Alex Ko by Alex Ko Page B

wants. I think it would be good for you to see what it’s like in the city.” That’s how he said it, as though there was only one city in the world. The city. “Going to New York will make you more well-rounded, and anyway, you’ll have to go eventually if you continue being this good!”
    Making him proud felt almost as good as making Dad proud.
    I called Mom immediately, even though she was already on her way to pick me up.
    “I have to talk to you about something,” I said.
    “What is it?”
    “It’s nothing bad,” I said quickly. “But I can’t tell you until we’re home.”
    “Aaa-lex,” she said, a warning tone in her voice. She hated when I did this.
    If I knew she wasn’t going to respond well to something, I tried to tell her at the best time possible. If I told her while we were still at the university, she would march right back into the studio to talk to Eloy and say no, and I’d never get to New York. I had to convince her slowly.
    The whole way home I could tell she was annoyed, but I refused to spill the beans until we were in the house.
    “What?” she asked as soon as the front door closed behind us.
    “Eloy invited me to New York with him,” I started.
    “No,” she said, and turned away.
    “But he thinks it’ll be good for me!” I protested.
    “No,” she repeated. “End of story. I’m sorry, Alex, it’s a fantastic offer and you should thank Eloy from both of us. But I just don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”
    I’d been expecting this, so I wasn’t too upset. I had a plan. I waited a few days, then started begging.
    “Please?”
    “Pretty please?”
    “I’ll do anything you want.”
    “Pleeeeeeeease!”
    “Anything. I’ll do anything .”
    “I’ll do extra chores for the next two years.”
    “I’ll mow the lawn for the next ten years.”
    “Anything!”
    After a week, she agreed to talk to Eloy. I knew it was a lot to ask, to let your twelve-year-old son go to New York City with just his dance teachers, but I could handle it—if Eloy convinced her I’d be in good hands.
    “Let me think about it,” she said after talking to Eloy. She felt better knowing that it was going to be Eloy, Sarah, and their baby going as a family. Also, Eloy mentioned that we’d be staying at Sarah’s sister’s house outside the city, which was both safer and cheaper. But Mom was still worried, and money was still an issue. The trip was a week and a half, so it would be way less expensive than any of the summer programs I’d looked at, but it would still cost money, which we didn’t have much of.
    Finally, after weeks of saying “let me think about it,” Mom sat me down.
    “Here are the rules,” she said.
    “I agree!” I yelled, before she’d even said another word. Her serious face dissolved into a laugh, and I knew everything would work out.
    “You will call home every day,” she said when she caught her breath. “You and I are planning out your entire schedule in advance so I know where you are at all times. And you’re taking as many ballet classes as you can, because you deserve them.”
    Eloy arranged for me to study at Steps on Broadway, one of the premier dance studios in New York City. I was so excited I could barely believe it. I packed my schedule with as many classes as I could fit. If I was only going to be there for ten days, I wanted to make the most of it.
    Little did I know that “making the most of it” in New York City could lead to some very big things. . . .
     
    I’ll never forget the city growing bigger and brighter beneath us as our plane descended for landing. The lights seemed to go on forever. It felt like you could drop Iowa City down in the middle of Manhattan and it would be swallowed up without a burp. I was just some kid, with little money and worse luck. Would I drown in the city, or shine bright? I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
    My fear and excitement grew as I entered Steps on Broadway for the first time. People