She sees far too much for her age. I’m pretty sure my best friend shouldn’t be a nine-year-old, but I have to admit she’s kind of the front runner at the moment.
The other dancers at Elysium are fine. They’re nice and all, but there’s also a distance there. I understand it. It’s always dicey when a new person shows up and there are so many catty people who thrive on putting people down. Knowing who you can trust isn’t easy.
And now there’s Rian.
I show her a longer sequence of steps, and we go through it a few times. Watching her confidence build with each pass has me buzzing. But it’s nothing compared to Rian.
When I add another, she falters and the look on her face is thunderous. She immediately stops and gives a foot stomp which is adorable but has no place here.
“Hey,” my voice is gentle but firm, “frustration is okay and sometimes founded, but you can’t let it rule you.”
“But I just had it and then,” without the words, she flaps her hands slightly before letting them drop with a huff.
“I get it.”
“No,” her voice is petulant, “you’ve been dancing for so long, you don’t get it.”
My bark of laughter startles her. With a shake of my head, I point out, “Every job has new routines, and some people expect you to get it after one run through. The pressure to get it right as fast as possible and to fall in line with everyone else is huge. It can be frustrating and it sometimes feels like it’s impossible,like the steps will never come or feel fluid. Hopefully, you have a moment when it just clicks, but what if it doesn’t happen?”
“Fine,” she whines, her shoulders curling in on herself, “I guess you do know.”
“You know what you need?”
The pout she gives me has me biting my lip, while she shakes her head. I wink before grabbing my phone and finding a song.
Just as it starts to play, I explain, “You need the right music. Come on.”
When we get through both sequences once and then twice, the smile on Rian’s face is so big I’m surprised it fits on her face.
She’s panting as she grabs her water. “That was amazing.” Her arms shoot out and then she wraps them around her body like she’s hugging herself. “This is why I asked Dad for dance classes.”
“You didn’t think he would agree to it?” I know I sound shocked because I am. “He clearly adores you; I could see it immediately. He’d do anything for you.”
Rian nods slowly and agrees, “He would.” With a huff of air she admits, “That was the problem. He would run himself into the ground for me and for the club. I don’t want that and he already does so much for me. I told him I only wanted to dance if he really had time to take me.”
My heart clenches and everything in me wants to reach for her and wrap my arms around her. She looks so sad, but the love for her dad is clear to see. It’s sweet in a way that’s bittersweet.
“You’ve only mentioned your dad,” my voice is soft and uncertain; I probably shouldn’t be asking at all, “but what about your mom?”
Rian’s lips thin as her jaw clenches. My eyes widen and I’m about to ramble something to walk the question back. It’s none of my business anyway.
“She’s not in my life,” Rian’s voice is hollow, like it’s just normal. “Never has been. She thought she could trap Dad by getting pregnant, but it wasn’t going to happen. When things didn’t go as she wanted, she basically handed me over to him.”
“Rian,” I whisper and reach for her, resting my hand on her shoulder.
Her whiskey-colored eyes lift and meet my gaze. “It’s okay.” She pats my hand like she’s giving me comfort. “She used to come around, but since she got married to some rich guy, she leaves us alone for the most part.” I almost giggle when she mumbles, “Hopefully, it’ll last.”
“I’m sorry, Rian. That’s a lot for a girl to deal with,” my voice is soft, but I don’t even try to hide how much respect I have for her.
“I guess,” her mouth twists to the side like she’s thinking about it. “I know who has my back and they don’t hide it. Dad. Mimi and Papa. There’s also Uncle Forest, Aunt Autry, and Aunt Montana.”
My stomach clenches at the mention of Forest and Montana, Everton’s younger twin siblings. They weren’t quite ten years old when I graduated high school. But they were sweet and like siblings to me. I missed them when I left, but I didn’t know how to stay in contact with them.
“Then there are Dad’s brothers,” Rian giggles. “They’re scary uncles, not like Uncle Forest.”
We share a look and then both start giggling. Having met the few men from the club that I have, I already feel bad for any boy who asks Rian out in the future.
Even though I want to ask more questions about her mom, I swallow them down. It’s not my place and I can give her something important to her—dance.