The Artist and The Dancer

Chapter Fifty-One: Down.

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Chapter Fifty-One: "Down."

I HAVE NEVER SEEN my mom this mad.

I took a deep breath, sitting on our couch and waiting for it to come. No. I didn't even have time to wait. She had been cursing in Spanish the entire ride back home and I felt like I wasn't going to hear the end of it.

For a very very long time, I thought pushing my curly hair out of my eyes.

"I cannot believe you." She finally said in English.

"Mom-"

"How could you?" She stared at me like she didn't know who I was anymore. Like I had committed the biggest crime on earth and she couldn't even look at me.

"What does that mean?" I stood up on my feet, getting angry but at the same time not having the strength to argue with her.

"Do you want to throw your life away for some boy?"

"He's not just some boy." I tried to explain but I could barely get a word in. I felt like she wasn't listening to me at all. Sometimes she never really did. 

"Yes, he is Sydney. To him you are another girl that he probably won't care for."

"He doesn't just care for me mom," I tried to reason. "He loves me."

"He loves you?" She repeated scornfully. "You are young. You don't know what love is."

"Yes I do. I love him."

"No. No you don't."

"Yes I do."

"You don't understand, Sydney," She said to me, spitting the words out. "Boys don't get pregnant. You are a dancer. You have a future. Do you want that to suddenly be ruined just because you allowed a boy in your life?"

"I'm eighteen, mom. Eighteen! Don't you think I should be able to make my own decisions by now?"

But that wasn't going to work. I don't even know why I said that when I knew that age didn't matter in this argument. Not by a long shot.

"You may be eighteen but you're living under my roof. My roof Sydney. You can make your decisions when you leave this house."

"But-"

"I've had enough." She put her hand up and I shut my mouth, taking deep breaths from my nose at the anger building inside me. She put her hand out gesturing for my phone. "Hand it over."

I gave it to her without any resistance but I still tried to reason. "Mom, I really do love him. You can't just stop me from seeing him."

"I understand that you and him go to the same school but if you understand what is good for you, you won't be with him again."

"Mom-"

"Go to your room Sydney."

"You don't get it, do you?" 

"What don't I understand?"

"Lucas. My friends. Think about it. You dragged me to another city hours away from my old friends and I came here thinking I wasn't going to make any. That I was only here to dance and that was it. That dance and Julliard were on my mind."

"Sydney-"

"No. You and dad divorced? Fine. But I made friends. Great ones. Ones you probably don't approve because of what they look on the outside but they're great people on the inside. And Lucas was one of those people and we have something mom. I love him. All those people made me happy when I honestly thought that my family's separation would ruin me. That I can never have a proper family again. They made me happy. Lucas? He makes me happy too. Do you really want to do this?"