Amelia
"So good to see you again, Amelia," Mrs. Wendy greeted me with a hug.
"I missed you, too, Mrs. Wendy. And I do miss the ballet classes."
"I understand that you had to stop taking classes to help your papa with his bakery. And I know you can hardly afford to pay for those classes. That is why I decided to grant you a scholarship."
"I don't know how I deserve to have a scholarship in a prestigious school," I admitted.
"Because you have exquisite talent. I observed that you are a graceful dancer, more graceful than those I've seen before here in this school."
"You don't need to flatter me, Mrs. Wendy," I said sheepishly.
"But it's true!" she exclaimed. "I'll make sure Elena will see that."
I smiled at her and looked up. "It's a big school, isn't it?"
She had her hand on my back as she guided me through the doors. "And the most prestigious. The royal members of the family are taught by tutors from this school. However, they haven't been here. They were homeschooled. I do remember Elena telling me that she tutored King Cedric's sons."
"Really?"
Mrs. Wendy nodded. "It's obviously convenient for the princes to be tutored by a senior tutor who finished Mastery of Arts."
"I agree."
The interior of the school resembled like a palace, just as the exterior of it. It's not that I've seen a real palace with my own eyes, just the ones that I see from the books. Gold trimmings and white walls decorated the halls, expensive furnitures I haven't seen before scattered into their places, people passing by each other wearing clothes that I wished to have on my wardrobe. A big chandelier hung on the ceiling, giving the room a golden yellow glow that made the golden furnitures shine.
I was in awe. I have never seen such exquisite place ever in my life. That's what I got for living in the countryside.
As much as I wanted to touch them, my conscience would repeatedly tell me to keep my hands to myself. I couldn't bear to bring trouble, not that I am a troublemaker. Save my curiosity for my safety.
"You said you found a dormitory at the East Village."
"I did."
"I could've offered you a room in a dormitory sponsored by the school if you'd written me a letter before you got settled in one."
"That's okay. A nice walk from the school would be good. Helps me get familiarized with the Central."
Mrs. Wendy hummed. "Alright then. I'll introduce you to Elena first. Then I'll give you a tour around the place."
"That'd be lovely."
We turned a few corners before we were outside the tutors' room. Mrs. Wendy walked in, whispering for me to come in, and I followed her silently. The room was bright and unexpectedly big. Not like the small tutors' rooms back in our village. This day seemed to be a vacant day for them and for the students, so they were all inside having a chat with each other.
"Wendy! Where have you been? We were just talking about having dinner at the new restaurant across the street," one of the tutors spoke.
"The one people are lining up at?"
"Yes. They said food is excellent there."
"Of course." When she turned around, she widened her eyes and remembered I was behind her. "By the way, this is Amelia. She's the new scholar for this term at ballet class."
They all greeted me, and I greeted back shyly.
"Where's Elena?"
At that moment, a woman the same age as Mrs. Wendy came in. She looked more sophisticated than anyone else in the room, and in front of her I felt insecure. She was looking up and down at me before asking.
"Who's this?"
"Right on time. Elena, this is Amelia, the new scholar I've been talking about." Mrs. Wendy turned to me. "Amelia, this is Elena. She and I will be your ballet tutors for this term."
"It's nice to meet you, Elena."
"Ms. Elena. Every student does not call us with just our names. It's informal."
She spoke slowly, but with a tone that was strict and emphasized every consonant. I nodded once and pursed my lips. "Ms. Elena. I'm looking forward to your classes."
Her smile was forced, somewhat mocking. "Very well."
She walked past me and Mrs. Wendy and to her desk in the room. Sensing the awkward environment in between me and Ms. Elena, despite the other tutors not noticing our encounter, Mrs. Wendy cleared her throat.
"Right. Let's get you around the building."
~~~
When I got back to the dormitory, two letters were waiting for me. Each from Noah and Papa. I hurried to my room to start reading their letters.
When I got to my room, I sat on my bed and began to open them one at a time.
---
Dear Amelia,
I hope you are having a good stay at the Central. How I wish to be with you right now, but then again, I have to help your father. Not really forced though. I volunteered.
There's not an hour where I start to miss you. How can you blame me? We were inseparable when we were younger. We spent every time playing in the fields, or watching Vince bake, or even helping him bake. Now that we are grown up, we could still do that. But we have our own priorities. You with the ballet thing. And me with...nothing. I mean I could find a job there at the Central, but I can't leave my family yet. And Vince needs help with the bakery. So there you go. My priorities as of now.
If only I could watch you ballet again. Maybe soon. Or dance with you under the stars. Just like when we were kids. With no other people watching, just the stars, or the grass, or the sun, or the wind.
When I finish writing this letter, I'll be going to Vince and start helping. I hope you're fine wherever you are.
Noah
---
Amelia,
As I'm writing this right now, my heart is longing for you. I miss you already. When you left to catch the early train to get to the Central, I started to feel lonely without having you around the house. Noah is a very kind man to help me cope. You never lost my sight, and now that you left, I couldn't stop thinking about the days I took care of you.
I never would've imagined that you would have to leave this town sooner. I was expecting a little later, but then I thought I can't keep you from your dreams. In fact, I want you to pursue it. Seeing you become passionate in your dreams to become a ballerina makes me so proud. And I will always be proud of you.
My dear Amelia. Years have gone by, and you have grown so much. I remember when you were just a little kid twirling and dancing at the kitchen while I prepare breads and rolls to be sold. I remember seeing you and Mrs. Wendy practice, and you wouldn't rest until you got it perfectly and precisely. You really deserve that scholarship.
I will have to stop right here. Writing more of this letter might make it harder for me to let go of the pen. I hope you're safe out there.
Your dear Papa