For my sixth birthday my mama took me to see Swan Lake. Five months later she signed me up for ballet lessons and I received my first pair of pink leather dance slippers.

At first I didn't really like ballet. It was slow, it was boring, and I wasn't very good at it. Mama encouraged me to try other kinds of dance. I tried a little of everything but by my eighth birthday I had returned to ballet.

Around the age of ten I discovered the advantages of practicing. I began to practice daily, determined to be the best in my class. I moved up one class and another until, by my fourteenth birthday my dance instructor told me I was ready for point.

"Think about it for awhile though," she said. "Make sure ballet is really what you want to do for the rest of your life."

I couldn't picture doing anything but dancing and quickly signed up for the additional classes. During my junior and senior years I made time for a boyfriend, while still continuing my daily ballet lessons. Then on my eighteenth birthday, my mutation decided to come to life and my daddy kicked me out. As I packed my bag, I found space for one pair of point shoes, a reminder of everything that I was about to leave behind.

Three years later, more than two years after Logan had left, I finally forgave my mama for not standing up to my daddy and sent her a letter. In it I told her how much I loved her and all about my life at the mansion. At the end I wrote:

P.S. - Could you send me my stuff?

I sent the letter and tried not to expect an answer. Four days later a large box and a letter arrived for me. I dragged the box to my room and locked myself in. I sank to my knees by the box and ripped the letter open.

It read:

Dear Marie,

I'm glad you're doing well. I'm sending your things to you, but I sent ahead the things I knew you'd want most. They should arrive with this letter.

I love you,

Mother

I grabbed a pair scissors off my desk and slit the tape. As I opened the box, my eyes filled with tears. Inside were all my dance things, my leotards, tights and shoes. All my costumes and even my leg warmers were freshly washedand folded neatly into the box. I pulled everything out and spread it over my bed.

Late that evening, I finally had a chance to disappear down to the Danger Room. I took all my favorite things off the pile on my bed and threw them in a duffel bag. I slung it over my shoulder and headed down the silent halls.

The second sub level was dark and empty. I quickly changed into a pair of tights and a leotard, shivering in the cold. I set the Danger Room to level 19625, the level Hank had created for me. The stark metal room quickly turned into a dance studio. I laced up my point shoes and walked over to the stereo inthe corner, to turn on one of the cds I had brought. I stood still, letting the music wash over me. Slowly I began to dance. Before long, I had lost myself in the music and the movement. When the song ended, I walked over to my bag and pulled out a water bottle.

I picked out a new cd and started it up. As I turned to face myself in the mirror, I caught a glimpse of someone standing in the observation room. As I moved with the dance, I looked up to see who was watching me. I saw what looked like jeans and a plaid shirt. I smiled, Logan had come home!

This time when the song ended, I stopped the last pirouette so that I was facing the window. I looked up at Logan who was standing there with a cigar hanging out of his lips. I grinned and beckoned him to come down. He disappeared from sight and I heard him walking down the metal stairs. The next song started and I danced along with it. Logan opened the door and stepped into the room. I danced over to him and stopped.

I grinned and threw my arms around him. He took the cigar out of his mouth and hugged me with his other arm.

"I missed you," I told him.

"Missed you, too," he said, as he rubbed my back.

We stood that way for a long time, until my favorite song came on. I quickly let go of Logan and ran to the middle of the room. I prepared myself to begin the dance and Logan said, "What are you doing, kid?"

"I'm dancing, Logan. What does it look like I'm doing? This is my favorite song," I answered him as I leaped and twirled. I was out of practice but I was still able to do the intricate steps required.

"Giving a man a heart attack," Logan mumbled as he leaned against the mirror.

I continued to dance for three more hours. Logan eventually sat down against a wall, but he remained the entire time. Finally after my fifth missed jump he got up and turned off my CD.

"Hey," I complained as I sat on the floor. "I'm still dancing."

"No, you're not. You're going to bed. It's three am." He took the CD out of the stereo and walked over to me. He held out his hand.

I glared at it for a minute before saying, "Fine. I'm not tired though."

He pulled me up and I tried to hide a yawn. He smirked and hooked my arm through his, walking me over to where I had left my bag. He threw the CD into it and picked it up, as I swayed on my feet. Maybe I was more tired than I had thought.

"So, do you do this every night?" he asked.

"What? Dance for hours on end? No. This is the first time," I replied. Good thing Logan's holding me up, I thought. Otherwise I'd just fall over.

"The first time you've ever danced?" He tried again, clearly confused.

"No," I laughed. "I've been dancing since I was six. This is the first time I've danced here."

We were almost to my room, just fifty more feet.

"So why'd you wait till now?" he asked.

Forty feet.

"I didn't have any of my stuff. It came today."

Thirty feet.

"Well if it just came today, where'd it come from?"

Twenty feet.

"My mama sent it."

Ten feet.

"Here's your room."

I opened the door.

"Oh, geez." I smacked myself on the head.

"What?" Logan asked.

"Nothing. I just didn't clean off my bed and I have to do it now." I walked wearily over to my bed and sat down on the edge. Logan followed me into my room.

"Just toss it on the floor," he said.

“You can't just throw it on the floor!" I exclaimed. "It'll wrinkle! Do you know how hard it is to iron tulle?"

I picked up the nearest costume and walked over to the closet. I hung it up and turned to find Logan holding up a tiny fairy costume. I picked up a second outfit and hung it up. My muscles were beginning to get stiff.

"Isn't this a little small for you?" he asked.

I grinned. "That's the costume from my first recital. I was seven, so yes it's a little small."

Logan hung that costume up, I the next. Once they were all put away properly, I flopped down on the bed. My legs ached. I had done way more dancing than I should have. I closed my eyes and groaned as I sat back up.

"Ugh. I really don't want to take a shower," I complained.

"Then don't," Logan stated.

"I have to. I won't get to sleep if I don't." I picked up my pjs from the chair next to the bathroom door.

Logan stood up and headed toward the door.

"Night, kid," he said.

"Oh, Logan! I forgot. There aren't any spare bedrooms right now," I told him.

"I guess I'll be sleeping on a couch then," Logan said.

"You could sleep in my room," I said quietly.

His eyebrows rose. "What?"

I blushed. "I said you could sleep in my room. The bed's big enough for both of us."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Course! I'll even let you use my shower." I grinned.

"Geez, thanks kid," Logan said sarcastically.

"You're welcome, Logan."

When I came out of the bathroom, Logan was lying on my bed with his shoes off, watching TV.

"The bathroom's all yours," I said, trying not to think about how good he looked lying there, and how much better he'd look in my shower.

"Kay."

He turned off the TV and stood up. I walked past him and got into bed.

I was almost asleep when he exited the bathroom. He turned off the light and the last thing I felt was Logan, snuggled right up behind me with his arms around me.

"Good night, Marie," he mumbled.

I smiled but was too tired to answer. This was the perfect ending for a perfect day. I had the two things I loved most back in my life, Logan and dancing.