Ficly

Debbie's School of Dance (Dancing through life #3)

I flipped through the racks of clothes in my closet. Tonight, I had hip-hop. I had dance everynight of the week. I decided on a pink t-shirt with the quote;
“If dance were any easier, it would be called football,” silver spandex, black short shorts that said dancer on the butt, and my blue “Debbies” sweatshirt.
Debbie was my mom, and she was the most amazing dancer in the world. Shes the reason I dance. I want to be just like her when I’m older.
I slipped my feet through my hip hop shoes, the scurried down into the front of the building to meet my driver, James.
“Good day, Miss Martienez.”
I nodded at him. I hated him. He was always flirting with my mom, and lets just said she didn’t object. It annoyed me sooo much.
“To the studio?” He asked.
“Obviously.” I rolled my eyes as I slid into the car.
Ever since my dad died, my mom had never dated, and I didn’t want that to change. I thought we were just fine by oursleves.
“I’ll pick you up later, Katrina.” James called.
I slammed the door in his face.

View this story's 9 comments.