Passion and Pain (Dancers and Divas) (2 page)

Elena glanced up to see her mother leaning against the doorway.

“All ready?”

“
Y
u
p
.”

A warm smile spread across her mother’s weary face.

“You’re going to be fine. You deserve to be there.”

Elena bit her lip and inhaled slowly. Yes, she did deserve it, she kept telling herself.  She
’d
earned that scholarship to Montacrue Performing Arts School. Despite her lack of formal training, they liked her dancing and they wanted her there, right?

Her mom came forward and engulfed Elena in her arms.

“I’m proud of you. Remember that.”

Elena could feel the tears straining against her eyes. It was only the first day of high school. She was not going to cry like a baby.

“I’m fine
,
M
om,” she said pulling away. “It’s just school.”

Her mother gently
brushed
Elena’s dark curls behind her shoulder and gazed at her.

“Good luck. I
’
ll try to be home early tonight so you can tell me all about it.” She kissed her lightly on the forehead and left for her job at the hotel.

Elena glanced at herself in the mirror. Blue jeans, green shirt hanging off the shoulder to reveal a white vest underneath, black sneakers. She adjusted her clothes and prayed everyone else would be wearing jeans
, too
. She tightened the low ponytail holding her hair
back
and gave herself a nod.

“Let’s do this.”

She gathered her
purse
along with her phone, wallet and keys,
shoved
her train ticket in
to her
jean
s
pocket, loaded the backpack onto her back and held the
duffle
bag in the right hand. She felt like a mule
,
but she had to get used to it.

She headed out the door, trying not to knock into furniture on the way
out
. The subway
stop
was only down the
street
and at 6:30am, she was hoping
the ride
from the Bronx to
1
16
th
wouldn’t be too crowded
.

When she reached Sebastien’s brownstone, he was already waiting.
As
a hip hop dancer with no formal training, she wasn’t exactly the typical Montacrue student, but at least she wouldn’t be walking into the place alone.

“Ready?” he said.
She looked up at him. Hard to believe he was the same person she used to have to protect from prep school bullies. Broad and muscular, he stood a head above her now, though his grin and his perpetually messy hair were still the
same.

“I hope so.”

“Got enough stuff?” he said holding onto his small backpack.

“I need my dance gear.”

“Here, give me this,” he said taking her
duffle bag.

“You don’t need to do that
,
Seb.”

“Yeah, I’m going to walk to school holding my little backpack while you drag a ton of bags behind me.
Real macho.”

“Thanks.” She was relieved
,
though she knew it was temporary.

Ten minutes later, they reached the gates of the school.

“Wait,” she said
, stopping.
She took a deep breath and looked at the building before her.

“What are you doing?”

“Capturing the moment.”

Seb raised his eyebrows and moved to the side of the entrance, leaning against the gate.

Elena stood and took
in
the foreboding structure before her. It had
seamless,
six
-f
oot stone walls
interrupted
only by three wrought iron gates. The building itself
,
built in the late 1800’s
,
had steeples protruding every few meters along the tile roof. It could have been a monastery. It certainly felt sacred. The Tuscan red stone was exquisite
,
but the best part of all was the real bell
,
which rang to signal the beginning and end of classes. This would be her life for the next four years.

She looked back at Sebastien.

“What?”

“Nothing.
Just watching you capturing the moment.”

“I’m done.”

The bell
rang.
H
undreds of students
began pouring
into the building. She gulped as they continued on through the wrought iron gates, heading for the auditorium.

They followed the crowd into the building and moved down the corridor to the right. Thankfully there were signs everywhere to help them find it. Plus it was hard not to notice the tide of nervous freshmen streaming in the one direction.

When
they entered
the auditorium
, again
she made him
pause
so she could
take it in. Wow. It was something. She had seen it during orientation but stand
ing
inside
the auditorium
now,
thinking about
performing on that stage with all these seats filled with people watching her,
brought to it a
new perspective.

They sat towards the back, with Elena ending up beside a girl who was in an animated discussion with her neighbor.

“My dad says it’s just a matter of time before I
’
ll be getting speaking roles in some of these movies. He’s the producer
,
so he can tell everyone what to do.”

Daughter of a film director.
No wonder she was so confident. There were probably lots of celebrities’ kids here.

The girl turned to look at her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Elena said.

“I’m Francesca Lorenzini. Frankie.”
Frank Lorenzini, of course
.
M
ultiple
A
cademy
A
wards.

“Elena Martinez.”  She offered her hand.

“What are you here for?” Frankie asked. That almost sounded like a prison sentence.

“I’m going to major in dancing and acting.”

Frankie inspected Elena’s clothing
, furrowing her eyebrows.

“No offen
s
e, but you don’t look like a ballerina.”

Elena laughed. “I’m not. I have a hip hop background
,
but I’m hoping to branch into contemporary.”

“Oh
,”
Frankie said.

Elena felt her face burn.

“Who’s your father?”

“I have no idea. I live with my mom.”
Elena
shifted
uncomfortably in her seat. What was she doing here?

“Is she a dancer?”

“No.”

“Oh. Well, never mind. You’re an up and coming,” Frankie said with enthusiasm. Frankie had found a box
in
to
which to
fit her.

“How about you?”
Elena said
.

“Singing, musical theatre, acting.
Too hard to choose.”

“That’s cool, I
—
”

“Sorry, have to say hi to someone. Can you
watch
my Louis
Vuitton
?” Frankie dumped her handbag on Elena’s lap and climbed over Elena’s bags and Sebastien’s legs to reach the aisle.

“How
are
you?” Elena heard her say. She definitely had that star quality. The boys smiled and waved at her as they went past. It probably helped that she made the most of her voluptuous figure, wearing a black fitted dress that barely reached mid-thigh. She flicked her perfectly straight, brown hair repeatedly as she spoke and her laughter was light and infectious.

             
Elena looked down at her jeans and top
.
“Do I look
all right
,
Seb?”

“You look fine to me. Don’t worry about it. No one cares.”

Yeah
,
right.
She
scanned the room
. The other
students w
ere
all dressed in a variety of clothes
,
from dresses to jeans to tights. She didn’t know anyone. But then why would she? When was the assembly going to start?

The principal stood on the stage in front of a lectern, asking for silence. Frankie gave the boy a kiss on the cheek and climbed back into her seat,
seeming
energized. Elena smiled. She definitely
had
a lively personality.

Mrs. Radford began her speech.

“Welcome everyone to Montacrue Performing Arts School, where dreams really do come true. But they don’t come true
through
talent
alone
. They happen with hard work, determination and listening to those who have gone before you.” She paused and pushed her glasses back into place, scanning the room.

“We are the best Performing Arts school in the country for one reason
-
we work you harder. There
will
be sacrifices, sweat and tears
,
and you’re going to want to give up. But that’s the difference between those who make it and those who don’t
.
”
She hit
the lectern for emphasis. Her
f
ace was going red as she increased the volume of her speech. Elena was worried she might have a stroke.

“If you want someone to stroke your ego and tell you how successful you’re going to be, you’re in the wrong place. We will guide you the best we can, but in the end it’s down to you. This school
is
only the beginning of a journey
. If
you put your whole body, heart and soul into
it
, you just might make it. But there are no guarantees, no matter how much talent you have. So make the most of every
day
.
I believe with the right attitude and the right passion
and talent
,
everyone here, has
a chance.” She paused,
looking
exhausted.  “Welcome to Montacrue.”

Elena applauded loudly with the other students. She knew it would be hard, but it was going to be worth it.

The principal continued more calmly, telling them what was expected of them and encouraging the students to make good decisions both at school and in their personal li
ves
. She also introduced the other faculty sitting on the stage. The dance teachers were the
W
ho’s
W
ho of the entertainment industry
-
former dancers from some of the best companies in the world and actors from TV soaps and movies.
Elena was intimidated already. The academic teachers seemed pretty ordinary.

“
There’s your mom
,
Seb. Aren’t you going to wave
?”

“
Shhhh
.
No need to announce it
.
English isn’t exactly people’s priority here.
”

Elena laughed.
“
Can’t get away with anything now
.”

He grumbled
.
The principal finished her speech and Elena began moving out to go to her third period class.

“What’s on?” Sebastien asked.

“English for me.
You?”

“Math
.
See you at lunch?”

“You bet. We’ll swap stories.”

Elena gathered her three bags and went to her locker first to get rid of at least one of them. Naturally, that meant she got lost. North, south, east, west
-
she could never really work it out unless she knew in which direction at least one of them was in.

By the time she found the room, class had already started.
Late day one.
Not good. She opened the door and felt the stares.

“Sorry, I’m late. I got a little lost.” Someone giggled and the two girls in the center row
were whispering to each other while still looking at her.
Real mature.