Devotion

Sometimes late at night I would put one on and wear it around my room all alone after I knew she was asleep. Sometimes I even pretended I was a princess waiting for my prince to come save me. It’s silly and childish, but I couldn’t stop myself from having some kind of fantasy about a life away from here.

I turn when I hear footsteps and see my mom standing there. I think I’ll miss the dresses more than her. That thought saddens me. It shouldn’t, but it does. I know my mother is mean, but on some level I think she has to love me. Maybe even miss me a little? Or maybe that’s just another one of my childish thoughts, and wishful thinking. There is a cold distance that has grown between us the older I have gotten, and sometimes I wonder if it’s because every year that I age is one less year I’m able to dance. And that’s the only thing keeping us together.

“Pull that hair up,” she says with an annoyed sigh.

Doing as she says, I reach for the hair tie on my wrist, pulling my hair up into a ponytail. I don’t know why she doesn’t like my hair. She even made a request to the production company that my hair be pulled up in the last show, but they refused, and Mom didn’t fight them. She never fights them. She’ll put on the fake smile and agree they are right.

When I hear the buzzer, I know my ride is here to take me to the airport. Disappointment hits me that my own mom can’t even be bothered to take me herself. I won’t see her for over a year. I don’t know why I still long for her attention, her kindness and care. I should know by now she’s not going to give it to me. Yet I still I take a step toward her to give her a hug goodbye.

“Don’t fuck this up.” Her hard words stop me in my tracks. “I want to see some improvement when you return, and get rid of that childish attitude. Grow up, Aurora.”

“Grow up?” My voice is almost a shriek, and I can hear my own pain.

I feel like I’ve been a grown-up my entire life. I was never allowed to do what the other kids did in school. I missed everything. School dances, football games, boyfriends, everything other than dance. I was always practicing, never getting to do anything else. Most of the time I feel old beyond my years.

“Yes! Grow up!” she snaps. “I have to keep a lock on the refrigerator because you have no self-control. No discipline.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know where I went wrong with you.”

I drop my head, looking down at my simple white flats.

“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to go? With my luck they’ll change their minds.”

At her words I pick up my bag and turn, keeping my head down. Shame coats my cheeks as I fight the tears that want to break free. I pull open the heavy iron front door and walk out, not looking back at her. I’m sure she’s already gone, but seeing it would just be the final blow.

I walk out, then pause when I finally look up and see a black limo sitting in our circle driveway. A woman stands next to the open door, waiting for me to get in. I’m surprised they sent a limo for me. A feeling of excitement sparks within me, and I push away some of the lingering sadness. She’s on older woman, and I can see the gray hair around her face where it’s pulled back into a braid. She gives me a big sweet smile, and her whole face lights up at the sight of me. I like her immediately.

“Miss Adams,” she greets me, taking the bag from my hand and placing it into the trunk. “You’re even more beautiful in person.”

Maybe the place I’m going will be better than I imagined. At this point it already is, and I’ve only met the person taking me to the airport.

“Thank you. That’s really sweet of you to say,” I tell her as I slip in the back.

It’s still dark outside, and the interior of the limo is even darker. The woman closes my door, and my eyes adjust after a second.

A scream bubbles up in my throat, and I jump when I see a man in a suit sitting on the bench seat beside me. My hand flies to my chest, and I can feel my heartbeat trying to break through.

“Sorry, you scared me,” I say, still holding my hand to my chest and trying to shake off the fright.

He stares at me.

His dark hair and suit help him blend into the shadows of the car, and that’s probably why I didn’t see him at first. I glance up at his eyes, and they are just as dark as the rest of him. Everything about him is dark. Black stubble lines his jaw, and thick hair falls around his face. Sitting beside him, I can tell he’s easily twice my size, and all of him creates a presence unlike anything I’ve ever felt.