A New Friend

Lucia has always danced. Now she has started at new studio with a new girl. What will come out of this experience?

Lucia tapped the thick, clear window of the car. As she looked at the unfamiliar shops and restaurants, a kaleidoscope of colors, all she could think about was the smooth, wooden floor of a dance studio and the shiny mirrors lining the walls which allowed you to see every part of the room. If that's what she was going to see, these little shops with their vibrant colors weren't going to distract her.

"How much longer?"

Her mom who was silent for most of the ride, shifted slightly to look at Lucia. "Due minuti,'" she replied in Italian, turning back to the road. Two minutes. That was how long she had to wait?

Lucia slumped back onto her seat, but continued to stare out the window at the shops. For each shop they drove by, she was one shop closer. Her mom turned left on a small street called Beech Street and the shops quickly turned into duplexes. Unlike their neighbors on the other street, these houses were faint in color, causing them to  look more snug. As she drove by a pale yellow house, she saw a large blowup snowman, rolling around on the front yard. She laughed as a pile of leaves whipped its face and plastered themselves on the figure.

"Mom, somebody put their Christmas decorations early."

"Davvero? Parlarmi in italiano."

Lucia sighed, but translated what she said to italian. "Mamma, qualcuno ha messo le loro decorazioni natalizie in anticipo." She had nothing against the language, but did she really have to speak it every time she wanted a conversation?

"Oh, qui siamo," her mother cried as they pulled up into a small parking lot outside a squat, pentagonal shaped building.  Finally!

"Grazie." Lucia said, while fumbling with the slider to open the car door.

"I'll do it," her mother offered in Italian, pressing a button on the keys. The door unlocked with a loud click and Lucia shoved open the door.

"Grazie!"

She stood outside the car door waiting for her mother to come out. Absentmindedly, she tapped her slippered foot against, the black concrete. There were many smaller cracks running from the larger crack in the middle. Like tributaries coming off of a river. The bumpy road felt good under Lucia's feet, but she longed for the polished, wooden floor waiting inside the studio. Excited, she strided over to the light brown door to wait.

A pink wreath swung slightly from what looked like a black doorhanger. The door hanger itself was shaped like parrot and a curl came out at the end where the wreath was hung.

All the sights just shouted for Lucia to come in. Why was her mom taking so long? She looked around to see her mother rummaging through her purse in the car. With a loud thunk, a small, green object landed on the hood of the car. A crabapple.  Her mother, startled, stood up, hitting her head on the roof.

"Seriamente!" her mother cried, stepping out of the car. "Lucia , andare senza di me."

"Certo," Lucia said, twisting the cool handle of the door, glad her mother was letting her go in. "What about the pass?" she asked, abandoning Italian.

"I'll get it," her mother replied in Italian.

Lucia completed opening the door and stepped onto a warm, rugged floor. The rug had a navy blue background with red, green, and blue stripes tangling around each other. It was smooth and welcoming. The calming features gave Lucia the feeling of belonging.

"Well, hello there," said a voice.

She looked up to see a young woman with a pink pullover, behind a wooden stand. She looked eagerly over her computer  into Lucia's face. Lucia couldn't help but smile back.

"Hello."

The door swung open and her mom stepped into the studio, her hair slightly disheveled.

"Hello," the woman behind the stand said. "You must be the people who recently signed up.'

"Yes, we did just do that," Lucia's mother said. "Here's that pass." She whipped out a crinkled piece of paper from her purse.

"Oh, thank you." The woman entered something on the computer. Silence enveloped the room.

Lucia already liked the studio. It seemed well organized and the staff, at least the employee she met, seemed very pleasant. Even the furniture was comfortable and bright. The plush red loveseat by the window looked cozy along with the two gray chairs on the other side. There were four brown doors, two on each flank of the room.

"So you must be Lucia," the woman said, interrupting her thoughts.

Lucia nodded.

"Have you ever danced before?"

Lucia gave another nod.

The woman beamed at her. "Great! You can help the other girls in the class."

The idea sounded exciting, but at the same time she didn't want to be the center of attention. Her face must have somehow conveyed her thoughts because the woman then said,"don't worry about it. It'll only be showing people how's it done and correcting minor mistakes."

Lucia nodded.

"I think this would be a great thing for her to try," her mother said. She slipped the pass back into her bag. "Lucia doesn't have that many good friends, so this is a great chance for her!"

Lucia shot a glare at her mom. She did have friends. A small group of close friends appealed more to Lucia than hundreds.

"I have plenty," she whispered back to her mother, after the woman returned to her computer.

"Avani and Isabelle are not plenty."

"I don't like the other girls."

"You should at least try to get to know other girls. Even if they don't go to the same school!"

Lucia sighed and threw herself down on the red loveseat. She then saw the window into the other room. The only problem was it was tinted and who could see into that darkness? All she saw was herself, a white haired girl with freckles dotting her cheeks staring back at her. She waved and her reflection waved back.

"Oh that window was put on wrong,"the woman said, looking up from her computer. "The tinted side was supposed to be on the other side, so the people dancing couldn't see out and get distracted, but, of course, it had to be on this side. If there were people inside now, they would see us perfectly."

"Cool," Lucia said. She was glad nobody was inside at the moment. Nobody would see her waving to herself.

The door opened again and another girl walked into the studio. Unlike Lucia, she hadn't changed into her attire before class. She wore a short sleeve gray shirt and orange jeans. She handed a pass to the woman with an outstretched hand and turned to the direction of the door opposite to where she was standing. Then she's strutted forward, her long black hair slithering to the beat of her steps.

The door closed with a slam behind her and the silence once again erupted in the room.

Lucia wondered why the girl had seemed so angry. She completely ignored Lucia and her mother and hadn't even spoken a word to the front desk woman. She pawed the rug distractedly, watching her feet. As she brushed forward, the rug seemed to turn a lighter shade, but when she pawed the other way, it became darker. Soon she found herself focusing more on the rug instead of the girl.

"That's Elise," the woman said, finally breaking the silence. Lucia looked up from the rug.

"She's been a loyal dancer and comes every Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoon."

Lucia almost wanted to ask why the girl seemed so angry, but held her tongue. She probably has a lot of homework or is annoyed at her mother, she told herself, you get like that too.

The door opened and Elise slid out. From her angle, Lucia could see a sink and toilet at the end of the wide room. Elise was now wearing a pink leotard with matching tights. Her black hair was in a tight bun and her brown eyes stared back at Lucia's. Lucia looked away. She sat in a gray plush chair on the other side of the loveseat.

"Bene, ora avete la vostra prima occasione per fare amicizia, io vado al negozio di alimentari," her mother said as she stood up, saying she had to leave to the grocery store. The loveseat raised slightly under Lucia. She watched as her mother swung the door open, wondering if she was going to get her favorite lemon yogurt.

Elise fiddled with two hair bands wrapped around her wrist. One was a bright orange that glowed off her skin. The other was black, only shades darker than her skin. Lucia wondered if she was suppose to say something or ask a question.Before she had the chance, the woman at the front desk spoke. "Well, it's 12;30 now, so how about we go into the studio to begin. I'm Rosalind, by the way."

She stepped out behind the stand and opened the door to her left. "Elise, you can show Lucia how everything is done."

The other girl nodded and stepped into the studio. Her hands still fiddled with the bands. Lucia treaded over to the window and leaned forward to peek into the room. The studio was shaped as a semicircle with the straight sides. Lining the mirrors on the back side of the room were three long barres. The barres weren't splotched with rust, unlike the others at her old dance place. As she stepped into the room, the air felt considerably warmer and a gentle humming could be heard. The ceiling had a massive, square tube, running from either side. On Lucia's left, there was another door and beyond that, props. This place is so magical.

"Don't just stand there," Elise called from the barre on the most right," come practice with me."

Lucia nodded and joined Elise, sliding happily across the shiny, polished floor. Her slippers only stirring a quiet squeaking. Lucia gripped the bar, the cool gray metal, comfortable in her hands. She started with simple movements, first position, then second,  third, fourth, fifth. Elise nodded approvingly, a smile plastered on her face.

"Are you usually the only one?" Lucia asked, stopping her movements.

Elise rolled her eyes. "Half the time. My friend would rather do soccer with Kate and Laura, rather than dancing with me. Every now and then these two boys come. They're nice."

Lucia nodded understandingly. It never had happened with her friends, but the situation certainly happened to other girls in the fourth grade. Not sure how to reply, she tried another movement.

Her right leg demi-plied, while her left displaced the other. Lucia's right leg straightened and her left fell behind her at a 120 degree angle, completing the fondu.

"You know, that was really good," Elise congratulated. She copied the move exactly, her soccer friend seemed forgotten.

Lucia looked at the girl with interest. A girl who just wanted a constant friend to do dance with during the week. Lucia smiled, glad Elise had chosen her. "Thanks."

Author's Note

Tell me what you think. When I wrote this story, I knew nothing of ballet or Italian.

Reviews

[steppenwolf]

Engaging and lively. I love languages so the Italian words and sentences intrigued me. I'm also interested in good details and you've supplied those too. Plus the interplay between mother and daughter about having friends is what the British call "spot on!" My only criticism is the use of the word "strided." I think it should be "strode." Can you turn this into a longer story? It could be really good.

[Chris]

Descriptive, good flow, effective dialogue. The story "worked" and I turned the pages til it was done.

[Bobby Garfield]

"Major editing" is kind of harsh. Maybe you could just leave out the space lines (is that a word, I hope you know what I mean). Apart from that, I really liked it. I'd never thought that I will read a story about dancing but here I am and I like it :). I especially liked the details, for example the rug that changes its colour, I also like those rugs :). The whole setting is really detailed and I like the description of the city. It's subtle and understated, I like that.

[barleygirl]

I disagree. I don't think this story needs major editing. It's nicely detailed, using setting to convey quite a bit about the lives of the characters. Your dialogue is well-done. Using the Italian language just enuf to get a feel for this girl's life, but not so much as to be distracting from the story. I also like that so much of this is understated, showing us tentative steps toward friendship, rather than a dramatic flourish of interacting. Thanks for sharing!