“Then you dance.”
“And if I mess up?”
“Then you mess up in a dance.”
Frank laughed unexpectedly.
Willa did too.
The sound released something in the room.
Hannah asked Willa if she wanted to learn the changed eight counts or return to the original version.
Willa looked at the girls who had deliberately performed the old steps beside her.
“Can we all do the old one?”
Hannah considered it. “Yes.”
Sophie raised a hand. “I like the old one better.”
Several dancers agreed.
They ran the number again.
This time, nobody stood at the speaker waiting for Willa to fail.
She missed one turn anyway.
The first time it happened, her body froze out of habit.
Hannah kept dancing.
So did everyone else.
Willa found the next count and continued.
Frank had to look down at the paper bag because his eyes filled so quickly he did not want her to see.
At the auditorium that evening, Willa’s mother sat beside him in the third row. She held the forgotten sweater in her lap.
When the silver-costumed dancers came onto the stage, Willa searched the audience automatically.
Frank raised one hand.
He had promised to wave where she could see him.
She saw.
The music started.
During the middle section, every child performed the original eight counts.
Nobody in the audience knew they were watching a decision.
To them it was simply choreography.
To Willa it was the first time the movement belonged to her again.
