“Why aren’t you here?”
“Why aren’t I where, Aubrey? What are you talking about now?” She let out an exasperated sigh.
“My open audition for Swan Lake. You promised that you and dad were coming.”
“It’s Aubrey, honey!” She yelled to my dad in the background. “Your recital was today?”
“I haven’t been in a recital since I was thirteen.” I gritted my teeth. “This is an audition, a once in a lifetime audition, and you’re supposed to be here.”
“I guess my secretary forgot to tell me about it this morning,” she said. “Have you landed any internships for your major yet?”
“I have two majors.”
“Pre-law, Aubrey.”
“No.” I sighed.
“Well, why not? Do you think one is just going to fall from the sky and land in your lap? Is that it?”
“I had an interview yesterday at Blaine and Associates,” I said, feeling my heart grow heavier by the second, “and I have another one next week at Greenwood, Bach, and Hamilton. I’m also about to audition for the role of a lifetime if you’d like to pretend to give a f**k for five seconds.”
“Excuse me, young lady?”
“You’re not here.” There were tears in my eyes. “You’re not here...Do you know how huge this production is going to be?”
“Are you getting paid? Is the New York Ballet Company running it?”
“That’s not the point. I’ve told you over and over how important this audition is to me. I called and reminded you last night, and it would be really nice if my parents showed up and believed in me for a change.”
“Aubrey...” She sighed. “I do believe in you. I always have, but I’m in the middle of a huge hearing right now and you know that because it’s all over the papers. You also know that becoming a professional ballerina is not a stable career choice, and as much as I would love to leave my high-paying client to watch you tiptoe around on stage—”
“It’s called dancing en pointe.”
“Same thing,” she said. “Regardless, it’s just an audition. I’m sure your father and I won’t be the only parents who couldn’t make it today. Once you graduate from college and get into law school, you’ll see ballet for what it really is—a hobby, and you’ll be grateful that we pushed you into double majoring.”
“Ballet is my dream, mother.”
“It’s a phase, and you’re way past the prime age for becoming a professional last time I checked. Remember how you suddenly up and quit at sixteen? You’ll quit again, and it’ll be for the best. As a matter of fact—”
I hung up.
I didn’t want to listen to another one of her dream-killing speeches, and it angered me that she’d called ballet a “phase” when I’d been dancing since I was six years old. When she and my dad had poured countless dollars into private classes, costumes, and competitions.
The only reason why I’d “quit” at sixteen was because I’d broken my foot and couldn’t audition for any of the dance schools anymore. And the only reason I started to show the faintest interest in law was because I couldn’t do much outside of my rehab sessions except read.
My heart had always belonged in pointe slippers, and that fact would never change.
“Aubrey Everhart?” A man suddenly called my name from the theater door. “Is that you?”
“Yes.”
“You’re next to take the stage. Got about five minutes.”
“Be right there...” I stuffed my bag into a locker. Before I could close it, my phone rang.
Knowing it was my mother calling to offer a half-assed apology, I tried my best not to scream. “Please spare me your apologies.” I immediately picked up. “They don’t mean anything to me anymore.”