Dancing for the Lord: The Academy (9 page)

BOOK: Dancing for the Lord: The Academy
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“I’m okay, Dragonfly.”  The calm reassurance didn’t settle her nearly as much as she would have liked.  Michael would lie in a heartbeat if he thought it would worry her too much to know the truth.  “Just twisted it enough to be sore for a couple of days.” She could hear the grimace in his next words.  “Wish you were here with me, though.  Mom’s…well, you know how Mom is.”

Yes, Danni knew Michael’s mother all too well.  She didn’t try to be overprotective; but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t.  In spades.

And the last thing Michael needed right then was someone hovering over him, especially since he was embarrassed about how the injury had occurred in the first place.

“You make sure you take care of yourself, okay?” she told him fiercely.  “No going back out there until you’re ready.”

“I won’t.”  He sighed; she pictured him resting his head back against the arm of the couch, closing his eyes to hide the fact that he was flinching when he moved.  “Don’t worry too much, okay?  I’ll be healed up just fine in a day or two.”

“A day or two.  Right.”  She didn’t believe him.  Michael was always overly optimistic when it came to his own recovery time—especially when he was trying to convince one of the ladies in his life that he was all right. 

“Okay, fine, I’m out of class for a week, best I can do.  Does that make you feel better?”  He snapped the words, regretted them in the next heartbeat.  “I’m sorry, Danni.” 

“Nah, don’t be sorry.  If you can’t snap and snarl at me, who are you going to snap and snarl at?”

“Drew,” he said immediately.  “You know—the person who really deserves it.”  A hint of mirth infused his voice, though Danni had the feeling that it was forced.  “And hey, guess what?”

“What?”

“He’s going to get a week out of school for it—the gym teacher knows he did it on purpose.”

Danni was silent for several seconds, and then she said, “You shouldn’t be so pleased about that, Michael.  How long have we prayed to turn him into a friend?”

Michael sighed.  “Honestly?  I’m not.”  He shifted; she could hear the faint groan that he tried to conceal from her.  “I forget sometimes that you’re not like most girls.  They would’ve taken the glee for what it was and left me alone after that.”

“I’ll never be most girls.”  She had never wanted to be.

“Wouldn’t have you any other way.”  He let the silence drag on between them for a moment, but finally, he knew that he had to let her go.  “Go get some work done, Dragonfly.”

“I’ll pray for swift healing,” she promised him. 

She could hear his smile.  “Then I know it will come.”

“Call me if you need me?”  That she couldn’t be there in person was bad enough.  If Michael believed even for a minute that he couldn’t call her, it would absolutely break Danni’s heart. 

“As if I’d dare do anything else.”

Danni hung up the phone; but she knew even as she did that she wasn’t going to get any work done. 
Michael.
  His injury had washed away all the pleasure she’d felt at her new class.  He would have kept it from her rather than have it that way; but she couldn’t help worrying about him. 

Lord, let him be telling me the truth,
she prayed desperately. 
Let it be just a little thing—something that will have him back on his feet in a couple of days.
  It wouldn’t be the first time Michael had been hurt; and his knees gave him problems anyway.  For that reason, Danni had always been very careful what she choreographed for him, making sure that there weren’t too many fast turns that would put undue pressure on him.  For the most part, he did all right; but she’d seen him hurt any number of times, and after a major performance, it wasn’t uncommon for him to retreat to the car with an ice pack.  Both of their dance bags even had cold packs tucked inside them for just such an eventuality, and she always carried an extra ice pack with her when she knew she and Michael were going to be dancing away from their usual, familiar locations.

All of those already
had
ice packs.

Danni paced the floor of her room for a little while, praying fervently for healing and peace for her friend.  After awhile, some of the desperation faded.  She slowed, letting herself take a deep breath again. 

Michael will be fine.  He’s dealt with stuff like this before.  His knees are bad; but he’ll be okay.
  She wasn’t particularly comforted by her own reminder.  Michael’s knees were bad anyway.  That meant that he would be all too likely to force himself back up on his feet even before he felt ready, pushing himself through the motions of the dance in spite of the fact that every step hurt. 

He’d be wearing wraps under his jeans most of the winter—and under his dance pants, too, if he could get away with it.  Except…what if his new partner was less understanding?  What if she griped about him getting reliant on them, or about the fact that a knee wrap ruined the line of his outfit?  Oh, Michael wouldn’t wear them for a performance—Danni had even tried convincing him to do so on at least one occasion and failed miserably—but some girls were worried about the aesthetics even during practice.

And no one else would bully him the way she did.  She always made sure that he got his leg propped up when he was hurting; and if he was having a really bad day, she made him take a break whether he thought he needed one or not.  That was part of being partners—but she had noticed that some girls didn’t understand that.  If Josh had been her partner, for example, she wouldn’t have hesitated to work the dance with him until he got it, not unless there was some reason she couldn’t. 

Lord…let there be someone to take care of him.  Don’t leave Michael on his own—or if
Y
ou do, don’t let him do something stupid.

At long last, peace truly settled over her, and she stopped pacing.  God had Michael in His hands.  She had done all she could do.  Now, she had to take care of herself.

Danni bent back over her books, determined to get a little bit more work in before she turned in for the night.  She had talked to Michael for a long time again—well, that was the way it was supposed to be, especially when he needed her.  She could take the time for a friend.  It was just that now, she had to make that time up.

She had a goal, and she was going to stick to it, one way or the other.

Chapter Five

Danni spent all day Saturday locked in her room with her books in front of her, ignoring as many requests for her company as it was considered polite to ignore…and maybe a few that weren’t.  Madalyn decided that she was completely crazy—and told her so.  The other girls, thankfully, didn’t really care what she did, so for the most part, they left her alone.

Danni remained engrossed in her schoolwork.  She was determined; and by the end of the day, she had completed a couple of chapters in each of her textbooks.

She was ready.  She was prepared.  She could handle this new schedule.

At least, she hoped she could.  She knew that she couldn’t actually spend every Saturday locked in her room; but she didn’t want to get trapped in the habit of spending the day playing, either.  She didn’t have to worry about rehearsals yet—no one had even officially cast her in a role for
The Nutcracker
, and anyway, rehearsals for that mostly took place in their dance classes, since it was a school-wide production. 

Sunday morning, she woke at her usual early hour.  This week, she was going to church if she had to walk into town and explore on her own.

She tried to be quiet as she got ready.  Madalyn wouldn’t be up for hours yet, at least as far as she knew; the last thing Danni wanted to do was wake her new friend, especially since she knew Madalyn wouldn’t understand the need she had to go to church.

The house was quiet—eerily so.  Since she was up at around the same time as the rest of the students and tended to retreat to her room earlier, Danni had never seen the house so quiet before.  She crept down the stairs, carefully avoiding the creaky step
in the center.  She didn’t want to wake anyone.  She just hoped that Mrs. Baxter was up, and would be able to tell her where to find a church. 

Thankfully, Mrs. Baxter was in the kitchen making breakfast when Danni came down—not nearly her usual spread, but enough, Danni thought, to feed two or three, with some leftovers tucked in the refrigerator. She raised an eyebrow.  “Sundays are for sleeping in around here, huh?”

“What?  Oh, yes.”  Mrs. Baxter turned, startled.  “Yes, the girls work so hard all week, by the time Sunday rolls around, they can’t tear their heads from their pillows.”  There was nothing the least bit rude about her words; but Danni could hear the faint note of disapproval there nonetheless. 

“It’s kind of sad,” she offered quietly.

“Yes.”  Mrs. Baxter bent over to pull a tray of muffins from the oven with a sigh.  “Yes, it is.  I take it you don’t agree with their philosophy?”

“Not in the least,” Danni admitted.  “Actually, I was wondering if you could tell me where to find a church around here.”

“A church?  Well—I’ll tell you what.”  Mrs. Baxter transferred the muffins from the tin to a plate with a rapid skill that spoke of long practice.  “Why don’t you come in with me and Ken, my husband?  We attend Mount Tabor in town.  If it’s not to your liking, I’ll show you some of the others—but if you come with us, you’ll always have a ride.”

Which was, Danni knew, important.  She had a car at home, and her parents would probably bring it up for her when they visited; but for the trip up, they’d wanted her to ride along with someone, and her mother hadn’t wanted to make the drive on that particular day. 

“That would be nice,” she agreed. 

It was wonderful to be back in church.  She had forgotten how much she missed it after missing even a week.  Luckily, the Baxters sat in the back, because Danni couldn’t help herself:  when the music started, she had to dance, at least a little bit. 

Mrs. Baxter smiled slightly, watching her.  “You dance for God, don’t you, honey?” she leaned over to ask as they all resumed their seats.

Danni nodded, feeling as though she was glowing.  “It’s the only reason to dance.”

“Well.”  Mrs. Baxter patted her hand, her smile warming more than Danni had ever seen.  “It’s nice to have someone to share the faith with, don’t you think?”

Danni agreed fervently.  There was nothing like worshipping along with another believer—someone who understood.

She missed Michael fiercely that morning.  For the last several years, every time she had come to church, he had been right there in the pew beside her.  The two of them always moved instinctively to the music; and most of the time, they moved with one another, too, cueing off of one another’s body language with no more effort than if the steps had been choreographed ahead of time.  Several times, they had been asked to dance in church, and they had agreed without even needing to discuss it.

She didn’t call Michael after church on Sunday in spite of the fact that she desperately wanted to.  He would have been through the same aching loneliness the Sunday before, probably experienced it today, as well.  No—worse.  Michael wouldn’t have been able to dance, wouldn’t have felt that indefinable connection to the Lord that passed between them only when they gave themselves over to the music.

Danni was haunted by the thought of him sitting there, his foot propped up on the seat in front of him.  If she’d been there, she would have turned it around backwards; he probably just propped it on the rail at the back of it and let it go.  Or…he hadn’t told her how severe the injury was, really.  If he had resorted to crutches….

She reached for the phone several times, wanting to check on him; but in the end, she didn’t.  Michael would call her if he needed her; and he didn’t need to deal with the fact that she needed him right then.  Besides, she had other things to focus on. 

Danni worked on her schoolwork for a couple of hours Sunday morning; but enforced stillness just didn’t do it for her.  Eventually, she had to move, at least for a little while; so she closed her books and headed over to the main building.  There were practice rooms open; and she was determined to find a place to dance.

When Danni got to the main building, all of the rooms were empty.  She chose one at random.  There was probably a schedule somewhere; but the rooms were much the same as one another.  There wasn’t any reason she could think of why it would really matter, as long as everyone who had signed up for a room got one; and since there wasn’t anyone in sight, she didn’t think it would be a problem on this particular afternoon.

Most of the time, Danni danced to classical music.  It was the way she had been trained; and it was easier to find her own pattern in a song that had no words.  Going to church with Mrs. Baxter, however, had put her in a praise and worship mood; so after she finished warming up, she slipped in one of her praise and worship CDs, moved to the middle of the floor, and simply gave herself over to the music for awhile.

Her heart was pounding.  Some of the songs on the CD were not the quiet, gentle songs that she had intended to dance to.  Some of them gave her a real workout; and Danni was grateful that she had slipped on a pair of the black ballet slippers rather than her pointe shoes for this particular exercise.  She could have kept up with it; but her training kicked in, and she naturally shifted to a little bit of jazz dance.

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