Read Online In the Air by Crystal Serowka - Free Book Online
Authors: Crystal Serowka
Tags: Contemporary, General Fiction
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shows. I reached for my phone to find a nearby coffee shop and saw that Cafe Lalo was only a mile away. It was featured in You've Got Mail, and since that was one of my favorite movies, I had to visit.
I felt my purse vibrate. Digging out my phone, I saw that I had missed a call from home. My heart grew heavy remembering the times my dad would call to check up on me. It wasn't long ago that I was sitting in the uncomfortable pleather chairs, reading three-year-old magazines, waiting for my dad to finish his chemotherapy treatment. The day he lost his battle to cancer, I lost a piece of myself. Not having my father around for the past year had been extremely hard. Now, with it just being my mother and me, I had to stand up to her by myself. I hadn't figured out how to do that yet.
"Hello, Natalia. I've only talked to you once this week. Your dance teachers must be keeping you very busy."
Immediately, I became irritated. She couldn't even ask how I was doing. "I have been busy. As a matter of fact, I'm on my way to a cafe now to do some homework."
"You mean you're not in the studio practicing? Honey, it's Saturday morning. You should have been practicing for at least two hours already."
I was tempted to hang up, but knew if I did that, the tension would become thicker than it already was. "Mom, I have other classes outside of dance." I stated. My mother didn't understand the rigorous schedule I was faced with my first year. I was completing a four-year degree and at the end, I'd receive my Bachelor of Fine Arts. Since I was getting a degree, it was a requirement for me to take courses outside of dance, ones that focused on writing skills and verbal expression. Even though it was just two Liberal Arts courses I took for the year, my mother believed it would completely take away from the nine classes all centered around dance.
"I don't understand why you didn't just audition for the Milwaukee Ballet School. If you had, you would have been accepted and able to focus on only dance." The sternness in her voice grated in my ears.
"You'll never be happy with what I achieve in my life, will you? Even if I would have gone to Milwaukee, you still would have found something wrong."
"I always told you that dancers don't need degrees. If you're good, you'll get into a company."
Her comment fueled my anger. "Mom, I have to go. I'm at the cafe and it's loud in here. I'll talk to you later. Bye."
As usual, my mother found a way to make me feel as if I was stupid for wanting more. I missed having at least one supportive parent.
I climbed the steps into Cafe Lalo. The inside was just as immaculate as the outside. My eyes immediately went to the expansive glass display, filled with every pastry you could ever want. The brick walls were adorned with colorful paintings throughout the cafe. All but one table was taken, and I grabbed the leather nailhead chair, just as another couple was coming across it. "Sorry, table's taken." They each gave me dirty looks and stormed off. I was already becoming a good New Yorker.
"Good morning. Welcome to Cafe Lalo. My name is Max. Can I take your order?" The man smiled at me, squinting behind his wire-framed glasses.
Being a dancer, you constantly had to be mindful of everything you put into your body. My mother always reminded me not to eat sugar or carbs. Now that I was at Juilliard, I had to be even more conscious of what I ate. Other than the incredible looking pastries that filled the displays, Cafe Lalo had a variety of yummy dishes on their menu, so I chose the organic oatmeal with raisins and hazelnuts. I also ordered a coffee and instructed Max to keep it coming. Caffeine: an addiction I refused to kick.
I sat at my cozy table, drinking my third cup of coffee. I hadn't felt this stress-free since before my dad passed away. I looked up from my paper I was writing, and noticed Samson walking into the shop. My first thought was that he followed me here, but then I snapped back to reality. I
I felt my purse vibrate. Digging out my phone, I saw that I had missed a call from home. My heart grew heavy remembering the times my dad would call to check up on me. It wasn't long ago that I was sitting in the uncomfortable pleather chairs, reading three-year-old magazines, waiting for my dad to finish his chemotherapy treatment. The day he lost his battle to cancer, I lost a piece of myself. Not having my father around for the past year had been extremely hard. Now, with it just being my mother and me, I had to stand up to her by myself. I hadn't figured out how to do that yet.
"Hello, Natalia. I've only talked to you once this week. Your dance teachers must be keeping you very busy."
Immediately, I became irritated. She couldn't even ask how I was doing. "I have been busy. As a matter of fact, I'm on my way to a cafe now to do some homework."
"You mean you're not in the studio practicing? Honey, it's Saturday morning. You should have been practicing for at least two hours already."
I was tempted to hang up, but knew if I did that, the tension would become thicker than it already was. "Mom, I have other classes outside of dance." I stated. My mother didn't understand the rigorous schedule I was faced with my first year. I was completing a four-year degree and at the end, I'd receive my Bachelor of Fine Arts. Since I was getting a degree, it was a requirement for me to take courses outside of dance, ones that focused on writing skills and verbal expression. Even though it was just two Liberal Arts courses I took for the year, my mother believed it would completely take away from the nine classes all centered around dance.
"I don't understand why you didn't just audition for the Milwaukee Ballet School. If you had, you would have been accepted and able to focus on only dance." The sternness in her voice grated in my ears.
"You'll never be happy with what I achieve in my life, will you? Even if I would have gone to Milwaukee, you still would have found something wrong."
"I always told you that dancers don't need degrees. If you're good, you'll get into a company."
Her comment fueled my anger. "Mom, I have to go. I'm at the cafe and it's loud in here. I'll talk to you later. Bye."
As usual, my mother found a way to make me feel as if I was stupid for wanting more. I missed having at least one supportive parent.
I climbed the steps into Cafe Lalo. The inside was just as immaculate as the outside. My eyes immediately went to the expansive glass display, filled with every pastry you could ever want. The brick walls were adorned with colorful paintings throughout the cafe. All but one table was taken, and I grabbed the leather nailhead chair, just as another couple was coming across it. "Sorry, table's taken." They each gave me dirty looks and stormed off. I was already becoming a good New Yorker.
"Good morning. Welcome to Cafe Lalo. My name is Max. Can I take your order?" The man smiled at me, squinting behind his wire-framed glasses.
Being a dancer, you constantly had to be mindful of everything you put into your body. My mother always reminded me not to eat sugar or carbs. Now that I was at Juilliard, I had to be even more conscious of what I ate. Other than the incredible looking pastries that filled the displays, Cafe Lalo had a variety of yummy dishes on their menu, so I chose the organic oatmeal with raisins and hazelnuts. I also ordered a coffee and instructed Max to keep it coming. Caffeine: an addiction I refused to kick.
I sat at my cozy table, drinking my third cup of coffee. I hadn't felt this stress-free since before my dad passed away. I looked up from my paper I was writing, and noticed Samson walking into the shop. My first thought was that he followed me here, but then I snapped back to reality. I
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