Dancing to Your Heart

In my memories life was never hard. My mother says there was a time before my memory where we were alone and life was hard, but I try to stay away from those memories. It's easier to remember the good times I've had with my family. I've always wanted siblings, but never got them. My parents were too busy to have kids, and I was a mistake on their part. They never mean to have me; it just sort of happened. In many ways I'm a lot like my father, and in other ways I'm like my mom. I love to dance like my mother; I can dance for hours and never grow tired. My father likes to call me an energizer bunny when it comes to dancing. At the same time I love to act and be dramatic with my father. We're so awful that my mother calls us both her, 'little drama queens.' I'm different from both of my parents in one way however. Neither of them can sing, but I love to sing with all of my heart.

I was lying on my bed, still in my pajamas, when my mother barged into my room with an energy bar in one hand and her keys in the other. She rolled her eyes when she saw me lying in bed.

"Darling it's already eleven 'oclock and you're not even out of bed."

I looked up from the song I was working on. It was almost done; all it needed were a few finishing touches.

"It’s not like I have anything to do, mama. I'm already done with my 'junior year of high school' in homeschooling, and Laura says that I have to be at least sixteen to start my 'senior year.'"

"I know that you're done with that already, you finished that in September, honey. Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to come to the dance studio with me, but you're not even dressed so maybe I should leave." She turned to leave, enticing me to go with her, and I shot up from bed.

"Wait, mama!" She never took me to her work dance studio where she taught all of the up-and-coming stars of Hollywood. "When you say 'dance studio' does that mean your work dance studio?" I asked cautiously.

She turned around with a smile on her face, knowing she had gotten me to get out of bed.

"Yes, it does. I figured you were old enough to start getting to know the other young celebrities and not stay stuck up here all of the time." She looked at her watch and then back at me. I was standing at the foot of my bed, my hand on the post that held up the canopy on my bed, still in my pajamas. "If you want to come, you should hurry up. I start rehearsal with Selena in thirty minutes, and the drive there is at least twenty." Then she walked out of the room, leaving me to change into suitable clothes.

I walked quickly to my closet, pausing by the mirror on my shelf to look at my appearance. I didn't look to awful, so all I really needed to do was put on some mascara and lipgloss. I opened the closet door and walked into my closet, looking at the rows and stacks of clothes in front of me. What I was wearing had to be casual, but at the same time I had to be able to demonstrate dance moves in it in case my mother decided to let me help her. I had never helped her teach a student before, and I really hoped that she would let me help her this time. It was only the fifth time she had taken me to the studio in the five years she had bought it, so going itself was a privilege. I couldn't wait.

I finally decided on a pair of white tie-dye legging, a baggy over the shoulder pink shirt that said "Yes Please!" on it, and white ballet flats. The shirt was two sizes to big for me, so it was perfect if I needed to move my arms, and the leggings were nice and stretchy for leg movement. I pulled on the clothes, put on my make-up, and then sat down in front of the mirror to pin up my hair. The clock said that it had only been three minutes since my mom had walked out, so I still had seven minutes left to fix my hair. I was doing this in record time! I grabbed some bobby pins and decided to go for the messy look with my bangs. I put my hair up in a messy bun and pinned up my side bangs, leaving the bangs in the front to hang down. It was perfect, and if need be I would bring more pins to pin up my hair later, if my mother allowed me to dance. Grabbing a purse I shoved in my phone, my iPod, some make-up, a jacket if we went anywhere after, and some pins for my hair. I looked in the mirror once more, and finding my appearance satisfactory, I ran down the stairs and into the kitchen where I knew my mother would be waiting.

She sat the bar counter, just like I thought she would be, and was drinking a cup of black coffee. Both of my parents hated anything in their coffee, and they drank they're coffee black no matter what. She turned when she saw me and smiled at my outfit.

"You look nice, sweetheart." She sipped her coffee. "I left one of daddy's muffins for you. He said he loves you and to have a good day."

I smiled; my dad's muffins were the best in the world. "Thanks, mom. By the way, you look nice, too."

She was wearing a loose white sequined over the shoulder shirt with black leggings and white ballet flats. He hair was tightly pinned to her head, because she had to demonstrate a lot for her pupils and she didn't want it in her face. I was more of a wavy haired dirty blonde naturally with light blue eyes, but my mother had straight strawberry blonde hair and green eyes. My father called her his little, 'Anne of Green Gables,' and that's why my name was Anna. My mother was naturally very slender, and even in the pictures where she was pregnant with me, she didn't ever look fat. She was perfect in every way, and every male celebrity I ever saw gawked at her as she walked by. I don't see how my father ever left her. I also don't her and my father ever made me. I didn't look like either of them, and I actually thought I was quite ugly. I guess that comes with having a beautiful mother and a 'studly' father.

I grabbed the muffin and a napkin and stood waiting for my mother to finish her coffee.

"Can you hurry up, mama?" I really wanted to get to the dance studio. I hadn't been there in almost a year, and I wanted to know if it had changed or not. I also wanted to know who this Selena girl was, and if she was any good at dancing.

My mother raised her glass to her lips and took one long last sip. Then she walked over to the sink and placed her mug in it carefully.

"We can go now." She grabbed the keys and the energy bar off of the counter where she had left them, and popped some minty gum in her mouth to hide the scent of coffee. "Want some gum?"

"No thank you, I haven't finished my muffin yet. Maybe after?"

"Sure."

We hopped into her new car, a silver Porsche, and turned on the radio. Blasting out of the speakers was a whiny girl's voice singing some technically altered song.

"Ugh! What is that?" I said covering my ears and changing the channel to classical music. Once I heard the piano I sighed in content. I looked over to see my mother looking at me strangely. "What?"

"That was Selena."