Page 7 of 1 Last Shot

“How are you settling into the apartment?” she asks in a more serious voice. “Have you explored at all? How’s the area?”

I roll my eyes. “The area is fine, Mom. South Philly is a nice part of the city.”

She sighs over the line. “I just worry about you. First time not living under my roof, and you decide to move to an entirely new city.”

“I just needed a change of pace,” I tell her quietly. “I didn’t want to get away fromyou, I just needed… a new environment for a little bit.”

“I know, honey. I understand that.” Her voice takes on a happier pitch. “So is the apartment everything you wanted it to be?”

A proud smile stretches across my face. “Yeah. It’s amazing.”

“Good. I’m glad Freddy found you what you wanted. Lord knows I pay that man enough to get it right.”

And just like that, my smile vanishes, and my moment of pride becomes nonexistent.

I shift the duffel bag on my shoulder, suddenly uncomfortable. The fact that my parents still handle things like this for me is a reminder of the exact reason I moved to Philadelphia in the first place.

Oblivious to my discomfort, my mom asks, "What about the job search? Any idea yet what you might want to do?"

Chewing on my lower lip, I debate telling her the truth. I haven’t made any moves with a job search, but Ihavethought nonstop about what kind of job I might want. I have an idea for one that I’d have a good chance of getting but… I'm hesitant to say that out loud. Not because my mom isn't a supportive parent, but because I'm not ready to admit it to another person, to vocalize my hopes out loud.

"I'm still looking," I say instead.

"What about a teaching job at one of the ballet schools? I'm sure they'd love to have your knowledge at the front of the classroom. You could teach beginners, or even the kids again."

I wince at that thought. I loved teaching back in New York, but the thought of teaching here makes me slightly depressed. I moved away from the city I grew up in because I wanted a different life, something new to spend my days with. Teaching ballet would be an easy job to get and an even easier one to do, but I'm not quite ready to settle yet.

"Although in all honesty, you don't even really need a job. You've got plenty of money from the trust fund to just focus on getting comfortable in the city and enjoying yourself for a little while."

I need out of this conversation. Being reminded of my privilege is one thing, but having it thrown in my face is a whole other. I know my mom doesn't mean anything by it, but even the mention of it is enough to send my hope for this new phase of my life crashing into the ground.

"You've worked so hard your whole life, and you've had such a hard year. You deserve to relax and—”

"Mom, I've got to go. I have a call from the school coming in," I lie in a rush.

"Oh, okay. Good luck then, sweetheart, call me later."

"I will, Mom. I'll call you next week."

I hang up with a heavy exhale. And all the earlier feelings about my overwhelming to-do list come rushing back, this time accompanied by my nerves surrounding going down a very different career path.

I’m lost in my head the entire walk to the dance studio. By the time I reach the building, I think there’s a permanent furrow in my forehead and I’ve chewed my lower lip raw.

I don’t even notice Hailey until she calls my name.

"Hey!" she says, her face lighting up with the greeting. "You're back. Class went okay then?"

I focus my attention back on the present and return the smile as I walk over to her. "Better than okay. Jane is an incredible teacher. I couldn't wait to come back."

"Yeah, that's usually the reaction she gets. I'm glad it worked out for you." She continues to stretch as I set my gym bag down and pull out what I need for class. "So how are you settling into Philly? Was this the first dance school you checked out?"

I nod. "Yeah. Guess I got lucky. I only moved down here a week ago, so I’m still settling in, but my life has revolved around dance for long enough that I can’tnothave a place to dance. I just needed something that wasn’t ballet.”

She nods as I start my own stretches. "Are you doing ballet down here, too? Or did you stop that entirely?"

I glance down at my lap, hoping the turmoil doesn't show on my face.She's just being friendly, I remind myself.

"I didn't stop, I just… changed the direction of my career." I think about adding more, mentally debating if talking tosomeoneabout it would make me feel better, but then I see Hailey's gaze dart down to where I'm subconsciously rubbing my left foot.

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