Dancing for the Lord The Academy - By Emily Goodman Page 0,3

knew her too well—and he’d received more than one note with exactly that over the years.

Danni giggled. “Either that, or choreography in the margins,” she reminded him.

Michael rolled his eyes. “And here I thought that was what the bulk of the letter would be about!”

“As if you’d appreciate it,” she shot back primly.

“Hey, you’re the creative mind here. I just follow instructions.” Which had made for a wonderful partnership over the years, actually. She told him what to do, and he did it, usually flawlessly and the first time. Some of that was that Danni knew how to explain things to him so that they just made sense; some of it was that he had an instinctive grasp for things explained that way, so that it took him only a single attempt to realize what someone wanted of him. If Danni had to explain something more than once, it was usually because she hadn’t had the vision entirely clear in her own mind when she had started.

He had been a wonderful partner. Danni found her eyes filling with tears—tears that she tried to hide by burying her face a little bit deeper in his shoulder.

Of course, that didn’t fool Michael. He had always possessed a nearly uncanny ability to see straight through her no matter how hard she tried to convince him otherwise. “Hey—what’s wrong, Dragonfly?” he demanded. “You ought to be overjoyed! This is what all the planning and hoping has been for, remember?”

“What am I going to do without you, Michael?” she whispered desperately.

“Hey.” He folded her into his arms, holding on tight. There was security there, and peace—two things that Danni suspected were going to be in very short supply in the near future. “You know what you’re going to do. You’re going to get there, and you’re going to dance your heart out before your God. The rest of those people? They don’t matter. What matters is performing for him, and knowing at the end of every day that you’ve done your absolute best.”

Danni blinked, so surprised that she even stopped crying. Michael had said those words to her before, of course—or at least similar words. They’d been spoken before every recital, every competition, every show. Never before, however, had they been spoken with such passion and determination—and never before had they sparked her heart in quite that way.

Michael smiled, knowing immediately that his words had done what he intended for them to do. “See? Just another performance,” he told her quietly. “And yeah, you’re going solo for a little while—but I’ll be back beside you soon enough.”

She wondered if he could possibly know how much those words meant to her—but of course he knew. He was Michael.

Danni stared up into his eyes, memorizing their familiar and yet ever-changeable depths. Blue, yes; but they could go anywhere from blue-green to blue-grey depending on his moods, and she swore that when he lifted his heart to God and danced in a way that was truly for him alone, his eyes shone pure silver.

They were entirely blue as he stared down at her now, memorizing her features just as desperately as she was memorizing his. “For what it’s worth, I don’t have any idea how I’m going to manage solo, either,” he admitted quietly. The look on his face said that he hadn’t meant to tell her that; the warmth in Danni’s heart told her that it was genuine.

“You’ll manage,” she promised him. “One way or another, you’ll manage—and besides, you already said it. We’ll be back together before you even have time to miss me.” She forced a smile to her face, realizing that the moment was turning too serious. It wouldn’t do either of them any good to dwell on goodbye—and besides, there were good things ahead. They wanted this—and more importantly, God wanted it for them.

Danni’s voice turned teasing as she said, “You just make sure you don’t get too out of practice without me here to push you. I’d hate to have to start over from scratch when you get to the Academy.”

Michael’s expression didn’t change, still torn between the gentle, familiar banter and the desperate pain at parting. “And you don’t work too hard, okay?” he demanded roughly. “I know you—you’ll push until you don’t have anything left if there isn’t someone there to sit on you.”

“I’ll be careful.” Suddenly, Danni meant that promise more than she had in all the years of their partnership. She would be careful…because Michael wouldn’t be here