Recovering

I sat at the lunch table running through a routine in my head and half listening to Trenton tell some ridiculous story about some kid who came into his work the other day. Mostly though, I was worried about my competition this weekend. This was my hardest routine yet and I had only had two days to practice. I had to nail it.

“What about you dancer girl?” Trenton asked shoving me lightly and thus awakening me from my reverie. “You coming over tomorrow for movie night? It’s bound to be the best movie night to come,” he taunted.

“Sorry, I got dance.”

I could visibly see Trenton’s face fall in disappointment. I knew Friday was his birthday. I knew movie night was the alternative to the raging party he wanted to throw. I talked him out of it because if I’m caught at one of those I get kicked out of my studio. now I wasn’t even going.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me Layne. It’s my eighteenth birthday. You’re my best friend. You have to come.”

“Also if you don’t I’m stuck watching guy movies all night,” Harper piped in.

I felt like the worst person in the world. Trenton and I had been friends since we were seven. My family moved across the street from his the summer before third grade. We’ve been best friends ever since. I’ve spent countless summer nights sitting in the middle of the cul de sac across from Trenton talking about nothing and everything all at the same time. He sat at infinite numbers of dance recitals and competitions cheering me on. I’ve watched more baseball games than I can count just for him. I would be nowhere without Trenton. And here I was missing his eighteenth birthday party.

“I might be able to stop by for a bit,” I lied knowing I wouldn’t be there. Unfortunately, Trenton knew me so well he knew I was lieing too.

“I’ll let you out on of it on one condition.”

He didn’t even have to say anything. I knew exactly what he wanted me to do. We’ve been doing this since we were like eight. I muttered “I hate you” as Troy and Harper moved their trays out of the way and I climbed onto the table. I did a dance truffle shuffle style shaking my butt and flapping my arms, all the while yelling. Pretty soon the whole cafeteria was looking at me. Administration had seen this before so thought nothing of it.

“While I have everyones attention I would just like to note that Trenton Woodley is a sexy beast who makes my life complete. He is also single, so have at him ladies,” I yelled. I proceeded to boy and climb off the table.

“I knew I kept you around for something,” Trenton said tousling my hair. He left half of his sandwich in front of me. Trenton was trying not to make a scene, but I knew exactly what he was saying. Trenton never thought I ate enough. Being a teenage boy, he didn’t understand my dancer’s diet. I threw the sandwich and my untouched salad in the trash before heading to class.

The second the final bell rang I rushed out to my car and drove the familiar path to the dance studio I’ve been taking classes at since I was four. My stomach growled at me as I slid out of my Jeep Wrangler. I knew if I didn’t eat something now I wouldn’t have a chance to for another few hours. I found an apple in my purse and quickly ate it as I walked from the farthest parking spot to the studio. Sarah, the front desk lady, waved as I walked by. I continued down the hall to Studio One. Class didn’t actually start for another hour, but being early gave me time to run my solo in piece. Sarah and Miss A didn’t care if was here a bit early. No one else was using the space so why not. I put my burned CD into the CD player in the closet and turned it up as loud as I could without getting in trouble. And then I danced. I didn’t have to think about it. The moves just flowed from my mind into my arms and my legs. Turn after turn, leap then flip. I had been holding the moves inside my head all day, and now they just erupted.

The song ended. I felt good, but not great. It still needed work. I ran through it a few more times. The rest of the girls on the competition team slowly filed in. They warmed up. I ran my solo. Miss A arrived at three on the dot.

Rehearsal proceeded as usual. Group routine. Corrections. Go again. Duet run through. Easy choreography. I could do it in my sleep. Watch the the other two solo routines. Give my constructive criticism. Silently judge their every move. Now it’s my turn. Do my solo again. Spin. Leap. Point those toes. Corrections. Corrections. Corrections. Don’t stop till it’s perfect. Finally, we are dismissed.

I drive home on autopilot, not really seeing any signs or lights. It’s actually a miracle I made it home without crashing. I take a long, hot shower as soon as I get home. I let the steaming water engulf me and take away all the troubles that crowd in my brain. just one more rehearsal until competition. Just one more day to be perfect. I went to bed that night with half of a bowl of oatmeal and a gallon of water in my stomach.