The Dancer

Her graceful moves were heartwarming

Seen from anybody’s eyes.

She twirled all ‘round the dance floor

But it was no surprise.

With every eye only on her

She knew it was her time.

The music began to pick up

It rang just like a chime.

 So beautiful with every step

Some tears would come to eyes.

Her ballet dancing was the best

Despite all of the lies.

 As she spun the tempo increased

Along with the crowd’s awe.

Poised and perfect she danced

As if it was just a law.

 Her moves showed all of the truth

Dancing was in her heart.

As if that was the only proof

She danced like it was art.

 Her elegant ways she showed off

Her lovely style was there.

And as she took her final steps

There was no silence to spare.


Lyra leaned back on the dance bar, cracking her back several times. She sighed loudly and let down her long curly auburn hair, running her hands through it. She was stalling and she knew it. Slowly, she pulled her hair back into a delicate bun and then reached down to adjust her pale pink tights and black leotard. Then, she leaned back yet again, stretching her body out.

“Are you ready Miss Lovelace?”

Lyra rolled her ever-changing blue green eyes and shook her head. “I’ve been hurting,” she replied softly to the dance director, Nancy.

Nancy let out a loud breath and shook her head, reluctantly saying, “Why don’t you take a break then? This is a big performance and you’ve got to be at your best.”

Lyra nodded, hiding her smile before grabbing her sequined bag off the floor and gliding out. Glide, yes, not walk because in truth, she did glide. Her slender body was graceful, the perfect dancer’s shape. And that was why she had been dancing since the age of three. But right now, in her second year of full-time college classes while also performing at Nancy Dance Academy, dance was beginning to be more of a hassle than a passion.

She pushed these thoughts away though, knowing she wouldn’t be returning for her afternoon private session with Nancy. But it was okay, because Nancy knew it too. Lyra was by far the best dancer in the entire academy and that was why it didn’t matter if she skipped sessions. She was skilled far beyond the other girls and could also easily pick up anything new within an hour or two. So it didn’t matter at all whether she came back or not.

She didn’t feel like changing out of her dance clothes so just pulled a sweater over her leotard, slipped on some comfortable black flats and headed out the double front doors. The Florida air was hot, like always, but comfortable. Clouds dotted the cerulean sky and Lyra smiled. Outside of the dance studio, today was a good day. She strolled down the sidewalk casually, debating how she planned to spend the rest of the day. Wednesday’s were always lax for her, but every other day had a tight set schedule. Monday and Tuesday morning ballet practice, afternoon classes and then evening practice. Wednesday she managed to have no classes and only practice but then the week would go downhill. Thursday’s were filled with morning and afternoon classes and then a short 5:00pm review practice and Friday’s she had one afternoon class with dance scattered throughout the day. So yeah, she enjoyed Wednesday’s.

She debated just going back to her dorm to sleep, but she knew her roommate, Caroline would be there still since it was only around 1 in the afternoon. Caroline didn’t have Wednesday classes until 3. She sighed out loud, knowing where she really wanted to go but unsure if he wanted her there. Thinking things through in her head, she reached Hayward Hall; not bothering to pull out her key since someone was always going in or out the front doors. Hayward was by far the busiest dorm building but also the best.

Sure enough, two guys were coming out the door and they held it open for her as she smiled thanks. Lyra headed toward the elevator, still unsure of what she was going to do. In the end, like she knew she would, she found herself hitting button 5 instead of 2. The doors opened slowly to the all boys’ level and she walked a ways down the hall toward door number 57. She knocked and David opened it for her, a grin on his face.

“Hey there, Lyra,” he said, letting her in quickly.

“Hi, is uh he here?” David nodded, sitting back down on the couch in the living room. Their apartment was always messy, but the same set-up as everyone else’s: a shared living room, small kitchen with table and chairs, and two separate dorm rooms. Lyra said thanks, knocking lightly on Mason’s room before walking in.

“Oh hey,” he said, mock surprise clear in his voice as he got up quickly to hug her. He kissed her cheek and took her hand, leading her to his bed where he had been laying on. She curled up next to him and he wrapped his arms around her. “Skipping practice again, are we?”

The End

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