I shout as I watch the dancers move in unison to the strains of “I Have a Dream.” “Stop!” I yell, shaking my head. “Donavan, you can’t miss the lift there. Everyone has to be up at the same time and down at the same time. Try it again, from the top!” Rehearsals for “Mamma Mia” are going really well. I finished the choreography for most of the musical numbers. I hope the experience from choreographing this musical will help get me into a fabulous dance department in a performing arts university somewhere. I’m not sure yet exactly where I wanted to go, but I’ve always known what I want to do. Dance and performing are everything to me. I grab a water bottle when rehearsal ends, and sit down on the studio floor to take off my jazz shoes. “Girl, you’re a tough teacher. I’d be scared outta my mind to mess up in front of you.” I jerk my head up, looking for the source of the voice. Luka stands in the doorway, watching me. His arms are folded across his broad chest, and a wide grin spreads over his face.
