Page 27 of The Way We Dance

"I don't want to come here anymore, Miss Metro. I want to try playing football like the other guys."

At the mention of football, I cringed a little. I thought about Tyson Black and how he was made for such a physical sport. I am sure when he was Sam's age, he was twice his size. Sam had height but one wrong move and his legs would snap like a twig. Sam's legs were built for flying, jeté-ing his way to a stage. But how did I tell him that? I didn't want to break his spirit no matter how much I thought football was the wrong choice.

"What does your mom say?"

"She said I had to finish this month because it was paid for by a scholarship, but I don't want you to make me a place in the show and then I leave."

"Sam, you are the best dancer I have. I want you on the center of that stage in December being everything you can be. I know being different is hard, but it makes us strong. You can be stronger than those bullies by not letting them win."

Tears started running down Sam's face and I instinctually went back to hugging him. I was rocking him back and forth like a baby, wondering if it was doing the opposite of making him strong, and still not being able to stop.

Once I felt Sam was ok, I backed away and looked into his eyes. "I will let this conversation end for the night. I have a month to remind you why you should be here and I plan on doing just that."

Sam nodded with a sad smile, unconvinced by my words. We both started to stand and I looked down to brush off my knees—even though the floor was spotless. I had barely looked up when I heard Sam gasp and squeal.

"That's Tyson Black!" Sam yelled. I looked through the window to see Ty leaning on the wall behind Sam's mom, his arms and legs crossed, watching me.

I had been so absorbed with Sam that I almost forgot Ty was coming. I looked to the clock and realized it was 9:05 and Ty had probably been there for five minutes watching me have an almost-meltdown with Sam. What was more concerning than that, though, was the fact that Sam had just proclaimed his desire to want to play football and here Ty was in all his football glory. All it was going to take was one encouraging word from Ty and I would lose Sam.

Was it wrong to hope Ty recognized Sam's dancer legs and suggest Sam stayed away from football? Was I being selfish? Was I overreacting because of my own experiences?

All I really knew was that Sam was running toward the door and Ty was about to be bombarded by one excited little boy. I hoped that no matter what he said to him, that he was good to Sam. I was about to find out a lot about Ty Black.

As Sam ran from the door, Ty stood straight and let his arms hang. A smile pasted across his face and he held a hand up for Sam to give him a high-five. Sam didn't miss a beat and he jumped up to reach Ty's hand. I couldn't hear what they were saying, and I didn't think I wanted to, but I inched closer to the door anyway.

"You are my favorite player ever," Sam was saying to Ty, who was casually leaning on the chair in front of him, making his arms flex.

"Thanks, man," Ty said. "Hoping we have a good season this year."

"Me too, but you are going to have to catch the ball," Sam suggested, like a child with no filter would.

I couldn't help but laugh and my unladylike snort caught Ty's attention. He looked up and locked eyes with me, his arms still holding this weight on the back of the chair and Sam still talking about football. I bit my bottom lip and tried to hide my smile, but seeing big bad Ty talking to little Sam was doing something to me.

"You a dancer?" Ty asked and I straightened my back. I knew from listening to Sam go on about Ty and the Jets that Sam really did love football, so I was worried where this was going to go. Not to mention, Ty was anti-ballet when it came to being a man. He was probably one of those bullies in middle school that picked on the smaller kids that liked things he couldn't understand.

"Um," Sam was debating on how to answer Ty. He was clearly torn between saying yes in front of me and playing it cool in front of Ty. His dance gear gave him away, though, and he realized it before he answered. "Yeah, kinda. Thinking about quitting for football."

I couldn't help the sadness that came over my face at his words. I looked to Sam's mom who had the same sadness in her eyes as she watched her son chat with Ty. It was like a sign, Sam meeting Ty on the same day he debated leaving dance for football. I was going to lose my star student, my favorite little guy, my talented friend.

Ty was looking at me as he stood straight up and patted Sam's head. "As long as you do whatever makes you happy, little man. It is important to follow your dreams."

"I am going to do a few more classes with Miss Metro and decide," Sam added.

"Dude, sounds good. Maybe I will see you here again then."

"Wait, what are you doing here?" Sam asked.

Ty's eyes got wide and I could tell he wanted to lie through his teeth. His face turned a little shade of pink and his jaw started ticking.

"I’m a friend of Giselle's," he finally said, motioning to me.

"Miss Metro?" Sam asked, probably never knowing my first name.

"Yep," Ty started nodding. "Gonna get a workout in with her before I head back to the training complex."

"Oh my God, I hope I get to see you again, then!" Sam was jumping as his mom was telling him to calm down. She was asking Ty for a picture of him and Sam, and trying to get her other son to join. She called him Reggie and he barely even moved the whole time, clearly not caring about Ty’s presence. Or anything, for that matter.

Other than Reggie being withdrawn, it was a happy moment for a little boy like Sam on a day that was filled with such distress for his young heart. That thought alone gave me a reason to smile and be thankful for Ty.

---