Hopes and Dreams Read Online Free

Sylvie announced the cast list. Well done on the solo, by the way. I am playing the Mouse King. Lucky me!’
    ‘It’s not a bad part,’ I say.
    ‘It’s OK,’ he says with a Gallic shrug. ‘I guess it proves that I do not get, what do you say –
special treatment
for being Sylvie’s godson, as some of the students may think. She is scrupulously fair and honest, no?’
    ‘Too honest, sometimes,’ I blurt out, suddenly angry. ‘She just told me I am holding something back, not giving enough to my dancing. What more does she want? Blood?’
    The minute I say the words, I wish I could take them back. I don’t even know this boy, yet I’ve shown him how hopeless, how insecure I am. Worse still, I have criticized Sylvie Rochelle – a world-class ballerina, principal of our dance school … and, oh yes … Sebastien’s godmother.
    I wish the ground would open and swallow me up.
    Sebastien laughs. ‘This is what has upset you? Ah, Jodie, Sylvie will push you hard. She sees something in you, something special, and she will not rest until everybody else sees it too!’
    ‘I don’t mean to be negative about your godmother,’ I say. ‘She’s amazing, obviously. An awesome teacher. But to be totally honest, I don’t think she actually sees anything in me. I think she’s sorry she gave me a place here.’
    The French boy frowns. ‘No … I do not think so. My godmother, she does not make mistakes.’
    ‘She made one with me,’ I tell him. ‘I auditioned with a friend from my old dance school, a really gifted dancer. She was given this place, but then she got sick and couldn’t take it. Sylvie Rochelle didn’t choose me, not really; I’m second choice.’
    If there is one way to make an impression on the boy you’ve been crushing on, it’s to spill your guts and show him how needy, how insecure you are. That and the tear-stained face should do it. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I keep my big mouth shut?
    It’s too late, of course; the floodgates have opened, and all my doubts and fears have come tumbling out, stark, ugly, embarrassing.
    Sebastien frowns. ‘You carry this doubt with you all the time?’ he asks. ‘This fear that you are not supposed to be here? Trust me, Jodie, my godmother does not take “second best” dancers; this I can promise you.’
    I pull the jacket a little closer, shivering.
    ‘She didn’t choose me,’ I repeat. ‘I was a last-minute substitute. How do you think that makes me feel?’
    He raises an eyebrow. ‘Not good,’ he guesses. ‘This is how I feel too – I would not be here if Sylvie was not my godmother. I am a good dancer, good enough to make the grade, but Sylvie felt – and I agreed – I might be better studying at home in Paris. There was a dance school specializing in contemporary dance I would have loved to go to. Do you think I wanted to leave my home, my friends, to move to another country? This was not my choice, nor Sylvie’s – it was my mother’s.’
    I look sideways at Sebastien; suddenly he looks less self-assured, less confident. Something vulnerable, uncertain, flickers behind his dark blue eyes.
    ‘How come?’ I ask.
    He shrugs. ‘It suits my mother to get me out of the way for a while. She is divorced, and lately she has been seeing a new man. Having a teenage son around all the time did not suit her, so I am here, out of the way.’
    ‘But … you don’t want to be here?’
    ‘I am not stupid,’ he says. ‘Sylvie is one of the best teachers in Europe. Training with her will open doors for me one day. And Sylvie has a soft heart and believes that a good dancer can become a brilliant dancer if he – or she – is willing to give his heart and soul. I’m here because I am lucky enough to have Sylvie as a godmother, and perhaps I should be ashamed of that, but I am not – just the opposite. I will work and work until I make her proud that she took a chance on me! I will prove that I am worth taking a risk for!’
    I blink. One or