“Amazing.” He really was. He was keeping up, even though he’d never done ballet before. I rolled my ankle out. It ached a bit, but nothing I couldn’t handle.

“No, you’re amazing. You can lift your leg up to your ear and hold it there like it’s no big deal.” He guzzled down some water.

I smiled. I had to admit I’d impressed myself, too. It felt like forever since I’d done ballet, but it had come back to me in an instant. Like a song you think you’ve forgotten, but then it plays and you can still sing all the words.

And of course, ballet did feel different now. But not bad different.

Maybe some of my technique wasn’t the best, and maybe my ankle wobbled a little in relevé, but this dance wasn’t about perfection. This dance was about dreams and desire and joy and love. I felt all that while I was dancing, maybe more than I ever had before.

“And you choreographed all this?” Jude asked, his face full of awe.

“Not all of it. Some parts are from my favorite ballets.”

“Oh?” Jude tilted his head, inviting me to say more.

“Yeah. I just figured, this is the only time a lot of people in the audience will see ballet. And… maybe the last time I’ll dance it.”

Jude frowned a little, fiddling with the cap of his water bottle.

“I mean, I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet. But that’s okay. Ballet will always be a big part of my life. But if this is the last time I dance it, I figured I might as well dance my favorite parts.” The ones I’d never get to do.

Except, I was going to do them. And even if it wasn’t on the Metropolitan Opera House stage, even if it was in the Eagle View auditorium—birthplace of the mysterious Happy Crack, home to tap dancers and show people and women who said “fantabulous” unironically—it was still ballet. I was still finishing my hat. Just in a different way than I’d thought I would.

If I wanted to dance ballet again after the musical was over, I’d let myself do it. And if I didn’t want to, I’d let myself not. It seemed like a simple and momentous decision all at the same time.

“Should we run through it once more?” I asked. Jude nodded, taking one more gulp of water. “Just remember,” I said as we walked back to our positions on opposite ends of the stage. “This is a dream, a fantasy. So don’t hold back, okay?”

He locked eyes with me. “Okay.” I started the music.