Last Wishes

by Victoria Schwab

  Mikayla took a deep breath and started the turn again. She focused, agonized over every motion, so intent that she didn’t even feel the dancing, didn’t hear the music, only the marks she was supposed to hit. By the time Mikayla came to a stop, she felt strangely hollow and sad, but she’d made it through without another mistake.

  “That’s more like it,” said Miss Annette. “Ten minute break!” she called out to the rest of the room, clapping her hands.

  Mikayla escaped before Miss Annette could decide to make her stay and go again.

  Aria’s class was also on their break and Mikayla saw Aria in the common hallway, putting on her sneakers. She and Aria hadn’t interacted much at school that day, but Mikayla had been pleasantly surprised when Aria had again walked along with her and Sara over to Filigree. Something about Aria’s presence made Mikayla feel lighter. Even scowling Sara didn’t seem quite so bad when Aria was around.

  “Come on,” Aria said now, hopping to her feet.

  “Where are we going?” asked Mikayla, wiping the sweat off her brow.

  Aria nodded at the window, toward the small park behind Filigree’s building. “Outside.”

  Mikayla shook her head. “We only have ten minutes.” During the class breaks, the girls would stretch in the common hallway, or use the restroom, or work on nailing their turns. True, there was no explicit rule that they couldn’t step into the park….

  Aria smiled. “You can do a lot in ten minutes,” she said. “And it’s gorgeous out, not cold at all. Didn’t you notice on the way here?” Mikayla hadn’t. “Besides,” added Aria, “you look like you could use some fresh air.”

  Mikayla suddenly realized that fresh air was exactly what she needed. A few moments of freedom from Filigree. So she ducked into the changing room and slipped on her own shoes, adding her jacket as well. When the other girls stretching in the hall noticed that Aria and Mikayla were heading out, they glanced over with something like envy.

  “Everyone here looks like they could use a little air,” Aria observed, glancing around. “And maybe a little fun. When’s the last time you had some?”

  Mikayla rolled her eyes, even though the truth was, she couldn’t remember.

  Clearly intrigued, a few of the other girls took Aria up on her offer. Donning shoes and jackets, they trailed outside. Even Sara, who looked skeptical, came along. Aria led the way, and Mikayla walked beside her, feeling at once guilty and excited to be stepping out of the building for a bit.

  The park was a small stretch of green fenced off and dotted with trees. Mikayla looked up at the streaks of cloud and the bright blue sky. It really was a pretty afternoon. She wondered how Beth and Katie were spending it, if Alex was out on his bike. She wondered how she’d spend the afternoon, if she weren’t here. Which was a stupid thing to wonder, so she forced herself to stop.

  The girls gathered in a loose circle, eyeing Aria uncertainly.

  “Well?” asked one of the dancers from Mikayla’s class, Elin.

  “What are we doing out here?” asked another advanced dancer named Nissa.

  Aria tapped her shoe and chewed her lip. “Why don’t we play a game?” she offered.

  Sara groaned. “Games are for little kids,” she complained, just as Nissa asked, “What kind of game?”

  At that, Aria smiled, reached out, and touched Sara’s shoulder.

  “Tag,” she said. “You’re it.”

  At first, nobody moved. Mikalya wanted to say that they needed to conserve their energy for class, that she was still sweaty from her turns. The other girls seemed to feel the same way, standing and waiting for someone to do something.

  And then, it just kind of happened.

  Sara took a single step forward, and on instinct, everyone else jumped back.

  She took another step, and everyone took off running, including Mikayla.

  It felt nice to run, to move her body without worrying about tempo and getting the steps right. The girls ran in every direction, and in seconds the park was filled with the sounds of laughter. Sara went after Nissa. Mikayla’s heart raced as she ducked behind a tree. Aria lunged behind the one beside her.

  Sara skimmed Nissa’s arm, and they reversed direction, Sara fleeing as Nissa took off after Elin, who then took off after Aria and Mikayla. Aria ran ahead, her red curls flying, but she was tagged next. Aria and Mikayla exchanged a look — Mikayla could feel herself smiling — and then Aria took off after her, and Mikayla ran, the two sprinting across the grass.

  For a few, glorious strides, Mikayla felt happy. Like the weight of the world — her parents, the boxes, school, Miss Annette, the Drexton audition — just fell away and she could breathe.

  She didn’t notice the root sticking out of the grass, not until it caught her shoe and sent her sprawling forward hard. A sharp pain shot up her ankle. She gasped, more from the shock of the fall than the pain. Then she tried to stand, and this time the gasp was a mix of pain and panic, because something was very, very wrong with her foot.

  The girls immediately rushed around her.

  “Mikayla?”

  “Can you stand?”

  “What happened?”

  “Stay still.”

  And then Aria was there, crouching next to her. Her blue eyes were full of regret. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “It wasn’t supposed to go this way. I just wanted to —”

  But she didn’t get a chance to finish. Miss Annette had burst through the back doors and was hurrying across the park. She shoved the girls out of the way.

  “Everyone get back! What are you doing outside during break? What on earth has happened here?”

  “We were just —” started Aria again, but then Miss Annette saw Mikayla on the ground, holding her ankle, and she let out a sound of dismay.

  Miss Annette crouched beside her and prodded Mikayla’s sore ankle. Mikayla bit her lip to keep from crying out.

  Mikayla saw that Aria was still watching her worriedly. It was the strangest thing, but the shadow at Aria’s feet seemed to waver. Mikayla decided she had imagined it, that she was delirious from the pain.

  “Is she okay? Can you help her stand up?” Elin asked worriedly.

  Miss Annette’s face became a rigid mask of concern and anger, but for once she was silent as she scooped Mikayla into her arms, and stormed away.

  Aria saw it all happen a second too late.

  If she had seen it just in time, her shadow might have come to life and carried her over to catch Mikayla before she fell. But it had all happened too fast, and now Aria sat cross-legged on a very uncomfortable bench in a hospital hall, feeling horrible and helpless and totally responsible. She was just trying to help — she was always trying to help — but she’d somehow made things worse.

  She looked down at her bracelet and wondered if an angel could lose feathers for messing up.

  Mikayla was in with the doctors and Miss Annette, getting her ankle examined. Her mom was on her way. Aria hadn’t been in a hospital since her time with Gabby. Those had been different circumstances, of course, and a different hospital altogether. But the pale halls still felt sadly familiar.

  Aria fiddled with the empty loop on her charm bracelet, feeling like she had her own cloud of smoke hanging around her shoulders. It wasn’t that Aria thought a game of tag would suddenly solve all of Mikayla’s problems. But she hoped it would get Mikayla out of her head and show her that not everything was win or lose. Some things were just for fun. It certainly couldn’t hurt.

  Only, it had.

  Miss Annette stomped out of Mikayla’s exam room, flustered, and turned her attention on Aria. She didn’t ask what Aria was doing there, or even how she’d gotten there. (Miss Annette had driven Mikayla to the hospital herself.) Instead, she knelt down and glowered in Aria’s face.

  “What were you thinking?” she growled.

  “We were just playing a game,” said Aria. “I didn’t think —”

  “No, you didn’t think. You just gambled with my best dancer. She
could have broken her ankle! And with Drexton coming up.” Miss Annette shook her head, as if she couldn’t bear to think about it. “As it is, she’ll be off for days. DAYS.”

  Aria was glad to hear that Mikayla’s ankle wasn’t broken, and thought days didn’t seem like long at all, especially if it meant she’d be okay. But Miss Annette acted like it was the end of the world. “I’ve changed my mind about you,” the teacher went on ferociously. “You’re no longer welcome at Filigree.”

  Aria’s heart sank. “But I —”

  Before Aria could say anything else, Miss Annette straightened up and stormed off down the hall, muttering to herself, “I don’t have time for this….”

  Aria watched, glad when she was gone.

  Then she stood and glared down at her shadow. “You could have helped me,” she said, even though she knew it wasn’t the shadow’s fault. Or maybe it was. But for all her talk about fate, she had a hard time believing this was how things were supposed to happen.

  Aria sighed and knocked on Mikayla’s door. A moment later she heard a quiet voice say, “Come in.”

  Mikayla looked up from where she lay on the exam table. She’d obviously been expecting a doctor and was surprised to see an Aria instead. Surprised, but not angry.

  “Aria,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was worried,” answered Aria. “The game was my idea, and I had no idea this would happen. I’m so sorry….”

  “Don’t be,” said Mikayla, shaking her head. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have done anything to stop it.”

  Could I? Aria wondered, sinking into a nearby chair. I’m your guardian angel. Somehow the fact that Mikayla didn’t seem mad at her made Aria feel even worse.

  Mikayla’s ankle was wrapped and propped up on several pillows.

  “How bad is it?” Aria asked, wishing not for the first time that she was a different kind of angel, one who could actually fix broken things.

  “It’s just twisted,” said Mikayla.

  “That must be a relief,” said Aria.

  “Yeah,” mumbled Mikayla. But Aria was surprised to see a shadow cross the girl’s face, and her blue smoke darken and coil around her.

  “I’m sorry,” said Aria, feeling like if she said it any more times, it would start to lose its meaning.

  Mikayla sank back against the exam table. “The doctor said I’m supposed to stay off of it,” she said. “Just for a few days. So no dancing.” She tipped her head back. Her smoke swirled. “Do you really believe that everything happens for a reason?”

  Aria hesitated, then found herself nodding. “Why?”

  “It’s just … I don’t know … lately I’ve been wondering what my life would be like if I weren’t spending every single moment dancing. And then …” she gestured to her ankle. “This happened.”

  Aria looked down at her shadow, thinking. She did believe things happened for a reason. Or at least, that everything had the potential to matter. Now she wondered if somehow this, the fall, the twisted ankle, was supposed to happen because Mikayla needed a break. A chance to step away from dance. To see that a person was made up of more than one thing. This was her chance. Maybe it would help.

  Or maybe Aria was just trying to make herself feel better.

  “It was fun,” Mikayla spoke up, and Aria looked at her, surprised but glad. “At least for a little while.” Mikayla almost smiled. Aria started to smile, too. Silence fell over them like a blanket. Then Mikayla said, “Can I tell you something?”

  “Of course,” said Aria.

  “You promise not to judge me?”

  “I don’t judge anyone,” said Aria. “I’m just here to help.”

  Mikayla considered her ankle, while Aria considered the girl’s blue smoke. “When I fell,” she said at last, “the first thing I felt, after pain, wasn’t fear or sadness. It was relief. I was relieved at the thought of not having to go back into Filigree. Of having an excuse to not dance.”

  And there it was. The heart of Mikayla’s problem, the reason Aria was there.

  Mikayla looked up, her eyes wide. “Isn’t that awful?”

  “No,” answered Aria. “It’s just honest.”

  Mikayla sighed.

  Aria took a deep breath. “I think that sometimes people have a really hard time being honest with themselves.”

  Mikayla’s stress and conflicting thoughts were all tangled up in her smoke. She had probably been feeling these things for a long time, and simply hadn’t stopped to look at them. Hadn’t wanted to.

  “Sometimes,” Aria went on, “something has to happen to make someone face what’s wrong in their life.”

  “But dance is my life.”

  “Do you love it?” asked Aria.

  Mikayla opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “I … I did.” She put her head in her hands. “I mean I do. I don’t know, Aria.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No it’s not. This is my life. It’s who I am.”

  Aria wanted to say that people were more than what they did, but then the door burst open and Mikayla’s mom was there, a whirlwind of worry and nervous energy, of oh no and how are you feeling and I came as soon as I heard …

  And Aria knew that this wasn’t the time or the place, so she stepped back, and slipped out the door.

  Mikayla’s mom let her stay home from school the next day.

  It was a Friday, and Mikayla’s first thought was that she couldn’t miss dance, before she remembered that she couldn’t go. It took her by surprise again, the wave of relief that came before the dread.

  The Drexton audition was only a week away, and she knew she needed the practice. But for the next few days, dance was off-limits.

  But without dance, and without school to distract her from its absence, she felt lost.

  What did people actually do with their free time?

  It was a drizzling gray day; her mom had stayed home from work and was bustling around the house — as far as Mikayla could tell, she was putting things in boxes — and her dad was at another interview. Chow was asleep at her feet. Mikayla was propped up on the couch with her ankle wrapped in ice.

  Both Beth and Katie had texted to check on her, and Katie even asked if she should come over after school. But Mikayla had looked around at the moving boxes and said no, she was fine.

  And now, for the first time in forever, she almost felt bored.

  It was such a strange thing, sitting still. She tried to do homework, but her thoughts kept wandering. She flipped through the channels, but nothing held her interest. Finally she put her earbuds in and cranked the music up, even though it made her want to get up and move, and she couldn’t.

  And then — she wasn’t sure how much time had passed, how many songs had gone by — someone tapped her shoulder, and she jumped, sending a tiny wave of pain through her foot. She tugged the earbuds out and twisted to find Aria standing in her living room.

  Chow hadn’t heard her come in either, and now he sprang to his feet, barking. But when Aria reached out and started petting him, he promptly flopped over at her feet. Which was surprising. Chow wasn’t usually that friendly to strangers.

  “Sorry,” said Aria. “Didn’t mean to frighten you. Your mom let me in.”

  “What are you doing here?” asked Mikayla. She checked the clock on the wall. It wasn’t even noon. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

  Aria smiled, and readjusted the backpack on her shoulder. “I thought you could use some company,” she said, adding, “I don’t think they’ll miss me.”

  “Are you going to Filigree later?” asked Mikayla. “Miss Annette has a really strict no-skipping policy.”

  “Yeah, about that …” said Aria slowly, “I kind of had my acceptance revoked.” Mikayla felt her eyes widen. “But it’s okay!” added Aria quickly. “Filigree and I weren’t a good fit.”

  Mikayla stared at the other girl. She couldn’t make sense of Aria Blue. This girl who had just walked into her lif
e and turned it upside down. But she was glad Aria was there.

  “So do you have any siblings?” asked Aria, looking around. “Are they dancers, too?”

  “No,” said Mikayla. “I’m an only child. You?”

  “Same,” said Aria. “It’s just me.”

  Mikayla fell silent a moment, and then she said, “I sometimes wish I had siblings.”

  “For the company?” asked Aria.

  “No,” said Mikayla. “Not really.”

  “Then what?” Aria put a hand on Mikayla’s shoulder, and Mikayla could feel the words about to spill out.

  She looked down. “For the pressure,” she said. “When you’re an only child, all eyes are on you. You’re always the one responsible … Sometimes I think it would be nice if my parents had someone else to focus on. Then I wouldn’t feel like everything was riding on me.” Aria’s hand slipped away, and Mikayla blinked. She hadn’t meant to open up like that, and she shook her head. “I shouldn’t complain,” she scolded herself. “Honestly.”

  “I think it makes sense,” said Aria. And then, to Mikayla’s relief, she changed the subject. “So,” she said cheerfully. “No dance. No school. What will you do with all your time?”

  “I have no idea,” said Mikayla.

  “Sure you do.”

  Mikayla shook her head. “You asked me the other day, what I do when I’m not dancing, and I didn’t answer because I couldn’t think of anything. Because I’m never not dancing.”

  “You’re not dancing right now,” observed Aria casually.

  “Right, and I’m bored stiff,” Mikayla shot back. “I don’t even know what to do.”

  “Cut yourself some slack,” said Aria with a laugh. “I bet it’s hard to think of things to do when you’re confined to a couch.”

  Aria started digging through her backpack. And then she pulled out a notepad and a pen, and perched on the arm of the couch.

  Mikayla shook her head. “It’s more than that,” she said, lowering her voice. “Dance is not just what I do. It’s who I am. So I don’t know how to be me without it.” It scared her to admit that.

  Aria rapped the pen against the pad a few times, thinking. “Okay, so dance is your life,” she said. “It defines you.” Mikayla nodded. “But it’s a thing,” Aria went on. “You’re not a thing, you’re a who. A person. And people are more than one thing. They’re messy, in the best way. They’re made up of everything they’ve done, everyone they’ve been, and everyone they’ll be. Even though you’re an amazing dancer, it’s not all you are.”