13. The Measure of a Girl. pt 1
Angela moved across the polished studio floor, rolling her shoulders slightly as the last traces of tension left her muscles. She was done for the day so she reached down to grab her things.
There was no time to get caught up over the name that she was still getting used to. After all, hardly anyone called her Angela these days.
She instead offered a polite smile. “Yes?”
The hobby instructor returned the smile apologetically.
“I’m terribly sorry to ask this of you, but our younger class instructor has called in sick today. The kids are already here, and I can’t leave my class unattended.”
She gestured toward the mirrors. “Would you mind staying a little while? Just to keep an eye on them while they practice?”
Angela barely needed to think. There was nothing to rush home for anyway.
“Oh, of course,” she said easily. “I’d be happy to.”
The instructor’s shoulders relaxed immediately. “Thank you so much. I truly appreciate it.”
Angela looked over to the side of the room where the younger students were. A handful of them were scattered across the floor, stretching, practicing turns, or whispering quietly among themselves.
One girl practiced apart from the rest.
She moved with intense concentration, repeating the same movement again and again, her brow furrowed in fierce determination.
At first, Angela admired the focus. But after a few minutes it became apparent that this little girl was pushing herself very hard.
Suddenly, she lost her balance and Angela’s arm reflexively shot out to catch her. The girl grabbed on to steady herself.
“Careful,” Angela said gently.
The girl straightened immediately, brushing off the moment. “Thanks,” she said briskly, already preparing to try again.
Angela tilted her head slightly.
“Would you like to take a break for a moment?”
The girl glanced up at the clock on the wall. She hesitated. Then finally sighed. “Okay. I’m kinda tired anyway.”
They sat cross-legged on the floor.
“You’re very dedicated,” Angela complimented.
Angela studied her a little more closely now.
“That sounds like a lot of pressure.”
The girl leaned back on her hands and sighed.
“I just need to get it right today.”
Angela raised a brow inquisitively.
“If I don’t improve, my mom says I can forget about this whole dance thing.”
Angela didn’t know what to say. Would it be appropriate to pry? After all, it’s not like she was actually their instructor.
She glanced over at the other little girls as they giggled and danced among themselves.
“Well,” Angela said gently, “sometimes getting better starts with resting for a minute.”
The girl looked unconvinced.
Angela smiled warmly. “Really. Your muscles remember more when you give them time to breathe.”
The girl didn’t respond, her gaze having settled intently on the floor. A series of conflicting emotions flickered across her face as she seemingly thought about it. Finally, she exhaled.
She didn’t get up right away. Instead she stayed sitting with Angela, watching the others for a while.
A small, quiet sense of satisfaction settle in Angela’s chest. Perhaps this little girl just needed a reminder that she didn’t have to conquer everything in one afternoon.
Eventually the girl rose to her feet again, stretching her arms above her head before returning to the barre.
This time, her movements were softer and less frantic.
Angela returned to the studio the following week for her usual class.
The room filled gradually with familiar faces, the quiet murmur of greetings and the shuffle of slippers against polished wood.
She moved through the exercises with steady focus, grateful as always for her weekly distraction. By the time class ended, the late afternoon light had shifted across the mirrors.
Angela gathered her things to leave.
As she passed the mirrors, she noticed the younger class had already started. Their instructor was back, guiding the girls through their warm-ups. She slowed down to watch, scanning for a particular face.
There was a light tap on her shoulder, and Angela turned to find the hobby instructor.
“I meant to thank you again for stepping in last week. That really saved us.”
Angela waved it off lightly. “It was no trouble at all. I’m glad the instructor is feeling better.”
“Oh yes, she’s back to normal now.”
Angela nodded, looking around. “There seem to be fewer of children today,” she noted casually. The hobby instructor followed her gaze. “Yes… unfortunately, one of the girls stopped coming.”
Angela’s brow furrowed slightly. “Oh?”
“Amelia, the one you spoke with last week,” the instructor started gently, as though she had already guessed the incoming question.
Angela was confused. “But… she seemed so invested.” She said.
The instructor smiled, tired but kind. “They often are. That doesn’t always mean they get to stay,”
“Sometimes parents reassess. Or the schedule doesn’t work. Sometimes they just decide it’s not worth the stress.”
“Well, thank you again for helping us out,” the instructor said with one last smile before turning and walking away.
Angela watched her go. Slowly, her gaze drifted to the spot where Amelia was practicing last time.
Now, someone else filled that space.
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