Free Dancergirl by Carol M. Tanzman

professional dancer, right, like the girls we saw when we visited New York?”
    “I’m planning to try!”
    Mom smiles. “We’re looking at Juilliard later in the year. And some other conservatories on the East Coast.”
    “Juilliard! Mija, that’s wonderful,” Tía Teresa croons.
    “I haven’t gotten in yet.”
    “You will. I know it,” Maya says. “And when you’re famous, we’ll watch you dance on the stage all the time. Right, Mom?”
    “Right.” Tía Teresa grabs my mother’s arm. “But now, Marguerite and I will show you ladies how it’s done.”
    The two of them salsa like pros. I sit on the arm of the couch. Mom’s having a ball. She and Teresa dance until they’re out of breath. Their hands wave like fans across their faces as they head off to the kitchen for a drink.
    Maya tugs my arm. “I’m thirsty, too. Can you get me something?”
    I rifle her hair. “Lazybones. It’s lucky I like you.”
    My cousin laughs. She loves when I visit because she knows I’ll do anything she wants. When I get to the kitchen, Mom and Tía Teresa are sitting at the table, heads together like they must have done a million times when they were kids.
    “One more year and you’re free,” Teresa says.
    Mom laughs. “I don’t look at it like that.”
    “Why not? You’ll be able to stop worrying all the time and salsa the night away. Find yourself a good man.”
    Immediately, I back off. As I reenter, I call out, “Tía Teresa, Maya wants something to drink.”
    The two sisters look up. I smile brightly, pretending I haven’t just heard how I’ve messed up my mother’s life.

18
chapter eighteen
    As soon as we unlock the apartment door late Sunday afternoon, I reach for my cell to call Jacy. Old habits really are hard to break.
    “Just got in. Want to come for dinner? Mom bought steamed crabs.”
    “Mmm. Be up in about an hour.”
    “Cool!”
    I’m sitting at my desk when Jacy sails into the room. “Whatcha doing?”
    I blow hair out of my eyes. “Trying to find the derivative of a polynomial.”
    “Why? Did you lose it?”
    “Ha-ha.” I close the book. “How was your weekend?”
    “Boring.” His nose wrinkles. “When did you start getting high in here?”
    “Are you crazy?” Quickly, I close the door. “Mom would have my head.”
    He settles at the foot of my bed, his back to the wall. “Right. You burn incense because you like the way it smells.”
    “Incense?”
    “You don’t smell that?” he asks. “Did you go to the woods with your cousin?”
    “I didn’t go hiking and Mom just did the laundry. Are you saying I stink?”
    His cheeks color. “No. It’s just— Never mind. How was the weekend?”
    “Fine. Except for the fact that I’ve wrecked my mother’s life.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “Tía Teresa thinks once I’m off to college, Mom can, as you always say, ‘seize the moment.’ You know, find a man.”
    “That’s ridiculous. Your mother’s dated plenty. Andrew and that guy before him—what was his name?”
    “Osvaldo.”
    “See? You’re not in her way.”
    “Except for the fact that Osvaldo broke up with her.”
    “So? She’s the one who dumped that creep Andrew. My point being that you have nothing to do with her obviously complicated love life.”
    Ugh. I don’t exactly want to think about my mother’s love life. “And before that conversation, I ran into some girl in the crab restaurant who recognized me. She said some pretty mean stuff.”
    “People are always jealous of somebody else’s fame, Ali.”
    “Clarissa tried to tell me half the people at school want to be me, and the other half wish they had something they care about so much. She neglected to mention the half that thinks I’m a bitch.”
    Jacy laughs. “No wonder you barely pass math. That’s three halves.”
    I punch his arm. “Let’s not talk about this anymore. You never told me about your Voice internship. Is it awesome?”
    He picks up one of my stuffed