Alex Ko by Alex Ko Page A

right now. I’m afraid we can’t afford to send you to PNB. I’m so, so sorry.”
    I felt like I was in a horror movie. How was that possible? How could I be here, in Seattle, at PNB, taking classes , and not be able to go? Maybe I’d misheard her somehow.
    “But . . . they said they would! They promised.” I could feel my face growing hot as I spoke. Not only did I feel awful, I was embarrassed too. I hate being emotional in public.
    “I know, and they feel terrible. I feel terrible. And I can’t imagine how you feel. But we don’t have the money, Alex. We can’t change that. If I could, I would.”
    She put her hand on my shoulder and squeezed it gently, but I was numb.
    “Why? Mom, they promised!” I knew I was repeating myself, but it just didn’t make any sense. Why was this happening, just when it seemed like things were finally working out? I could feel tears welling up, and I forced them back down.
    “I don’t know, honey.” She sniffed. She was near crying too. “I just got off the phone with them. They can’t afford it right now, and we can’t either.”
    This isn’t fair! Part of me wanted to scream. I wanted to run back to the studio and beg them to take me. I’d live in the lobby. I’d clean the bathrooms! I’d do anything if they would just let me stay.
    But the bigger part of me knew that Mom was right. Even with the scholarship, we couldn’t afford it, not without help. And there was no one else we could ask. My plan was falling apart. How would I live up to the promise I had given Dad? If we couldn’t afford teachers, how could I become a great ballet dancer? Suddenly everything was up in the air.
    Thankfully, God had plans I didn’t know about.

Chapter 13
My First Step to Broadway
    “T oday is a beautiful day,” I whispered, looking at the ceiling from the top of the bunk beds I shared with Matt. I hadn’t looked outside, and I didn’t have anything special planned, but I hoped to make it true just by saying the sentence out loud. I know it sounds cheesy, but try it sometime. It doesn’t work if you don’t mean it, though. You have to convince yourself: today IS a beautiful day.
    And I needed it. I was still reeling from learning that I wouldn’t be going to PNB—or anywhere else this summer. When I got back to Iowa, I went right to my room and locked the door behind me. I couldn’t stop thinking about everything I had worked for, and how it had all come to nothing. But the real reason I was so sad was that I had let Dad down. I wanted to be great for him, and how could I without great teachers?
    For about a week, I moped around feeling sorry for myself, and angry at my grandparents. Everything was so . . . unfair. What’s the point of working so hard , I thought, if being the best doesn’t even matter?
    Strangely enough, it was talking to Dad that helped me feel better. Every time I tried to tell him that it had all gone wrong, and I had totally failed, I could hear his voice in my head saying, “God doesn’t make mistakes. Don’t give up.” I knew what I had to do: I had to forget PNB and move on. I didn’t want to look at anything PNB, or watch a PNB ballet. In my head, PNB and I had broken up.
    It took one week of being back in Iowa, taking ballet, and hanging out with Matt and John to really drive PNB out of my mind.
    And then Eloy stopped me after class one day.
    “Sarah and I are going to New York for ten days,” he said. “Do you want to come?”
    Instantly, I knew two things. First, I wanted to go. What performer doesn’t dream about New York City? I probably thought about New York every single day of my life. Second, Mom was going to say no. Ten days in the big city without her? No way. She liked Eloy and Sarah, but we hadn’t known them that long.
    “I’ll have to check with my mom,” I told Eloy. I didn’t want to say that I wanted to go until I knew I could actually do it.
    “Check with her,” he agreed. “She can talk to me if she