TITLE: Learning to Dance
GENRE: YA Contemporary
B as in boy. G as in girl.
F as in friends. A as in always.
D as in death, diva and dancing.
F is for faith. S is for storm.
Hidden heart. Patient pal.
L is for ?
L. That’s my name. I’m not sure if it’s my parent’s idea of a joke or a sincere lack of agreement. They could only agree on the first letter of my name. I have no middle name at all. Think Harry S Truman. He, at least, had three initials. People assume my name is Ella or Elle, short for Angela. Nope. Just L. Short and sweet. Like me, Mom says. Plain, I say, especially with a last name of Smith. If my last name was Emeno I could pin it on warped parental humor, or lack thereof. Or, if I had eleven siblings with names A, B, C, etc. No. I have one older brother named Mac.
Around my eleventh birthday I discovered I could legally change my name. I dug deep into every baby name book in our small town library. Not one of over ten thousand possibilities defined me. I am simply, L.
L as in, according to Webster, several thousand things. Let’s get one thing straight, though. This L is not for love. If you want a reason not to fall in love and be married for a marathon length of time, look at my grandmother. The life went right out of her when Gramps died.
And it’s all my fault.