[Ms. Avery's Classroom - Afternoon]
Ava, Jade, Sienna, Lana, and some other girls were drafted for the school's ballet team. Ava declined. She wasn't a girly girl. But her mother said otherwise. 7Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEAQfp2mSbf
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Ava sat at the kitchen table, her phone in hand but her attention elsewhere. The hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the clock on the wall filled the quiet space. The door to the kitchen creaked open, and Ava’s mom walked in, holding a mug of coffee. Her face was stern, but there was something else in her expression—determination.
Ava’s Mom: (setting the mug down on the counter) We need to talk.
Ava didn’t look up from her phone, pretending to scroll through random posts. She could feel her mom’s eyes on her, but she stayed silent.
Ava’s Mom: (crossing her arms) You’re going to ballet practice tomorrow. Whether you like it or not.
Ava finally put her phone down, glancing at her mom with frustration painted across her face.
Ava: (sighing) Why, mom? I don’t even care about ballet. I don’t want to do this. Why can’t you just let me do what I want?
Ava’s Mom: (sharply) Because it’s not about what you want, Ava. It’s about what you need to do. Ballet is an opportunity. It could really help you in the future. You don’t understand it now, but you will.
Ava’s hands gripped the edge of the table as she tried to hold back the frustration bubbling inside her. She hated being forced into things. She wasn’t a ballerina. She wasn’t the type to smile, pose, and fit in.
Ava: (glaring) I’m not a girly girl, mom. Ballet isn’t me. I don’t even care about this stuff.
Ava’s Mom: (voice hardening) That’s not the point. You don’t get to pick and choose all the time, Ava. Sometimes, you need to do things that will benefit you later. What you need is discipline, something ballet can give you.
Ava wanted to scream, wanted to tell her mom she didn’t care about discipline or whatever “opportunity” she was talking about. But before she could, the sound of the front door creaking open caught their attention. Ava’s dad stepped into the kitchen, grocery bags in hand, his usual relaxed demeanor still intact despite the tension that had been building.
Ava’s Dad: (cheerfully) What’s going on in here? You two look serious.
Ava’s mom turned to him, her eyes flashing with that same determination she had just moments ago.
Ava’s Mom: (pointing at Ava) Tell her, Sam. Tell her she’s going to ballet.
Ava’s dad paused, looking at Ava, then at his wife. He raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. He placed the groceries down on the counter before responding, his voice calm.
Ava’s Dad: (softly) Ballet? I thought Ava wasn’t into that?
Ava’s Mom: (firmly) She’s not, but that’s exactly why she needs to do it. Ballet will teach her things she doesn’t even know she needs to learn.
Ava’s dad seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding. He didn't have the same fierce determination as her mom, but he understood where she was coming from.
Ava sat in silence, feeling the weight of both her parents' expectations. Her dad had a calm, almost gentle way of thinking things through, but her mom’s determination was unyielding. Ava's heart raced with a mixture of frustration and helplessness. She had been pushed around for so long, always expected to conform to someone else’s idea of who she should be.
Ava’s Dad: (gently) I get it, honey. But maybe there’s a middle ground. You don’t have to love ballet, but give it a shot. Who knows? You might surprise yourself.
Ava’s Mom: (cutting in, more insistent) No, Sam. She’s been putting this off for too long. She needs to learn that not everything in life is about her comfort zone. This is for her own good.
Ava’s dad looked at her, his eyes softening, sensing her struggle. He was never one to force things, but he also knew her mom’s point.
Ava’s Dad: (sighing) Alright, we’ll give it a try. But if it’s not for you, we’ll figure something else out, okay?
Ava didn’t say anything, her mind racing. She hated being stuck in the middle of this battle. It felt like no matter what she did, she lost.
Ava: (muttering) Fine. I’ll go.
Ava’s mom gave her a look that was almost triumphant, like she’d won some sort of victory.
Ava’s Mom: (nodding) Good. I know this will be good for you.
Ava stood up from the table, unable to hold back the surge of anger any longer. She wasn’t ready to accept this, but there was no escaping it. The silence in the room grew heavier as she walked past her parents and out of the kitchen, heading to her room.
Ava’s Dad: (quietly, to his wife) Do you think this is really the right approach?
Ava’s Mom: (with conviction) She’s strong, Sam. She just doesn’t know it yet. Ballet will show her that.
Ava could hear their voices trailing off as she shut her bedroom door.
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