Aris

September 19.
Our first kiss tasted of cigarettes and tears. Still, it was simply perfect.
...
"That's it, Iris! Very good. Now I'll let you go, and you hold that position until I reach five, okay?"
Iris kept her balance while I held her. Then I let go, and she remained in the Arabesque position as I began to count slowly:
"One... two... three..."
She lost her balance, and I hurried to catch her, preventing her from falling.
"I can't do it, Miss Aris!" she whimpered.
It was just the two of us in the room. Mrs. Magalos had agreed to let me stay with the girl for an extra hour (according to her words, as long as I didn’t charge extra for it). The school had already closed, and after Iris left, I would stay there, again until late, to practice.
There were only three days left before the university dance qualifier. And, if I wasn’t very confident about making it as one of the three people out of thirty-eight participants to get the spot, this had been intensifying in recent days.
I was having a hard time concentrating. In fact, physical exhaustion was hitting me hard since I had been sleeping very little. Not just because of my busy schedule but also because I couldn’t get a certain bad boy out of my head.
That kiss had been amazing. But it was obvious that it probably meant nothing to him. After that, he took me by motorcycle to the student dormitory and left. We hadn’t met again. That day, Iris had been taken to the dance school by her driver.
"Of course you can do it," I assured. But the little one didn’t seem convinced. I extended my hand to her. "Come here with me."
She placed her hand over mine, and I led her to a corner of the room, where we sat on the floor, leaning against the wall.
"You’re doing really well, Iris. Remember when you couldn’t even hold the position at first? Now you can stay in it for three seconds."
"That’s very little, Miss Aris..."
"Look... To start with, since we’re not in official class time, how about you just call me Aris?"
"But you’re my teacher. Wouldn’t that be disrespectful?"
"When we’re not officially in class, I’ll be your friend. What do you think of that?"
I finally managed to get a smile out of her, though it was still quite shy.
"I’d like to be your friend," she replied.
"Perfect. So, since we’re friends now, I can tell you a secret: when I started taking ballet classes, I was a real disaster at balancing."
"I don’t believe that. You’re very good."

"But no one is very good when they’re just starting. And I need to confess one more thing: even now, I struggle with many things. Because I still have a lot to learn, just like you. Just like everyone."
"Do you think, when I grow up, I’ll be as good as you?"
"Are you kidding? You have everything to be much better than I am."
Her smile faded, replaced by a look of sadness.
"Miss... I mean, Aris... Can I ask you something, now that we’re friends?"
"Of course."
"Does your mom feel happy when she sees you dancing?"
I understood exactly the purpose of the question, and it made my chest fill with sadness as well. I realized then that Iris hoped to bring joy and pride to her mother through her dance. Maybe that was why she felt so frustrated with her difficulties in some positions.
"Can I tell you another secret?" I asked. She nodded. "Actually, I have two mothers. And a stepmother, who is like a third mother to me."
A look of astonishment spread across her face.
"All that?"
"Yes. And, yes, they are very proud when they see me dance. But they are also very worried."
"Worried about you falling?"
"Not exactly," I said, unable to suppress a laugh. "I had a very complicated surgery when I was a child, even younger than you. So, if I exert myself too much, I might... get too tired and end up feeling unwell."
"Then why do you keep dancing, Aris?"
"Because it’s what I love to do. And I’ll only feel unwell if I push myself too hard. But still, they worry."
"My mom doesn’t worry about me like that..."

All I wanted at that moment was to be able to take away the pain that child felt. But I knew I didn’t have that power, so all I could do was try to ease it a little.
"You know, Iris... Sometimes we can’t express what we feel through words or even gestures. I know your mother has suffered two irreparable losses in her life. And when such things happen, sometimes people change so much that they can no longer show their feelings properly. But I’m sure your mother loves you very much."
"I don’t think so. She barely talks to me. Every year, around Christmas, Mrs. Magalos throws a party and all the classes perform a dance. All the other mothers come, except mine. It was Dimitris who came last year."
"Maybe she’ll come this year."
"And if you ask her, Aris?"
"Me?"
"Yes. You have the best hug in the world. I’m sure no one would refuse you anything."
She laughed, and I joined her in laughter, regretting that her mother would probably not feel comfortable with a complete stranger showing up at her house to hug her.
"So, I have the best hug in the world, don’t I?" I teased, pulling her close and hugging her tightly while covering her little face with kisses.
She laughed so spontaneously and delightfully that it made my heart overflow with an incredible feeling.
At that moment, we heard a knock on the door.
"Your driver is here," I announced, getting up and pulling her along.
"Already? And I still haven’t managed to balance in the Arabesque."
"You’ve made a lot of progress. And we’ll practice more next week."
"You’re really not coming on Thursday or Saturday?"
"No. Mrs. Magalos gave me a few days off because I have an important commitment on Friday."
I didn’t want to tell her that the commitment was a dance performance. From what I already knew about Iris, she would want to watch and, if I made it through, she would get excited about the possibility of me making it to the final. And that was definitely not my intention.