Forged by Fire by Sharon M. Draper Page A

lucky one yet.”
    Angel giggled and pretended to punch him. Her teacher called from backstage, and Angel blew Gerald a quick kiss. He reached out, pretended to catch the invisible kiss, smacked the side of his cheek, and grinned. She smiled at him and disappeared behind the curtain.
    The crowd hushed, the lights were lowered, and the music began. Dancers filled the stage, delicately moving with the music, filling the room with magic.
    â€œI wonder where Jordan is,” muttered Monique, who spent more time watching the door than the stage.
    Gerald ignored her.
    â€œWhere’s Angel, Gerald?” whispered Kiara, who was sitting on his other side.
    â€œSh-sh-sh. Here she comes.”
    The stage was dark for a moment, and silent; then suddenly, with a burst of golden light and an orchestral overture from the CD player behind the curtain, Angel stepped onto the stage.

    The story she danced was about a lost child, a child who feared the darkness but found the light with the help of the wind and the stars. It was as if the dance had been created just for her. As she danced, Gerald could feel her pain; he could see her fear and misery. The music was her voice, and the dance was her only means of escape.
    When the music finally stopped, the audience reacted with stunned silence; the dance had been so beautiful and expressive. Gradually, the applause grew from very small to a thunderous standing ovation for the little girl who took her bows with tears in her eyes.
    Gerald was so proud of her he was about to explode. He clapped so hard that his hands hurt. He cheered. He whistled. He stomped his feet.
    â€œWow, Gerald!” shouted Mr. Washington over the deafening applause. “I didn’t know she was such a beautifully talented girl. We’re so glad we came.”
    Kiara, who hadn’t really been into ballet, cheered as well, admiring her new friend’s talents. Angel was going to spend the night with Kiara after the show. Her parents had promised they could go get ice cream, rent a video, and sleep as late as they wanted the next morning.
    Monique clapped also, but she seemed nervous and kept looking over her shoulder toward the back of the auditorium. Jordan had not arrived.
    â€œHe’ll be sorry he missed this,” she whispered to Gerald.
    â€œI’m glad he did. It would dirty a beautiful moment for Angel.”
    â€œDon’t be so mean, Gerald. Hasn’t he been a perfect gentleman since he’s been out? Hasn’t he tried to show you that he’s sorry and he’s changed? You gotta learn to forgive and forget!”
    Gerald sighed. Monique would never see, because she didn’t want to see. Yes, Jordan had been acting perfectly. But Gerald was sure that it was just that—an act. He did not trust Jordan Sparks.

EIGHTEEN
    W HEN SCHOOL LET out for the summer, Monique let Jordan move back into the apartment. Angel was sullen and quiet; Gerald was angry, but helpless. Jordan went out of his way to be polite and non-threatening. In the five months since he had gotten out of prison, he had not touched Gerald, hadn’t even raised his voice. And he had stayed very clear of Angel, speaking to her only to praise her or ask her questions. Monique was extremely happy, for not only was Jordan moving back, but he seemed to be the man that she had always dreamed he could be.
    Angel talked to Kiara on the phone almost daily, and that seemed to help her depression and concern. She no longer threw up every day, but she stayed nervous and tense.
    It was hot in the small apartment and Gerald was restless. He wanted to go play basketball with his friends, but he was afraid to leave the house. While he felt it was his job to protect Angel, he also needed to get out.
    â€œMonique, I’m gonna go hoop for a little bit. You keep an eye out for Angel for me?”
    â€œSure, Gerald. Go ahead. You worry too much. She’ll be fine. I’ll make sure. Go—have some fun