Page 69 of Part of Forever
“Do it again,” she says, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Catherine,” Dad starts, but she holds up a hand to silence him.
“Do it again,” she repeats. “We’ll do it every day that the doctor says you’re able, so you can still go to Paris.”
“Catherine,” Dad says again, but her eyes still don’t leave mine.
“No,” I say, possibly for the first time ever in response to my mom asking me to dance. I just danced for me, and it felt better than anything. But I’m not going to dance for her, not anymore.
The word takes her by surprise. “What do you mean,no?”
“I mean no,” I say, standing up a little taller and lifting my chin to gaze at her. “I won’t do it again.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not going to Paris.” I lose a little of my edge and my shoulders droop slightly, but I won’t back down. “I have an inoperable tumor growing on my spinal cord. I’m sick.”
“I know that.” Her tone implies I’ve offended her.
“I don’t think I’m going to get better.”
Dad lets out a slow breath, but she ignores him.
“Do it again, Rosie,” she says.
I shake my head. “Paris is all I’ve thought about for years and years. It’s the only thing you’ve ever wanted for me, just because it didn’t work out for you the way you wanted it to.”
“Rosie,” she warns, but I can’t stop now—I have to say what I’m feeling, even though I didn’t know I felt this way until now.
“You pushed me to be the best. I gave up everything to be the best. And for what? To die at eighteen?”
“You’re not going to die,” she says, her voice sharp.
“You don’t know that.” My voice gets a little louder and I shake my head again, throwing my hands up in the air. “I love ballet, I love it. But I let it consume me.”
“And it was worth it—you got into the Paris Ballet Academy,” she says, as if she’s won.
“I lost Tucker because of it,” I say. “And I nearly lost Grace.”
“You lost them because you lied. Plus, you’re better off without that boy.”
“I lied because I thought I had to protect my future, to protect the opportunity to get into Paris! You never said it, but you were the only one who never told me to tell them the truth. Why? Because you knew that if anyone got a whiff of what was going on, my career would be over.”
“You’re being silly, darling,” she says with false brightness. “You lied because you wanted to, not because of me.”
“I did lie”—I clench my fists at my side—“but I did it because I knew what you’d say if I told them. I tried to date Shawn for months when I really wanted to be with Tucker, all because of you and what you’d think.”
“He’s not the kind of boy you want to love,” she says. The stiffness in her voice is back. “He would only have distracted you.”
“Just like Dad distracted you?” I don’t want to hurt him, but I feel him flinch beside me. Mom glares.
“You know I love your father,” she hisses at me like he’s not standing right beside us. “He’s the best part of my life.”
“Then why are you still trying so hard to get me to the Paris Ballet Academy?” I ask, and something in her seems to crack. She takes a step back.
“You have to go.” She’s quieter now. Still angry, but quieter.
“I called them this morning,” I say, surprising them both.
