Gemotions

“You’ve got the grace of a ballerina, Liam,” the dance instructor had said, her voice dripping with insincere enthusiasm. “We think you’d be perfect in the pas de deux.” Perfect? He’d been honing his contemporary technique for years, embracing the raw energy, the aggressive movements. Now, he was expected to partner with Sarah, and twirl?

He went back to the corner to stretch. The mirrors reflected a stranger. He hated the way his body felt, not powerful, but delicate. He wanted to scream.

He clenched his fists, the image of his dance dream, gone.