Ballerina girl, you are so lovely...

I looked to my right. My brother, Taylor, was braiding and unbraiding his rat tail, staring out into space. I looked to my left. My other brother, Isaac, was leafing through the program. My guess was that he would have that program memorized, cover to cover, by the end of the day.

I leaned forward. My mother was sitting directly in front of me, next to my dad. "Mom," I whined softly, "I need to stretch my legs. I'm gonna go out in the lobby."

"Okay," she whispered back to me. "Just wait until this number is finished. It's rude to get up and walk around while someone's dancing."

As soon as the music stopped, I stood up. I climbed over Ike, into the aisle, and immediately bolted for the door in the back of the room. I sighed in relief as I stepped out of the room and shut the door behind me. Don't get me wrong. I support Jess's dancing completely. I just can't sit still very long. Never have, and probably never will.

I scanned the group of dancers in the lobby who were stretching and practicing, searching for the current object of my affection. Angie. Just the thought of her set the butterflies in my stomach in motion.

I clearly remember the first time I ever saw Angie. I had gone with Mom to pick up Jess from dance school. I had just got my permit, and wanted practice driving. When I entered the dance studio's lobby, shoes, costumes, and dancers were strewn all over. I roamed around, looking at the pictures on the wall. Then I came to a window, and that's when I saw her.

Her dark hair was pulled back into a slick bun. She wore pink dance shoes, pink tights, and a black thing that looked like a bathing suit - which Jess later informed me is called a leotard. She moved with such grace, like a prima ballerina. She seemed to float across the floor. Watching her was a breath-taking sight.

I remember when the door opened, signaling the end of practice, and everyone filed out of the room. Dance bags slung over their shoulders, Jess and the prima ballerina came out together, deep in discussion. They sat down on the bench, took off their dance shoes, and threw them into their bags. They put on sweatshirts and jeans. But before the prima ballerina put on her sneakers, she put a band-aid on every toe.

The two stood up, and I walked over. "Jess, you ready to go?"

"Yup," she replied.

"Guess you don't need a ride home then, huh?" the girl asked, pulling a set of car keys out of her dance bag.

"Nope. Oh, Angie, I'd like you to meet my brother, Zac. Zac, this is Angie."

"Nice to meet you." I smiled.

"Nice to meet you, too." She returned the smile, brown eyes sparkling. "See you Monday, Jess."

"Later, Angie."

After that meeting, I made a point of picking up Jess from every practice, every rehearsal. Mom thought it was because I wanted more time behind the wheel. What I craved was more time with Angie.

"Figure out the secrets of the world?"

"Huh?" A voice invaded my mind, interrupting my precious memories.

"You looked a little spaced out there."

"Oh, I did. Didn't I? You competing today, Angie?" My heart was pounding so hard, I was sure she could hear it.

"Nope. I'm just here for moral support."

I swallowed hard. In jeans, sneakers, a t-shirt, and a ponytail, she looked incredibly cute. "Me too. Well, I'm here for Jess, that is."

"That's cool that you support your sister. But isn't it a little hard to do that from out here?"

"Uh, well, Jess already performed. And I have trouble sitting for extended periods of time." I flashed her my most dazzling smile.

"Well, then. What do you say we exercise those legs of yours?"

I shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

The two of us headed for the elevator.

The ride in the elevator was too short for my liking. Then again, we only went up one floor. As we got off the elevator I asked, "where are we going?"

"To the restaurant. I'm starving."

We didn't wait long to be seated. Angie ordered a bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a vanilla milkshake. I wasn't that hungry, so I just got fries with gravy and a Pepsi.

"I really should have pasta, but I feel like grease. I'm sick of pasta. I've been eating it all week," Angie told me.

"All week!?!"

"Yeah. We need the carbohydrates to keep our energy levels up. In a pinch, if it's late at night, we'll eat chocolate for an energy boost." She took a sip of her water. "How come you only got fries? Not hungry, or are you watching what you eat?" she teased me, a coy smile on her lips.

"I'm watching what I eat. See, I've got these love handles..." I poked at my sides and flashed her a smile.

Angie snorted with laughter. "If you've got love handles, the last thing you should be eating is fries."

"Yeah, but, you see, I've got this addiction..."

"My addiction is to Taco Bell. When I get out of dancing late, it's the only place that's open. So I always stop there on the way home."

"You eat Taco Bell right before bed?"

"Yeah. Oh, come on. Everyone eats something strange before they go to bed."

"I don't."

"Liar."

"Well, I don't think it's strange..."

Angie smiled. "Uh-huh... I thought so. What exactly IS 'it'?"

"Eggo waffles with peanut butter and jelly."

"Now that's an interesting concoction..."

"My brother, Ike, got me hooked. Only he ate it in the morning."

"He doesn't anymore?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. He moved out."

"Oh." Angie became quiet, watching the ice float in her glass.

Just then, the waitress came and broke the uncomfortable silence. She set the food down and turned to Angie. "You're Angie Williams, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am."

"My niece talks about you all the time. She hopes you win tomorrow. Good luck."

Angie smiled. "Tell her I said thanks."

"Will do." The waitress smiled and walked away.

"So, this competition tomorrow must be a big deal, huh?" I asked.

Angie shrugged. "I try not to think about it. No need to add extra pressure."

"What category are you competing in?"

"Miss Dance of our chapter of DMA. The winner goes to New York City to compete for Miss Dance of America."

I let out a low whistle. "Wow. Pretty impressive. What does DMA stand for, though?"

"Dance Masters of America. But enough of this dance talk! I'm starved!" Angie smiled and picked up her burger. She took a huge bit and ketchup oozed out the sides. I couldn't help but smile.

Angie and I found ourselves back in the lobby where we started our journey. After lunch, we took a tour of the hotel the competition was being held in - all 46 floors.

"This is a pretty big hotel," I commented.

"I'm sure, with all your travelling, you've seen ones that are just as big, if not bigger."

"No... Well... What I meant was..." I took a deep breath and collected my thoughts, determined to get one coherent sentence out of my mouth. "Wouldn't it make more sense to have a dance competition in a theatre?"

"Yes and no. I'd MUCH rather be on stage than on that ballroom floor. Thing is, this is a state-wide competition. Dancers come from all over. So they hold the competitions in these huge hotels so the dancers can spend the week here, and don't have to travel as much in areas they're not familiar with."

"How long have you been doing this?" I asked, sitting down on the unoccupied piano bench.

Angie sat down next to me. Her nearness consumed me, and I had to remind myself to concentrate on her words. "Well, I've been taking lessons since I was four, and I started competing when I was seven."

"How'd you get started?"

"Just like you. Family. Actually, it was my neighbor. She started taking lessons when she was three. I don't know why... I think her mother forced her into it. Anyway, I thought it was so cool, so I BEGGED my mom to sign me up. My neighbor, she quit when she was nine. Moved shortly after that, too... But I fell in love with dance, and the rest, as they say, is history."

"Can't see yourself doing anything else, huh?"

Angie gave me a soft smile. "Guess if anyone would understand, it would be you..." It felt like the small space between us was magnetic; something was pulling me towards her. "Play something for me," she said softly.

"Huh?" I wasn't quite sure I heard her right.

"Play something for me."

Nope, my ears are working. "Uh, sure," I said without much confidence. "It's been awhile, though. 'Fraid I'm a little rusty."

"Don't worry about it. Just warm up. You'll be fine," Angie said, taking off sneakers.

"What are you doing?"

She giggled. "Don't worry about me. Warm up."

I played a couple of scales, reacquainting myself with the ivories. "What do you want me to play?" I asked.

"Basically anything, as long as it's slow."

"How's this?" I let my fingers roam over the keys, and a familiar tune Mom had taught me flowed from the piano, filling the lobby.

Angie smiled. "Ah... my favorite... 'The Nutcracker'."

"Yeah. I forgot the name of the individual piece, though." My eyes remained focused on my fingers.

"Hmm... I don't remember it, either. But I know marzipan danced to it."

"Marzipan?" I stopped playing and looked up at her. What the hell was she talking about?

"Second Act... Land of the Sweets... Different treats dance for the Prince and Clara. This is the song marzipan dances to."

"Oh."

"Well, are you gonna play, or what?" Angie smiled.

I returned the smile and began to play. Angie began to dance, and I watched her out of the corner of my eye. She floated over the carpeted floor, my prima ballerina. When I finished the song, Angie sat down next to me on the bench. No words were spoken. She was breathing heavily - a result of her workout, most likely - as was I - a result of having her so close.

Some of Angie's hair had fallen out of her ponytail while she was dancing. I brushed a few stray hairs from her face. Our eyes locked, and again, I felt that magnetic pull towards her. This was it. My moment. Time to seize it. Now or never. So I leaned in, and ever-so-gently kissed her full lips.

She returned the kiss, and when we finally pulled apart, I smiled. "You know," I said softly. "Every time I eat a bacon cheeseburger now, I'll think of you."

Angie blushed and smiled.