Yesterday I was in the hall, boxing of course. But I heard a noise, some sort of classic music, so I went to check it out. It was Mrs. Wilkinson and her ballet team. I know it’s only for girls, but I just couldn’t stop myself from dancing. And guess what? She let me! Isn’t that great mom? It was so amazing. If only I could make dad see that a boy doesn’t necessarily has to be gay, just because he’s dancing ballet. I actually don’t even want to box, I just feel like I have to. It’s sort of a family tradition. I don’t want to disappoint dad, but I don’t want to box either. It would be so much easier if you were her, mom. You could explain to dad that dancing is for boys too, and then he would allow me to go to ballet. Every week I get 50 pence to pay for my boxing, but I give them to Mrs. Wilkinson so that I can dance on her team. I’m so scared that dad is going to find out what I’m really using the money on. He would be so angry. I’m tired of living in fear for dad accidently caching me in the middle of a class.
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