“Me,” I said, and then it all came spilling out. “I didn’t want to learn ballet from Kira again. If I’m going to do it, I want to do it for myself. So Mrs. Sorenson and Ms. Langford talked through it and based on my experience, they actually agreed to let me choreograph.”

I still felt the thrill of that conversation. The possibilities that had raced through my head as I drove home, so excited to get started I could hardly stand it.

“That’s amazing!” Jude held his hand up for a high five. After our palms smacked together, our fingers interlocked for a moment before we let go.

“So should we start?” he asked, stepping back.

I nodded, all business. “The first thing we need to work on is your stance.” I moved forward and put my hands on his shoulders, gently pressing down on the taut muscles. Then I grazed my fingertips along the sides of his neck, pulling upward to elongate it. I felt a series of gentle contractions as he swallowed.

I stepped back and surveyed him. “Good. The only other thing is, you need to move your pelvis forward.”

He jutted it out. I snorted. “Not that much.” He pushed it back too far the other way. “No…” It looked like he was doing the pelvic-thrusting Rocky Horror dance.

“Here,” I said, stepping closer. “Do you mind?” I held my hands out.

He swallowed again. “Sure.”

I put my left hand at the base of his spine and my right hand just under his hipbone. His breathing went a little shallow, but he didn’t tense up. Ever so slightly, I pushed, bringing his pelvis into perfect alignment. “That’s it,” I said, quickly stepping back.

“Oh. Okay. Good.” Jude nodded, keeping his body rigid in his newfound ballet stance.

“It’ll feel more natural after a while, I promise,” I said. And then there was nothing more to do but teach him what I’d been working on nonstop for the past week.