“N ope , nope. Start from the top. That shit was weak! What ? Y’all tired? Y’all need some water or something? Because if I’m not mistaken, y’all just got a water break five minutes ago! Y’all dancing like y’all half asleep. It’s a lot of talking going on around the studio about you guys wanting to be state champs again this year, but dancing like that, y’all better hope you even place in the top three. Let’s go! From the stop!” I yelled, standing in the middle of the dance studio after just removing my whistle from my lips.

I blew it to get their attention and to stop them from dancing. We were having a Saturday morning practice that would be over in the next hour or so, but those boys and girls knew that if they didn’t perform the way I needed them to, I would have them all get on that phone to send a text message to mama, daddy, uncle, grandma, brother, cousin, whoever was in charge of picking them up from practice to let them know that practice would go on for another hour. I was a perfectionist, and because I was that way, I expected them to be damn near perfect. Today , they just weren’t giving me that.

The Serenity Starlets were currently in practice. My studio was decorated in white, pink, and gold. Every dancer was required to be in uniform, and the uniform would switch up each practice. Because I loved to look at a uniformed team, they knew that if they weren’t in the right uniform for practice, they couldn’t even step foot in my studio. Oh , and there would be no reason to call a parent to bring the right uniform because, by the time they’d get there with the proper uniform, they would be late, and no one could walk into my practice a minute late. Again , my rules might have been tough, but I was preparing them for the real dance world, especially since many of the dancers wanted to be professionals when they grew up.

Today , they were in pink, white, and gold body suits with pink tights. The few boys on the team were shirtless with gold tights. Each dancer was barefoot, and everyone with hair had it pulled up into a bun, and there wasn’t any jewelry on any of them.

I was sure that if one of them could get in my face and tell me to shut the fuck up without getting a punishment, they would have done it this morning because I had been on their asses really hard since practice started an hour ago.

“From the top. Do it full out, too. My son’s eighth grade dance doesn’t start until eight o’clock tonight, so baby, I got all day. Jonathan , you got all day?” I questioned one of my coaches, who laughed and shook his head, letting me know he had all day, even though I knew he didn’t. He’d already told me about a brunch that he was going to at noon, so he had to leave on time, but you know he just had to go with the flow of things.

The team got in formation, and with my phone hooked up to the Bluetooth speakers, I went ahead and played the song. We were working on a piece from Beyonce’s new album, Renaissance . “Alien Superstar ” had me in a chokehold since the moment I heard the song while in my car. I was literally at a red light making up dance moves to the song, so it was only right that I dedicated our dance pieces to most of the songs on the album.

The piece that they were doing now was my favorite dance that I had come up with in a very long time. It was super detailed, and the technique pushed each dancer, so no one could say it was easy. When I taught the piece to Jonathan , even he didn’t catch on to it as quickly as he would with any other piece that I’d given to him in the past. There was ballet in it, hip hop, a few jazz steps, and just intricate choreography that would force the dancers to push themselves.

“Hit . Hit . Hit . Down , and hold it. Hold it. Y’all better hold them leg raises. Let’s go, y’all!” I screamed, hyping them as they went through the entire piece.

I watched them closely, paying attention to every little mistake, every formation that needed to be fixed, and anything else that needed to be cleaned up. Yelling at their asses and threatening to let practice go on for another hour had awakened something in them because this was the best they’d performed that piece since I’d given it to them. The performance that they’d just given wasn’t the best, but it was much cleaner, and that was all I asked for.

“Better ,” I stated, and I could see it in their faces that they were relieved by my answer.

I let them get another water break, and as soon as they finished, we were going to work on spacing in certain parts throughout the piece because their spacing was off so badly. Overall , though, I was more than satisfied with the Starlet team that I’d picked this season, even though I had one hell of a job to do. This was the first time in history that I’d ever had a team this big. Usually , it was just thirty dancers, but this year, I had no choice but to make it thirty-five because there was way too much talent to choose from. Several of my vets who were on the Stars team last season had proven they were ready to come over to the Starlets , and there was so much new talent that had tried out and gone straight to the Starlets . So , as hard a decision as it was, I felt like I’d made the right choice, and because those boys and girls were determined to have one hell of a season, I knew they would be just fine. They just needed to remain focused.

Practice went on for another hour, and just like every other practice, I had them gather around, and we talked about what we could do better, prayed out, and that was that. Once all the girls left, I went into the baby’s room to watch the Bumble Bees . Their practice started a little later, and they were about to let out within the next five minutes. That team would forever be one that was near and dear to my heart because looking at them took me back to the very beginning when I was their age and my mom had first put me in dance.

Adria was working with them, and when she saw me walk in, she smiled and beckoned with her hand for me to come in. She told me that she would have the girls do it full out one more time before she dismissed them for the day. There were fifteen of them on the team, and seeing their tiny bodies in their little leotards with their dance shoes and their little two buns in their hair really did melt my heart. They were all standing in formation, and my eyes went on little Star , who had one hell of a performance on tryout day. Her mom knew exactly the blessings that she was speaking over that little girl when she decided to name her Star because that’s exactly what she was. She was the one who Brooklyn swore would sit me down in a dance battle.

Adria cued the music, and it was a gospel piece that I’d given to the Bumble Bees this year. They were dancing to Kirk Franklin’s “My Life is In Your Hands . It was a beautiful number that Adria and I had come up with together. A bunch of different tricks was in it, so they could show off their talent, but overall, I made sure the dancing matched the song. Once they were done, I had to give them a standing ovation because they’d just killed that routine. They were only given it a week ago, and they had performed so well. Their little faces lit up at my reaction, and they all ran over, finding somewhere to hug me. They loved on me, warming my heart as I reached down and held onto as many of them as I could.

“I’m going to need y’all to teach the Starlets something because they were slacking today,” I boasted, and their little butts were ready to run to the door and shut it down in front of the Starlets . They might have been small, but they were full of fire, and that was one of the many things I loved about them.

I stayed in their practice as Adria spoke to them, giving them a job well done today. Then they prayed, grabbed up their things, and headed out.

“I want to be just like you when I grow up,” Star told me as she was the last one out. I was holding the door open for the babies, and each of them wrapped their little arms around me for a hug as they left.

“You’re already on your way to doing that. You were made to be a star, and that’s why your mommy named you that,” I let her know as I touched her little nose and watched her whole face light up.

“Just don’t ever close down this studio. I love coming to dance practice. I love you, Coach ,” her little raspy voice said.

“I love you too, Star . I’ll see you next week, okay?” I said, really just kind of rushing her off because her words tugged at my heart.

Those babies adored me so much, and I was hiding a sickness from them because I knew how much they loved me and how much it would hurt them when I was no longer there. That’s why even with the pain I was in, I still showed up for the practices, needing to give them all the memories I could.

7:05 P.M.

“I don’t like the way Pete lined this up. What the hell was he looking at when he did this?” I fussed, standing in front of my son with Dionte not too far away as I looked at the lineup that he’d just walked back into the house with about two minutes ago.

The job Pete had done to his head looked like it was rushed. The whole thing wasn’t crooked, but right in the middle, he seemed to have lost control of the razor and just did whatever the hell he wanted. Usually , I didn’t have any problems out of Pete . He’d been my son’s barber for well over four years. At the most, I had to deal with his ass being late getting to the shop, and I would get on his ass about that, but I never had to worry about him doing a bad job on my son’s head.

“Ma , chill out with that. I’m already mad at the way he messed me up and you not making it any better,” he shot.

I could look into my son’s eyes and tell that he was pissed about the poor job that was done to his lineup. He took his lineups just as seriously as his father took his waves.

“Give Mr . Man your razor, so he can fix the lineup. Dionte , how you let my son walk out of the barber with this crooked ass lineup?” I asked, still cuffing my son’s chin, but my eyes had shifted to his daddy.

“Man , I was seconds away from beating that nigga’s ass up in there. Ion know why you take my son to that bougie ass barber in the first place. I keep telling you that you need to take him to the hood. They’ll get him right over there. Oh , and I already told him that I could straighten it up for him, but he talking about Ima fuck it up even more. I’m nice with the clippers. Ask your mama, boy,” he stated, trying to be funny with that big ass smirk on his face.

I reached over and hit him, then pushed him out of the way because I knew what he was referring to. Back when I was pregnant with Dakari , Dionte had used his razor to shave me a couple of times because my belly had gotten so big that I couldn’t see my own damn vagina anymore.

“Kari , let your dad fix it just a little. He’s not going to mess it up,” I encouraged him.

I could tell that it wasn’t what Dakari wanted to do, but he still led the way upstairs, having his dad follow him. While they went upstairs, I went outside, where the photographer was taking pictures of the black Rolls Royce that Mr . Man had rented for the night to chauffeur our son to the dance. Mr . Man and I both had Rolls Royces of our own, but neither of them was black, and our spoiled ass son specified that the car had to be black to match the all-black that he was wearing for the night. If it were up to me, I would have had my car wash guy come over, wash my car really well, and probably even give it a wax, and that would have been the car he went to the dance in, but his daddy spoiled the hell out of him. I had a perfectly fine white Rolls Royce in my driveway, but he turned it down because it wasn’t black.

I let the photographer know that Dakari would be down soon, and then I went back inside the house.

“Ma , come upstairs,” Dakari yelled up to me about fifteen minutes later.

Before going up, I let the photographer know to come on up, so he could capture moments of my son getting ready. When I made it to his room, he was standing there in his black Armani slacks, and the dress shirt was undone, exposing the wife beater that he had on underneath. His father had fixed the crooked lineup, and he looked 100% better, proving that he would forever be daddy of the year.

With a smile on my face, I let Kari know how much better it looked. His dad was sitting on the bed, looking proud of himself. I’d washed, treated, blow-dried, clipped his ends, and put his hair in two French braids late last night, and the lineup had him looking so handsome.

Once his shirt was buttoned up, I grabbed his silver Cuban link chain, which was filled with VVS diamonds that his father had gotten him last year for Christmas . I had to stand on my tiptoes to snap it around his neck since he was so tall. After I had that on, I grabbed two of his silver VVS diamond Cuban bracelets and snapped them on his left wrist. Then , I stepped back a little, so he could put his shoes on.

The second he had the whole outfit together, tears started falling, and I was using my hands to wipe my eyes.

“Dang , Ma , don’t start that. I already knew you was going to carry on like this,” he fussed.

I laughed through my tears and rolled my eyes at him. I just couldn’t believe my baby boy was off to his eighth grade dance, and next year, he would be in high school. It literally felt like I’d just brought him into this world.

As I was having my little moment, I heard the front door open. I grabbed my phone out of my back pocket and looked at the cameras, just to make sure it was my parents because I knew they were coming but were going to be a little late. It was my dad’s best friend’s birthday, and they were coming right over after his dinner to witness their grandson go off to his dance. I smiled when I saw that they’d brought my grandma with them.

“Hold on, y’all. He’s about to come down,” I yelled, stepping out of the room to stand by the stairs.

Dakari went over to his dresser and pulled out his favorite Tom Ford scent that his father had introduced him to years ago, sprayed it a couple of times, and then he was ready to go.

I walked down the stairs and stood at the bottom, ready to record him walking out. I thought it was so adorable to stand next to my parents and even my grandma, who’d pulled out her iPhone, ready to record her great-grandson as he made his way down the stairs.

Dakari came down smiling big as I snapped a bunch of pictures along with videos of him. He was his father’s child because he had that cockiness to his walk, and he wasn’t afraid to show off that award-winning smile as everyone snapped pictures of him.

Everyone made their way outside, but before I walked out there, I wrapped my arms around my grandma, who I called Bubbie . She’d just fussed me out two days ago, telling me I didn’t come over to check on her as much as I used to in the past. My body had been more tired than usual these days, and when I did get a little energy, I was working.

“You know I’ve been praying for you, right?” she asked.

“I know, Bubbie . You probably pray harder for me than anyone else. I pray for you too,” I let her know and kissed her on her forehead.

She looked at me like there was so much more that she wanted to say, but she dropped it. The fact that she would even look at me with so much worry in her eyes let me know that either my parents had told her about my sickness or my son had told her because I knew they were really close.

I grabbed her small hand in mine and walked outside with her. I’d hired a whole photographer to come over and snap pictures of Dakari on his big night, yet there I was, just like everyone else, with my phone in my hands, snapping pictures of my beautiful baby boy.

“Come here, Ma . Get in one with me. I already took some with dad,” Dakari called out.

I was nowhere near camera ready in just some jeans, a black graphic tee, some sandals on my feet, and my hair pulled back into a bun. For my son, I would do anything, so I walked over, wrapped my arm around his waist as his arm went over my shoulder, and we both smiled proudly. I took a lot of pictures with him, and then the photographer had Mr . Man come over, and we took some family pictures together. Once that ended, Dakari took pictures with his grandparents and his great-grandmother.

“Alright , Mr . Man , y’all need to be leaving now. Don’t the prom start at eight?” my mom asked.

“Grandma , we don’t get there on time. You supposed to show up late,” Dakari stated, and she just shook her head.

They didn’t end up leaving for another thirty minutes. Mr . Man opened the back door, so Dakari could get in the car, and then he closed it behind him. My parents and my grandma were standing a little further back, so it was just the two of us next to the car.

“What you about to do while he’s gone?” he asked me.

He stood there looking pretty good, but I couldn’t really say that I was shocked because I was used to him looking good. He had on a light blue Dior collared shirt and a pair of denim jeans that fit him nicely. The jeans weren’t too tight, but they weren’t too loose either. They hung off his waist just a bit, and he had on fresh white Dior sneakers. His silver VVS chain was tucked in, but it was still clear that he was wearing one. Although he stood a good distance away, I could still smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne that my nostrils were loving and having a field day with. His waves were nice and healthy looking, and his beard was well-groomed and growing by the day.

He didn’t even look like a forty-year-old man. No lie, if I didn’t know Dionte , I would think he was thirty, and I only said thirty because the facial hair did make him look more mature. Those tattoo sleeves on both of his arms were definitely fan favorites, and I could see why women lusted and went crazy over him because he was aging like fine wine.

“Nothing . Why ?” I asked.

“Aight , throw some clothes on. Let’s go get something to eat,” he stated, and I laughed.

Dionte and I had kind of just gotten back on good terms after that night in my bedroom when we’d both played the blame game, accusing each other of being responsible for our divorce. Things had been a little rocky between us, but we’d never been the type to hold grudges, so we were back cool and pretended the big blow-up never even happened.

“Throw some clothes on? What’s wrong with what I got on?” I asked.

“Nothing is wrong with what you got on, but I know you like to get all done up when you go out. You going to be ready in another hour? Just dinner, and I’ll drop your annoying ass right back off,” he said.

I laughed and pushed him. “I’ll be ready. Just dinner. Be careful with my baby in the back seat of that car, Dionte . Don’t be speeding either,” I threatened.

“Man , that ain’t no baby. That’s a grown ass man,” he shot as he walked over to his side of the car, ready to open the door.

I stood back and watched them with love in my eyes. My son rolled down his window, gave me a few air kisses, and let me know how much he loved me.

After that, they took off down the street, and I couldn’t see them any longer. Now , all that was left for me to do was to go in the house, shower, and get ready for this dinner that I was going to with Mr . Man . I had no doubt that our pictures would be sent to the blogs and posted, then everyone would think the two of us were back together.