Don't Give up on Me

"Andria, are you completely sure that this is what you want to do?" Linda asks quietly as we stand in her office Monday morning, her dark eyes sad as she looked down at me. "You just won best solo in the state and you're going to quit?"

I sigh, but not out of anger or frustration. "Linda, you've been a very good instructor. This team has been one of the best I've ever had the pleasure of dancing with. But, I had an epiphany when we were in San Francisco, and I realized that this lifestyle just isn't for me anymore. I grew up loving dance, and although it has given me so many wonderful oppurtunities and friends, its just not who I am anymore. My heart's not in it, and I don't think I should do something I feel obligated to do because its what I've done for 12 years."

She smiles, whiping a legitimate tear away from her eyes and hugs me in a maternal manner. "We're going to miss you, Andi. You're always welcome in my room, you know that, right? I hope you find your way elsewhere, Andria, good luck to you."

I smile, "Thank you."

"I assume that you're dropping the class as well?" I nod. "I'll contact your academic coordinator and get you a new schedule by the end of third period. You'll most likely have your last periods as free periods, unless you need the credits to pass onto your senior year. Keep in touch, yeah?"

"Of course, Linda. Thank you again."

I say goodbye to my former dance teacher and walk out of the mirrored room, feeling like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. "So, how'd it go?" Charlotte asks eagerly as I walk down the hallway, brushing a piece of hair out of my face.

"There are now only 29 members of the Bomb Squad now," I tell her, making her frown.

"You know, your impulsive decisions worry me sometimes," she sighs. "One day, they're going to get you into a lot of trouble."

"And when that day comes, I'll have the biggest smile on my face."

She shakes her head. "You're mental, Andi."

I laugh. "Tell me something I don't know, Char."

She mutters something under her breath before walking over to her boyfriend, briefly pecking his cheek before sitting beside him. "Guys, she's not on the team anymore."

"What?"

"Are you insane?!"

"Lame."

"Why, hello to you all, too! I missed you guys while I was in Frisco!" I greet them all sarcastically as I sit down. "For fuck's sake, would you let me explain myself before your start attacking me?"

"Fine. Explain why you're leaving us!" Violet exclaims angrily.

So I told them roughly the same speech I gave to Linda, and my father, and just about every other person that had asked why. "Oh, bullshit, you belong just as much as Charlotte and I do."

"To be fair, none of us belong on that team. You both deserve to be on private teams rather than stuck on a shitty public school one. Also, I'm just not into it anymore, ya know? I'm just gonna focus on other things. You can both survive without me on that team," I defend myself quickly.

Violet groans. "I sort of hate you right now."

"Go ahead. It doesn't change my decision."

"Yeah, well, whatever," she huffs, standing and walking towards the building. Matt picks up the bag she left behind and jogs after his girlfriend.

"That could have gone a lot better," I say with a sigh, lying on the cold grass and staring at the gray sky.

"She'll come around soon enough," Charlotte shrugs. "Come on, Bri, we've got to get to class."

After the pair and the rest of the group leaves, I look up at the gray sky and sigh. "So does everyone hate my decision?" I ask aloud to no one in particular.

"Not exactly," Zacky says. "Though it is bumming me out that I can't brag about my girlfriend being on the dance team."

"Oh, so I'm your girlfriend now?"

"Well, I don't even know now. Your tone scares me."

I smirk towards him. "How was your weekend, Baker?"

"Not nearly as exciting as yours was, apparently."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, you won first place in both divisions you competed in, while I sat in my basement and slept, played guitar, ate, and then repeated that process over and over again."

"Isn't that what you usually do?"

"Yeah, but you're usually there for me to annoy for at least one of those things."

"Did you actually miss me this weekend, Zachary?" I ask, although by his body language, I already knew the answer.

"Well, yeah..." he mutters shyly, making me grin. "Only a little though," he recovers quickly, though I knew he was just putting up a front to his true feelings. It was a natural thing, especially in guys.

"A little? That's disappointing," I pout playfully. He tries to put his arm around me, but I move away, out of his reach.

"I was just kidding," he says quietly, reaching for me again. This time, he's able to wrap his arm around my waist, and he pulls me close. I hug his torso and rest my head on his chest.

"You missed me," I tease him with a large smile.

"Shut up."

The bell for class rings in the distance, making the both of us groan. "To be continued?"

He nods before we head over to Mr Green's class. He showed the film version of Oscar Wilde's The Importance of Being Earnest, since we were still studying playwrights and how important their contribution to literature were. Zacky had fallen asleep, as did most of the class, leaving me alone with my thoughts as I stared at the projection of the film.

Was I making the right choice? I know I had acted upon impulse, but I wasn't entirely sure if it was what I really wanted. Plus, it was too late to change my mind, as my schedule was being changed and my uniform turned in. My father and I argued about it when I had gotten home, and he brought up some interesting points. If I had stuck with it, I could have gotten a full ride to any performing arts college and made a name for myself. And while that sounded tempting, I knew I couldn't do it. I hadn't felt happy when I danced in the longest time; my mind just wasn't allowing it. So maybe it was a good thing that I was dropping the dancer persona that most of this school knew me by. I was going to do something I loved rather than something I was good at, but not really into anymore.

Second period flies by, Violet's attitude towards my decision still up as the class went on. Charlotte gave me a sympathetic look as Violet ignored me. I was so happy to escape into my art class by the time third period rolled around, because I couldn't handle the tension anymore.

"Alright, guys, for the next two months, we will be either working on competition pieces, or you'll be working on one and two point perspective. Who's competing?" Mrs Jackson asks. 20 out of the 35 or so students in the class, including me, raises their hands.

"Alright, those who are competing, we need three pieces- a portrait, and two other kinds of original works that cannot be copyrighted; for example, if you draw Pac Man, it cannot be entered into UIL competition. We need original work, not something you print a picture of and redraw, understood? Great. Let me know by the end of class what three pieces you're doing."

She sits behind her desk as she lets the class get to work, many people running around the large room and gathering materials. Meanwhile, I sat at the table I shared with Cara and stared off into space, trying to figure out what to do. I knew I was going to do a self portrait, but my other two pieces, well, I had zero clue. That is, until the pair of ballet slippers on Cara's charm bracelet caught my eye, and I felt the same spark I always did when I got an idea.

Not wasting a single second, I got to work. I got a sketch pencil and a large piece of textured drawing paper and let myself rely on instinct to create the image I had in my head. I heard someone call my name a few times, but I was too engrossed in the task at hand to bother answering. However, whoever it was happened to be very persistant; they dropped a stack of textbooks onto the table, causing my hand to involuntarily jerk across the page, leaving a long stray pencil mark.

I look up to see Mrs Jackson grinning down at me. "15 years later and it still hasn't gotten old," she laughs quietly. "Just wanted to let you know that the class left five minutes ago for lunch. I'd let you stay in here, but-"

"You're needed at the elementary school, got it," I finish quickly, my cheeks flushing slightly in embarassment. "I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be. You know, Andi, I haven't seen someone with a talent and massive amount of potential like yours in a long time. Save for the mark across the page, whatever you're working on already looks marvelous. I know that you dropped out of your dance class today, but I sincerely hope you stick with art," she says, her eyes holding mine steadily. "You're a smart girl, and again, very talented. I'd hate to see that go to waste."

I smile, taken aback by her encouragement. "Um, thank you, Mrs J, I'll keep that in mind."

"Good to hear. Have a good day," she says before walking into her office. I gather my materials quickly and slide my unfinished work into a portfolio before hurrying out the door.

Zacky was leaning outside of the building's exit on the wall, hands shoved in his jacket's pockets as he waited for me to appear. "I have your new schedule," he says, "I was going to give it to you earlier, but you looked busy..."

I walk over and take his hand before we start walking in the windy, bonechilling weather. "Sorry about that. Jackson actually had to get me to leave, I was so intent. I have two free periods now, right?"

"Its fine, babe," he grins. "But yes, you do, which means you should come hang out with me and the guys in Salazar's room."

"What do you guys even do in there? Do I even want to know?"

He laughs. "We play music. We chill out. I mean, Jimmy and Brian skip their classes to come in, but God knows you couldn't care less about that."

I smile. "Well, lets go get something to eat and head over there."

After making a quick trip through a Taco Bell drive-thru and passing around food and drinks to the guys, we all sit around the incredibly large music room and did what we did best: hang out. I watched Jimmy try to pitch one of his insane ideas to the guys, and although he received a lot of skepticism, he still made them all smile, his goal in the end. I sat down at the same piano I had earlier this school year with Jimmy and played a song only his brain would ever come up with, the happiness in his wild blue eyes uplifting. And just when Brian and Jimmy were distracted for a good few minutes, Zacky snuck a short kiss in, once again making me melt at the brief contact of our lips.

I couldn't but remember when I was freaking out about not belonging in San Francisco, at the competition, at Serena's house; and also remembered the push factor that made me quit dance altogether: being with him. Being with our friends. Instead of worrying about the next task in front of me, I was finally carefree. And I couldn't help but feel utterly convinced that this was one of the best decisions I could have made, because I wouldn't trade the time spent with them for anything.