and Michael doing his best not to whine and worry Danni, the conversation tended to dwindle in a hurry. Several nights in a row, Danni ended up putting her phone on speakerphone and quietly doing her homework while Michael did his. They talked from time to time—dry comments about whatever they were reading, especially when it happened to coincide—but it was mostly just companionable silence.

She missed him. He missed her. And at that moment, it seemed as though the miles separating them were insurmountable.