Dancing for the Lord: The Academy (2 page)

He had been a wonderful partner.  Danni found her eyes filling with tears—tears that she tried to hide by burying her face a little bit deeper in his shoulder. 

Of course, that didn’t fool Michael.  He had always possessed a nearly uncanny ability to see straight through her no matter how hard she tried to convince him otherwise.  “Hey—what’s wrong, Dragonfly?” he demanded.  “You ought to be overjoyed!  This is what all the planning and hoping has been for, remember?”

“What am I going to do without you, Michael?” she whispered desperately. 

“Hey.”  He folded her into his arms, holding on tight.  There was security there, and peace—two things that Danni suspected were going to be in very short supply in the near future.  “You know what you’re going to do.  You’re going to get there, and you’re going to dance your heart out before your God.  The rest of those people?  They
don’t matter.  What matters is performing for him, and knowing at the end of every day that you’ve done your absolute best.”

Danni blinked, so surprised that she even stopped crying.  Michael had said those words to her before, of course—or at least similar words.  They’d been spoken before every recital, every competition, every show.  Never before, however, had they been spoken with such passion and determination—and never before had they sparked her heart in quite that way. 

Michael smiled, knowing immediately that his words had done what he intended for them to do.  “See?  Just another performance,” he told her quietly.  “And yeah, you’re going solo for a little while—but I’ll be back beside you soon enough.”

She wondered if he could possibly know how much those words meant to her—but of course he knew.  He was
Michael
. 

Danni stared up into his eyes, memorizing their familiar and yet ever-changeable depths.  Blue, yes; but they could go anywhere from blue-green to blue-grey depending on his moods, and she swore that when he lifted his heart to God and danced in a way that was truly for him alone, his eyes shone pure silver. 

They were entirely blue as he stared down at her now, memorizing her features just as desperately as she was memorizing his.  “For what it’s worth, I don’t have any idea how I’m going to manage solo, either,” he admitted quietly.  The look on his face said that he hadn’t meant to tell her that; the warmth in Danni’s heart told her that it was genuine. 

“You’ll manage,” she promised him.  “One way or another, you’ll manage—and besides, you already said it.  We’ll be back together before you even have time to miss
me.”  She forced a smile to her face, realizing that the moment was turning too serious.  It wouldn’t do either of them any good to dwell on goodbye—and besides, there were good things ahead.  They
wanted
this—and more importantly, God wanted it for them.

Danni’s voice turned teasing as she said, “You just make sure you don’t get too out of practice without me here to push you.  I’d hate to have to start over from scratch when you get to the Academy.” 

Michael’s expression didn’t change, still torn between the gentle, familiar banter and the desperate pain at parting.  “And you don’t work too hard, okay?” he demanded roughly.  “I know you—you’ll push until you don’t have anything left if there isn’t someone there to sit on you.”

“I’ll be careful.” Suddenly, Danni meant that promise more than she had in all the years of their partnership.  She would be careful…because Michael wouldn’t be here to watch her back all the time anymore. 

It was a lonely, empty feeling. 

“Danni!”  Her mother’s head poked out the front door.  “Oh—hello, Michael.”  She didn’t look surprised to see him—not any more than Danni really was.  For the last four and a half years, wherever Danni had been, Michael hadn’t been far behind.  “Breakfast is on the table.  Come on inside.”  She tactfully turned away then, easing the door closed behind her.  Mrs. Wilkerson understood that there were things in the world that simply couldn’t be said in front of someone else. 

“I’d better go,” Michael said roughly.  All traces of teasing had disappeared from his face completely. 

“Come in and have breakfast with us,” Danni offered.  It wasn’t like it would be the first time.  Michael frequently came over early, and left late; her mother often joked that it was like having a son around the house.  Since he pitched in freely with the sorts of chores that a son would have managed—taking out the trash, helping with the heavy lifting, even washing the car on a sunny Saturday afternoon if he and Danni didn’t have other plans—no one had ever minded his presence. 

“I can’t.”  Michael swallowed hard; and in his eyes, Danni could see the truth that he couldn’t say aloud.  If he went in there, the odds were good that he was going to end up crying over how much he was going to miss her; and that wouldn’t be appropriate, not as she embarked on her grand adventure. 

He couldn’t stay and give her the hope that she needed.  It would be the first time in their relationship that he hadn’t been able to do that for her. 

Danni nodded, holding out her arms to him.  He enfolded her in his quickly, even lifting her off the ground and simply holding her for several long minutes.  There were no words for this bittersweet parting, and neither of them tried to say any.  They just held one another, and let that be enough. 

Michael didn’t say anything when he finally released her, just squeezed her one last time, stared into her face for an endless moment…and then let her go.  Danni barely had time to see him as he turned to look over his shoulder at her and then, as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone.

Her feet dragged a little bit as she made her way into the house.  Michael, gone…she already missed him.  Never mind that she was the one who had made this decision.  He was supposed to be going with her.  It wasn’t
fair
.

Fair or not, it was what
was
, she reminded herself.  She didn’t have any choice but to live with it, now. 

Mrs. Wilkerson looked up, surprised, as only a single set of footsteps sounded on the kitchen floor—light, airy footsteps.  Even in high heels, Danni rarely made much noise as she walked.  In tennis shoes, as she was now, she barely seemed to make her mark on the ground as she passed by.  “Michael decided not to join us for breakfast?” she asked cautiously.

Danni just nodded, her throat too full to speak.  Her mother had prepared her favorite—waffles, with a side of turkey bacon for protein—but suddenly, she wasn’t sure she would be able to eat a single bite. 

“Such a shame.”  Tears sparkled on the older woman’s lashes before she turned away, hiding them from Danni.  “It feels like I’m losing both of you, even though I know he’s not going anywhere.” 

“You’re not losing me, Mama!”  Danni hurried to her mother’s side, hugging her tightly.  “It’ll be summer before you know it—and I’ll visit, or you can come and visit me.”  But the visits would be few and far between, and they all knew it.  Her father’s job didn’t allow for much travel; and her mother didn’t like to be away from him if it could be helped. 

“Oh, I’ll probably see you all the time.”  Mrs. Wilkerson’s voice was clearer now; she’d managed to set her own emotions aside.  “You just—just eat up now, Danni.  You don’t want your food to get cold, do you?”

“No.”  Danni gave her a grateful smile.  She wasn’t sure she could have handled much more emotion.  Michael missing her was going to be bad enough; she was trying not to think too hard about what this would do to her mother.

At least her little sister, Lizzie, would still be at home—and Lizzie, at least, didn’t have any mixed feelings about the fact that Danni was leaving.

“Aren’t you gone
yet
?” she demanded, sticking her tongue out at her older sister as she scraped her own chair back. 

“Elizabeth!”  Mrs. Wilkerson’s voice was angry. 

“Sorry, Mama.”  But Lizzie stuck her tongue out at her sister again, when she was sure their mother wasn’t looking.

Danni just rolled her eyes and ignored it.  This kind of behavior was normal for Lizzie.  Most of the time, it irritated her more than she could put into words; but as she’d gotten older, she had started to understand it, at least a little.

Danni had gotten their father’s quick metabolism and their mother’s innate grace.  Lizzie had been blessed with neither. And with her practice schedules, rehearsal schedules, and shows, sometimes, it must have seemed as though the entire household revolved around ballet. 

Oh, Lizzie had tried to join in.  When she was seven, she had joined the ballet class at the same school Danni attended, desperate to start learning the grace that her then-twelve-year-old sister had displayed so naturally. 

She had quit within a year, convinced that she would never be able to get anywhere near Danni’s natural grace—and the truth was, Lizzie probably wouldn’t.

Danni was naturally slender, petite.  Lizzie was heavier, and she was going to be tall—she could already see it.  At eleven, Lizzie was already nearing five feet tall, and she still had several years to keep growing.  Danni, on the other hand, had settled at five one and intended to stay there.  Lizzie weighed more than her sister did, too, and that in spite of the fact that she tried to limit what she ate to mostly healthy things. 

Danni had just been blessed—or called, as she had told Lizzie once, during a heart-to-heart shortly before her sister gave up on ballet once and for all.  God wanted her to dance for him, and that was what she intended to do.  He had given her all the tools she needed to get there.

She was also very young to know her calling; and it must have frustrated Lizzie to no end that she had no such talent to be nurtured, no calling that was so obvious. 

“Hey, look at it this way,” Danni suggested to her sister.  “With me gone, you have one fewer person to pester for a ride when you need to go somewhere.  Won’t that be a loss?”

Lizzie rolled her eyes.  “With you gone, Mom might actually have time to take me places,” she shot back.

Danni prayed for patience and did her best not to snap back at her sister.  It wouldn’t get her anywhere, she knew.  Lizzie was deeply resentful of the time and energy that the family poured into developing Danni’s talent.

At least that was one thing that she wouldn’t have to worry about anymore.

Danni lingered over breakfast, taking a long time to eat a very little in the hopes that her mother wouldn’t think that she was unappreciative.  She
did
appreciate
everything that had been done for her, up to and including this breakfast; she just couldn’t bring herself to eat with her usual enthusiasm. 

“It’s a long trip,” her mother reminded her softly.  “And you know your father won’t want to stop.  You’d better eat up.”

Danni did her best to smile.  “I’m trying, Mom,” she said quietly.

“Nervous?”  Her mother’s warm, perceptive brown gaze locked with her own. 

“Terrified,” Danni admitted.  “And…and it’s harder than I thought, leaving everyone behind.” 

“Oh, you won’t even miss us after a week,” her mother told her—though it was clear from her eyes that she hoped that wouldn’t be entirely true.  “You just wait—you’ll be so busy that summer will come, and you won’t even realize that the time has passed.”

In a sense, that was probably true.  Danni had read all the material for the Academy.  Students weren’t accepted until their junior or senior years—not into the Academy itself—and if they were accepted as juniors, then their academic goals became simple:  to finish all of the coursework necessary for them to graduate by the end of the junior year, so that the senior could be devoted entirely to dance.

She was going to be busy—but she thought she would have more than enough time to miss her family. 

It seemed an eternity before her father finally came down for breakfast.  Danni tried to make conversation with her mother; but everything she said just came out sounding like “goodbye,” and this wasn’t, not really.  She would be able to call, to speak
with them often; and she’d write, and email, and all of the things that people did to communicate even when physically, they were far away from one another.

She would do them all, she swore to herself—but it wasn’t going to be easy. 

Finally, her father was there; and though he ate with gusto, he was at least done quickly.  He seemed to realize that Danni was staring at every bite of food put in his mouth, waiting for him to be done.

Either that, or he understood the same urgency.  Now that it was time to go, they were all eager to have the journey done, to start settling into their lives according to the new routine. 

“Well, kiddo,” he asked in his warm, firm voice.  “Everything packed and ready?”

“I think I’ve got it all, Dad,” she agreed.  “And anything I missed, Mom can ship to me, right?” 

“Right,” her mother hastened to put in.  “We’re not so far away as all that, after all.  Maybe we can come up and visit you some weekend.”

“Now, Kerri,” her husband pointed out gently.  “You read all that material just the same as I did.  There are parents’ weekends when we’re allowed to visit, but Danni’s going to be too busy for us to interrupt her for awhile.”

Those words left a sick feeling in the pit of Danni’s stomach.  That was the thing that she liked least about the Academy—the reason she had almost decided not to go.  Parents weren’t welcome except for one weekend every other month.  Oh, they were
allowed
; but the parent materials had made it quite clear that they were to visit only on very rare occasions.  Dancers at the Academy simply didn’t have a lot of extra time.