Butterfly (Orphans 1)

Then she looked at me.

"And you're my hope," she said. "I will always love you."

Knowing that Celine's eyes were always following me and that I was her hope made me try harder, but it also made me feel worse if I didn't please Madame Malisorf or Make progress as fast as I was expected to make it. The day after my uncle Daniel's explosive introduction, Celine had a doctor's appointment that ran late and kept her from attending my dance lesson after school. Without her sitting there in the corner, I felt a little more at ease, and even Dimitri seemed friendlier. Toward the end of the lesson, Madame Malisorf declared that tomorrow she would start me on pointe.

"I don't understand why she's doing that," Dimitri declared after she had left for her next lesson. He was old enough to drive and had his own car. "She's the most demanding dance instructor in the area and doesn't easily put a student on pointe. Certainly never this early." He thought a moment. "She's probably just satisfying your mother. Your feet aren't even properly developed."

"They are too," I said looking down at them to see if he was right.

He wiped his face with the towel and stared at me. "I've always liked to watch young girls develop," he said suddenly.

The way he was gazing at me made me very self- conscious. My leotards were as tight as his, and for the first time I was embarrassed by how much they revealed.

"Are you developing breasts or is that just some baby fat?" he asked, jabbing his finger toward me.

My breath caught in my throat and I jumped away from his reach.

"You know, I've heard there's an avant-garde group of dancers who dance naked. Wanna try it?" he asked. After what he'd just done, I had no idea if he was kidding me or not.

"Naked?" I co

uldn't imagine such a thing.

"It's supposed to give you more freedom of expression. I really might try it one of these days," he said. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"You didn't answer my question, breasts or baby fat?"

"That's very personal," I mumbled.

"You shouldn't be ashamed of your body," he continued.

"I'm not ashamed."

"Do I look like I'm ashamed of mine? Am I hiding anything from you? That's right, look at me," he said, turning so he faced me fully. He smiled. "I remember how you looked at me that first day."

I started to shake my head.

"Don't deny it. Honesty is the most important characteristic for a dancer. Your honesty will be evident when you move. Madame Malisorf always says that Breasts or baby fat?" he pursued. He stepped closer to me.

He smiled, his upper lip curling in to his now familiar sneer.

"I could make you look very bad here, you know. Madame will take you off pointe in seconds. I don't think your mother would appreciate that, do you?"

Tears clouded my vision.

"What do you want from me?" I cried.

"Let me decide for myself," he said and reached out to touch my chest. I was too frightened to stop him. "I'm still not sure. I'll tell you when I know," he added. I started to turn away from him, but he seized my leotard at the shoulder and began peeling it off before I could get away.

"Stop," I begged him.

"Ashamed?" He practically growled the word.

"No, but please, don't" I pleaded.

"If you don't let me see, I will ruin your first day on pointe," he threatened.