The Dancer

Dakota’s hip-hop class was one of her favorite parts of her life. She spent an hour and half on Tuesdays and Thursdays teaching teenagers, and some twenty-something year olds how to dance. On Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays around noon, she taught kids at a local dance studio. Her mother and sister always thought it was volunteer work, but she made sure the dance studios always gave her the check instead of mailing it. She didn’t want her family to know.

She’d taught the kids a dance routine they were going to perform at Miss Kelly’s recital. She was extremely proud of the kids for how willing and quickly they learned the steps. They even had their own flair of how to do the moves which always made her laugh. They were the brightest part of her life, along with the older dancers she taught at nights. She loved working at the club, but teaching those kids to dance was her passion.

Her mother didn’t understand it. Coming from a rich family that disowned her, she thought they should be above everything and everyone. That’s where the major money came in; if her daughters didn’t get it, they weren’t of any use for her. If the check they brought home wasn’t above a grand, the punishments came. She thought dancing for free was a waste of time. That was time that could’ve been spent doing other things.

Dakota said goodbye to her class and cleaned up the studio. She went to her bag and grabbed her CD case, flipping through until she found the CD she was looking for. She pulled out the one in the player and replaced it with the new one. She skipped through the songs until she found the one and she smiled. She moved to the center of the room, brought the remote with her, pulled the front of her shirt over her head so it rested on the back of her neck, and pressed rewind to start the song over again.

She flowed easily with the music, and when she’d made up three new dances, she fixed her shirt, grabbed the CD, and stuffed everything back in her bag. She put everything in its place before shutting off the lights and left the studio.

For a Thursday night, it was considerably busy out on the streets as she made her way down the two blocks to her car. She passed a few people who even cat-whistled at her, and she smiled. She hated the attention most of the time, but it was when she was alone like this, she wished there was someone she could go home to and they would ask her how her class went and be genuinely interested. She wished she had a different profession that let her date. She hadn’t had a boyfriend since early in high school and she couldn’t remember the last time she kissed a boy because she genuinely wanted to.

Sighing, she made her way home. Glancing at the clock, she realized she only had an hour and a half to get ready for work. Normally she was off on Thursdays, but because she was leaving the next day to go to Long Beach, she’d agreed to work. She knew when she got home there was going to be an argument about her dancing which would take another thirty minutes, leaving her with no time at all to get ready for work.

She rolled her eyes and pulled into her driveway, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. She flicked her cigarette into the street and jogged up the steps to unlock her door.

“You’re gonna be late,” was all her mother said.

“No, I’m not!” she called as she jogged up the steps.

“Dakota, I want to talk to you!” she heard from behind her.

She ignored her mother as she dropped her bag into her room and ran into the bathroom, shutting the door. She turned the faucet on and ripped her clothes off, stepping into the water as soon as it was warm.

“You know mom’s gonna kill you one of these days.”

She pulled the curtain back a bit to see Gemma, almost fully dressed sitting on the toilet eating an apple.

“You’re being dramatic,” she replied before closing the curtain again.

“I’m just saying, you keep that shit up and you’re gonna be in some serious trouble.”

“What the fuck is she going to do, Gem? Is she going to kick me out?”

“I don’t know, but I know it won’t be good.”

“Look, I’m doing it for free and I’m working on moves for the club. Why does it matter that much?”

When Gemma didn’t reply, Dakota stuck her head out of the shower to see her sister was gone.

Rolling her eyes, she finished her shower and shut the water off. She dried herself off quickly and started pulling out pieces of clothing. She donned her strapless hot pink bra, her fishnet stockings, a black lacey thong, to which Gemma appeared and asked “Is that all you’re wearing?”

Frustrated, Dakota pulled on a pair of lacey boyshorts and grabbed her grey pinstripe skirt. She shimmied the small skirt up her hips and pulled on her white bandeau before buttoning up her grey vest, pushing her breasts higher. She loved the vest because it showed off her tanned and toned stomach and gave her boobs great support. After that, she pulled on her shoes.

“We’re gonna be late,” Gemma said, appearing back in her doorway.

Dakota looked at the clock and realized it was almost nine thirty and she hadn’t done anything with her hair or makeup. Puffing out a breath, she walked back into the bathroom and doused her hair with gel, mousse and curling spray. She flipped her hair over and dried it before moving to her mirror to work on her makeup. It was now a quarter to ten, and she hurriedly put on some makeup and her glitter before moving to her desk to get her things for the night.

Finally, she was ready at five after ten. She smiled to herself as she descended the stairs where Gemma was waiting for her.

“Bye mom!” they both hollered as they left.

She climbed in the driver’s seat and started the car up before lighting a cigarette and putting the lighter back in the door. The radio came on, blasting “Betrayed” by Avenged Sevenfold, and she heard a disgusted noise from beside her.

“I don’t see why you still listen to this shit.”

“You pushed me to audition for their concert, Gemma. You know they’re my favorite band and you wanted me to audition. You’re being an asshole tonight and it needs to stop.”

“I can’t help it you have shitty taste in music.”

“You’re being a bigger bitch than normal, Gem. What the fuck is your problem?”

“I’m just saying we should be listening to something else.”

“I’m just saying you need some dick,” Dakota said, rolling her eyes.

“Whatever,” Gemma replied, crossing her arms.



The next morning, after she finished packing, Dakota went to the nail salon to get her fingers and toes done before heading to the airport with Gemma. She said goodbye to her sister and went to the gate.

The flight was quick and much to her surprise, so was the wait to get her rental car. She took the keys and walked to the Mercedes that was waiting for. Starting the car, she smiled.

“I’ve got to get me one of these,” she said as she took off.

As soon as she made it to the hotel and took her things upstairs, she made her way down to the gym they offered there and climbed on a treadmill to run for a half an hour.

After she’d showered and gotten dressed, she went out to find someplace to eat dinner and relax. She ordered herself a beer and sat there while guy after guy tried to hit on her. She quirked an eyebrow at each one just before she sent them on their way with their tail tucked between their legs. It was times like these when she remembered why she didn’t need a boyfriend. Men were dogs. She laughed at the irony of her situation and how men said women were gold diggers.

She got back to her hotel around eight and crawled into the bed. She turned the television on but was asleep in minutes. She hadn’t been to bed in over twenty four hours and it was past her bedtime.