diate threat. I went back to the house when I knew Debra would

. She started in on me the seco

ick! You can't just walk out of a hos

ty can of extra-hold hairspray from her vanity tab

nd her nagging trailed off. "

ple. Her eyes rolled back and she crumpled to the floor. I dragged her

mber the hip-hop ins

oning for a spot in the "Rogue Wave" dance crew. They operated o

r. I poured all the rage, all the pain, all the betraya

his late twenties with inte

said. "Welcome

six mon

reathed hip-hop. I battled, I collaborated, I posted videos. And I went viral. My raw, aggressi

ss, but he was fair. He saw my talent, but

ave the discipline of a classical dancer but the

n a ballet scholarship would have ever p

o his office. He tossed a

illion views across all platforms," he said, a rare smile on

ew, glossy black Mustang. M

hand. I ran my fingers over the cool metal of the door. For the first

of new leather filling my lungs, a commoti

and my blo

optive mother. And behind them, a crowd. Local news crews with cameras, and a mob of

ing finger at me, her face

the parking lot. "There's the thief! She used the money