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Chapter 2
“I never knew how much work you do Trish.” I was in awe at how much studying I had accomplished.
“Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” Trish laughed.  “I have piano, fencing, my book club, I’m on the school soccer team, and I’m Junior Editor of the school newspaper.” Trish sighed, and then laughed again.  “And you thought doing some of your homework and ballet was hard!”
“You actually do all of that?! I had no idea you were so busy.  Gosh.”
“You’ve accomplished a lot.  Why don’t you call it quits for tonight.  You did all of your homework, right?  I don’t need to check?”
“I don’t think so, Mommy.  I’ll manage.  I want to squeeze in some ballet before bed.  Don’t tell.”
“I won’t.”  She started to leave.
“Hey Trish!”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
I changed into my ballet gear and did some exercises to keep in shape.  I knew that my instructor would have a fit if I came back and needed lots of work.
Well, I did all of my homework, studied four of my subjects, and I organized my
backpack.  Stop! Don’t think about school!  You’re messing up! Ballet!  Think about ballet!  I thought to myself.  I concentrated on my feet and arms instead of my homework.  I knew already that this studying would be too much pressure.
“I see you did ballet.” My dad said sternly, looking up from his newspaper.
“How could you tell?”
“You’re wearing your leotard.” So I was.  I must have been too tired to change into pajamas last night.
“So?” The hatred that poured from my voice nearly drowned the word.
“You’ve been prohibited from doing ballet.” His tone when saying ballet clearly stated his opinion of dancing, which was not good.
“Mom said I couldn’t go to class, not that I couldn’t do ballet.  Besides, Trish said that I could stop studying for the night.  You’re being kinda mean.”  I instantly regretted those words.  Why did I have to let my mouth get the best of me?  I knew what would happen if I did.
“You will not talk to me like that!” My dad bellowed fiercely, and he slapped as hard as he could across the face.
I just did what I always did when he hit me; I walked out of the room.
“What’s wrong, Lil?” Daisy asked, seeing my tears.
“Dad.” I replied, knowing that she would know exactly what I meant.  She let it happen.  Sometimes, she even contributed.  She always apologized afterward, but that didn’t get rid of the bruises.
“Oh, dear.  You’ve already got the beginnings of a bruise.  I’m afraid you’ll have to stay home today.”
“After all the work I did last night?!” I stayed up late and got along with my sister just to get all that stupid homework done.
I started to cry harder and I ran up to my room.