The Turning Pointe by Vanessa L. Torres

Author:Vanessa L. Torres [Torres, Vanessa L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2022-02-22T00:00:00+00:00

Gloria Estrella Dominguez Corredor

“I wanted to tell Gloria about something that happened in school. I can’t even remember what it was now. Probably something stupid. It always was. I was fourteen. And Glo was the age I am now. It’s weird to think about that.”

The confessional disintegrates and I’m back in our kitchen, a year and a half ago.

“It’s winter. And Geno is relentless about her training. Summer-program auditions for American Ballet Theatre are the next day. And we all know Glo will be perfect. She’ll make it to New York. Which, for me, means an entire July as Geno’s sole focus, because Mom will go with her.

“Glo tries to make me feel better, saying things like I’ll totally write you every day. Or, I’ll smuggle back some real New York pizza. But I know those things are impossible. She’ll get off that plane and forget all about me.”

A break in my voice brings me back to the now. For the first time, I’m not making up a bunch of shit to pacify some priest. I stare at the cross hanging in the corner, my heart thumping against the one around my neck.

I’m gone again, to winter 1982.

“Mom scolds me when I come home because I slam the door for the thousandth time. My sister, she doesn’t even look up, so engrossed in tricking out her shoes for the audition. She’s at the kitchen table, burning the ends of her pointe shoe ribbons, Mom peering over her shoulder to make sure she does it just right. Glo’s wearing jean overalls. Funny how I can’t remember why I needed to talk to her just then, but those stupid overalls are so clear—the iron-on flower patch on the bib, the left strap fastened with a giant safety pin.

“Glo’s callused feet are bare, toenails painted with chipped black polish. Mom’s hair up in a fuzzy bun. No plastic tubing and nutrition bags on the counter, just a pitcher of strawberry Kool-Aid and a box of graham crackers.

“I’m, like, waiting by the edge of the table for Glo to notice me. When she doesn’t, I shake the snow off my jacket, which she totally ignores too. So, I start pacing, because I’m pissed. I want her to see me, hear me—maybe feel sorry enough to blow off the audition. I poke at her back and she spins around, barking at me like I’m five, Patient pants, Rosa!

“But I’m done being ignored. I snatch her pointe shoe and race out the door. Glo chases after me, bare feet and all. She laughs at first. I can hear her behind me. But then she realizes I’m not joking and starts yelling, Don’t even, Rosa! Grow up!”

I press my thumbs into my temples, Nikki’s breathing heavy from the other side.

“It happened so fast. Seconds maybe, because I can’t see it anymore. Not really. Not the way I want to….

“A truck drives down our street, and I see my opportunity. I want Glo to pay for leaving, for acting like she doesn’t give a shit, when I know she does.

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