Music Boxes by Tonja Drecker
Darting back to Madame Destinée, she struggled to pull off her scarf.
“Is there a problem, darling?”
“Nope.” She tossed the scarf to the side and jerked off her boots, letting them plop to the floor with a pair of thuds. Then, she went back out to the floor. One minute. That’s all she needed. She’d dance, and Mom would never know.
Letting the music take over, her feet moved as light as fluttering butterfly wings. Allegro. On the far end of the studio, she balanced up on one leg to extend into an arabesque. Except her jeans refused to stretch. Fighting back frustration, she went from 2nd position into 5th and révèle for what would hopefully be a pirouette. As she swung around, the girl in red soared right at her. Lindsey stumbled backward to avoid a collision and plopped down onto her backside with a loud thump.
The whole floor vibrated. Everyone stopped and stared. Lindsey glanced over at her boots and scarf, wanting to crawl under them, hide, and pretend she wasn’t there.
Madame Destinée cleared her throat. “Darling, I’m afraid this won’t do.”
Heat burned Lindsey’s face as she pulled herself up from the floor. Ugh. It wasn’t even her fault. But by the looks on everyone’s faces, nobody cared. She should have never agreed to come inside. She did not belong there.
“Come back tomorrow, and we’ll try again.” With a flick of the wrist, Madame Destinée shooed the dancers back into motion. But the girl in red stood there a second longer with her lips curled into a vicious grin.