Page 66 of The Breaking Pointe
When they talk about their dreams, they use me as a model for their expectations. And even though they’re all children, the pressure is on.I’ve never carried a weight as heavy as such.It’s all I’ve been able to think about during class today, and especially now that class is over and I’m not distracted. “Your mom is waiting, honey, so we need to hurry and put yourcoatonsowedon’tleaveherwaiting,”IsayasIhold
up a small, purple jacket.
Alexis,one of my youngest students,is always the lastto leave.Her mom is a single mom, and she insists on working three different jobs, which I unlawfully commend her for, though it leaves little Alexis deprived of important core memories that she could be making with her mom.
Alexis pushes her little arms into each coat hole, bouncing around like she can no longer contain her energy.
“Okay,” I kneel down, meeting her face at her level, “tomorrow, what are we supposed to bring to class?” I ask her, fixing her jacket to be neatly draped on her.
“Coloring book and crayons. So that I have something to do after snack.” She nods once, confident in her words.
“That’s right.” I whimsically smile, examining her joy. “It’saballerinacoloringbook,youknow,”shesays.“My
new daddy got it for me after the wedding.”
Oh, to be a child with no pride or filtered dialect.
My face goes tight, feeling the urge to smile.“I can’t wait to see it.We’re gonna have so much fun,” I assure her, grabbing hersneakers then herfoot, takingher pointe
shoe off.
Her hand falls on my shoulder, holding me for support. “MissElle?”sheasksafterafewsecondsofwatchingme
tie her shoe and move onto the next foot.
“Yeah?”I bat my eyes at her quickly before focusing on her shoes again.
“Do you ever wanna get married? Like my mommy?” she ponders aloud with hesitance.
She must want me to release all of my emotions and tears right here. Of course I do. Aside from ballet, being a mother and a wife are the next things I want, alongside being a teacher, of course.
“I do,” I say, finishing her shoe as I stand up, looking down at her now as if she’s shrunken a few sizes. “But I’m playing princess right now, and it’s a long game,” I say, a bit of laughter following.
“What does that mean?”she asks, tilting her head.
“It just means that I haven’t found my Prince Charming yet, that’s all.” I shrug, placing my hands on my hips.
“But why? You seem like a good enough princess to me,” she insists, as if that statement had surely offended her and went against her beliefs.
“Well, Lexi, sometimes you can be the perfect princess, but there might not be a prince out there who can handle the good princess you really are,” I respond.
How do you tell a child that relationships are bullshit, and men are despicably disgusting?
Watching her mother pull up in her silver SUV, I grab her hand to lead her to the front door.“But, Miss Elle, good princes know how to handle anything.Even when they’re reallyprettyandnice,likeyou.That’swhythey’regood
princes,”sheprattleson.
“You’re not wrong,”I say,squeezing her hand.“Not wrong at all,” I mumble my last sentence as we approach her mother, who is patiently waiting outside of the car now. “Hi, sugar,” she says, picking up Alexis with ease.“Thank you so much, Noelle, you have no idea what it means to me,”
she expresses, looking at me with concern.
“It’s fine.It’s what I’m here for.”I wave a hand, half smiling with my lips tightened together.
“We gotta run, but I’ll see you tomorrow?”she says, putting Alexis into her car seat.
“Of course, tomorrow for sure.Same time as usual.”I wave, looking at both of them. “Bye, Lexi,” I say, watching her mother close the door and run to the driver’s seat.
Strolling back inside the studio, I get right to cleaning up. Lauren was supposed to be meeting me here to go to my meeting with me and possibly give me the boost to speak up, but with her hefty schedule, I’m becoming acclimated to her being booked, busy, and sometimes late. I’m scared to even attend. I can’t say that if I was on the verge of boosting my career somehow, I wouldn’t be doubling down on everything that I could. Every meeting, every overtime hour, and every opportunity would be mine.
