Ella’s Dancing Dilemma (part 4)

Dad pulled into the school parking lot just as mom finished sewing on the last strap. I ran inside to get dressed and warm up with the rest of my class. I hoped no one would notice my mended slipper. The red thread didn’t exactly match the pink satin.

Two minutes before the music started, I felt a tiny tug on my frilly pink and white tutu. “Ellie?” Betty whispered, eyes red from crying. “I’m very, very sorry.”

“What’re you doing here?” I hissed.

“It’s okay, Ellie,” my teacher smiled. “I’ll watch her. Go ahead, you’re on.”

I thought it would bother me having my sister back stage, but once the music started and I was dancing, I forgot all about Betty and being mad. I was too busy trying to remember my steps.

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