Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

She had guided me and offered feedback sporadically since
my father left and I could no longer afford her. Bits here and
there when she was on her way in or after a class had ended.
Or like tonight when she was on her way out.
But this news of GGabriel’s offer was like a slap in the face.
Another reminder that I was destitute and couldn’t have the
things I’d been accustomed to.
Because of them.
Because of him. This was Damon’s idea.
No one else cared if I continued my dancing except him.
He liked it. I was probably the only person who knew that he
loved it, in fact. He’d watched me. I’d danced for him a lot
before.
Fuck him.
I got back into position, lifting my chin, and craning my
neck. “Can you restart the music?” I asked her, ending our
conversation.
After a moment, the music cut off and restarted, and I
began again, letting the volume of the song drown out
everything else. The world swayed around me, and even
though I couldn’t see it, I sensed everything.
The space. The scent of pine needles from last year’s
Christmas tree. The cold bricks around me that I knew were
there. The barre with chalk crusting the wood and the way the
ceiling felt torn away and there were miles of sky above my
head. I could reach and feel endless.
I was flying.
The singer’s voice burrowed into my stomach, and I broke
away from my classical moves and let my hand fall down my
body as I slowed, feeling every inch of my skin come alive.
My feet ached in the pointe shoes, but my body was alive.
I closed my eyes, the strands of my hair spilling around me
and tickling my face. My stomach flipped as I spun, and a
smile twitched at the corners of my lips. GGod, I loved this. I
was free here.