Page 60 of Crash into me
I’m working on myself and what brings my life joy.
Miami State penciled me in for a last-minute orientation, but classes were scarce. Which I think was a blessing, since I’m still unsure. The only thing I do know is that I want to dance.
Apart from my friends and going to calculus, I’m running through a few core classes I put off last year. But my class doesn’t start for another thirty minutes.
I bounce over to accounting to see Grace. She’s sitting at her desk, her eyes hovering over paperwork. I pluck the papers from her hands, and when she sees me, she squeals.
She bursts from her seat, throwing her arms around me. “Skyler!”
“I’m back!” I tell her.
She bounces on her heels. “That makes me so happy! What classes are you taking?”
I look over my schedule. “A bunch of basic shit,” I admit with a laugh. “I don’t know what to major in.”
Her eyes roam the paper. “Have you thought of an art degree?”
“Last semester when I dropped accounting, I joined an art class. It was fun, but I don’t want to do art for a career.”
She tilts her head. “What do you want to do, Skyler?”
“Dance,” I reply without fail.
She smiles. “Good thing dancing is an art. I’ll take care of this. You’ll just need to add one extra art class and then next year’s your senior, right?”
“Yup!” What is she getting at?
She tallies off a checklist from her mind. “Yeah, you’ll have all of your core classes and extras done this semester. Did you take any art programs at Crestview?” she wonders.
“Yes, my freshman year I did all of the intros and dived into drama classes. My mom made me go to summer school, so it was an entire year of classes.” My mind travels for a moment, but I shake it off.
“You’re on the perfect track then! Next year, your senior year, you’ll do majority arts and you’ll be good to graduate with a Fine Arts degree!”
“Seriously?” I look skeptical, I know I do. This all sounds too good to be true.
“Maybe your brain was picking the courses for this major all along.” She grins. “Or maybe it’s fate.”
I doubt that; fate doesn’t exist. Choices do. Life is made of little choices that determine our future, not our fate. “Maybe.” I shrug, just happy to be around her again.
“Are you joining the dance team?”
I smile. “I was going to come by this week to see if you had any spots to fill. I miss the girls!”
Her shoulders shake with laughter. “Did you not hear?” She opens her drawer, pulling out a pamphlet. “Miami is offering a dance program.”
“Stop it!” I squeal, taking the brochure. Sure enough, they do. Perfect timing, too. The Frost School of Music Dance Program. They have everything ranging from modern, dance history, to ballet. “Are you teaching it?”
She shakes her head. “I couldn’t do accounting, dance, and keep the studio together.”
“Oh.” I frown. “Will any of the girls be coming?”
“The girls,” she says, lowering her voice. “This is a very expensive school. They wouldn’t be able to afford tuition here. That’s why I teach ballet where I do.” Her studio is located in what my parents consider the bad part of town, where Foster is from.
I was never allowed to go there, but it’s one of my favorite places now.
I couldn’t imagine not being in ballet, and I don’t want to leave the girls. They were there every week to visit me while I was in a coma. “I’ll pass.” I hand her back the pamphlet. “As long as there’s a spot for me at your studio.”
Her eyes light up, and she nods. “There’s always room for you.”