Crazy Love by Amir Abrams

hello, Kamiyah,” she says, smiling as she waves me in. “I was wondering when I was going to see you. C’mon in and have a seat. So how are your classes going so far?”
    She clicks a few keys on the computer.
    â€œThey’re going good,” I say, taking a seat in front of her. “Calc might be a challenge, but other than that, everything else is a breeze.”
    She smiles. “Well, I’m sure you’re up for the challenge, Kamiyah. You’re one of our brightest and most talented students. I am confident you’ll master your calculus class with no problems, as you’ve done with everything else you set your mind to. So, how’s dance?”
    â€œIt’s going great. I was working at a dance studio over the summer, teaching a beginner’s ballet class. And they’ve asked me to continue on, so I’ll be teaching a class twice a week.”
    She nods approvingly. “Sounds very exciting.”
    â€œIt really is. I really enjoy working with the little kids. They are so adorable. And it reminds me of when I was their age.” Mrs. Saunders rests her elbows up on her desk, clasping her hands, taking in everything I say. No matter what it is, she always shows an interest in everything her students have to share.
    â€œWhat age will you be teaching?”
    â€œThey’re between the ages of three and five,” I say, smiling.
    â€œIt’ll be a great experience for you.”
    I nod, agreeing. “Yes, it will be.”
    â€œHave you started your application process to Juilliard yet?”
    â€œNo, not yet,” I say, shifting in my seat. “I still have a few months before the deadline.” I share with her the essay choices that are a part of the application process. There are three to choose from. The first choice is to describe the most challenging obstacle I’ve had to overcome, discuss its impact, and tell them what I’ve learned from it. My biggest challenge? Hmmm, let’s see . . . oh yeah. Living with a mother who wears a haterade pack on her back! The second choice is about being a missionary for the arts. I have to explain how as an artist I intend to advocate for relevancy of the arts in the twenty-first century. Boooor-rrring! I’m definitely not going to write my essay on that one. Then the last choice is using one of the three words— commitmen t, education , or dedication —as the title of my essay, then writing about what that particular word means to me. I’m committed to my man, and to dance!
    â€œDo you have any idea which one you’ll choose?”
    â€œEither the first, or the last one. I’m still undecided.”
    She smiles. “Meditate and pray on it. The answer will come.”
    I stand up before she goes into one of her long-winded sermons on faith and patience and believing our divine purposes. Blah, blah, blah. . .I love Mrs. Saunders to death, but I am not interested in hearing this right now. “I definitely will,” I say, shifting my handbag from one arm to the other. “I’ll stop back by one day next week to talk more.”
    She stands as well, walking around her desk. “Great. C’mon, I’ll walk out with you.” She shuts her door and walks me out into the hallway. Now I’m standing here tryna figure out which way she’s headed so that I can go in the opposite direction. “Listen, Kamiyah,” she says, touching my arm. “I’ve known you since your freshman year. I’ve watched you evolve into this beautiful young woman, talented and graceful. There are a lot of people who look up to you, who admire you, and who are expecting great things from you. Whatever you do, don’t allow anything or anyone to distract you from your greater purpose. You understand?”
    I nod. “Yes, I think I do.”
    â€œDon’t think. Know.” And with that said, she makes a quick right, making it easy for me to not