Don't Give up on Me

"GET UP!" Austin Carlile's voice screams at me, my alarm on my phone loudly echoing throughout my bedroom. It was six forty five am on a Saturday morning, and I was hating life. Linda had moved the dance auditions to this Saturday instead of next, meaning I was ill prepared for the whole thing. I'd barely started this past Monday and now, I was sure I wouldn't even make it past tryouts.

I yawn loudly and drag myself to my bathroom, taking a 20 minute shower to wake myself up and relax at the same time. After I finish, I quickly dry off and blow dry my hair before tying it into a sleek ponytail. Then, I got dressed in a blue tank top and a pair of leggings and grabbed my shoes and bag before rushing downstairs.

"Why are you up so early?" I ask with another yawn as I wander to the fridge, my dad standing at the island with a cup of coffee in his hands. I take out a bottle of a premade Starbucks coffee flavored frappuchino and milk for my oatmeal.

"Couldn't fall back to sleep. Decided why not, you know?" my dad shrugs, sipping his coffee. "I'm going to the hardware store and buying some paint for the house and such. What colors do you want for your rooms?"

I get out my phone and copy and paste the list I'd made the other day into an iMessage and send it to him, his iPhone lighting up soon after. "Well, that's... different."

"I'm tired, Daddy," I whine mid stir of my oatmeal. "No talking."

He chuckles. "Who's taking you to auditions today? Do you need a ride?"

"That girl Charlotte that was here Thursday night," I reply with a hint of a smile. She and I had really hit it off these past few days, and I was stoked that I had made such good friends with her and Violet.

"Good luck, kiddo, I think I'm gonna head out."

"Dad... you're in reindeer pajama pants and your old Longhorns sweatshirt..." I remind him with a raised eyebrow.

He looks down at his clothes and sighs. "Right. Guess not." I laugh as he walks back into his bedroom to change.

After quickly eating my food and practically chugging the Frappuchino drink, Charlotte arrives not much later. I put on my slides and grab my dance bag before climbing into her little blue car.

"Jesus Christ, Linda has us up at the crack of the Devil's arse today," Charlotte mutters as she pulls out of my drive with a yawn. "Auditions usually aren't until ten, but then again, she likes to throw us off."

"When do you think they'll be over?" I ask tentatively.

"Its 7:30 now, if we're lucky, maybe two or three," she shrugs as if it were nothing. I groan.

This was gonna be a long day, I think tiredly.

***********

After twelve laps around the gym, 30 push ups, and two rounds of dancing, the original number of 110 girls had dwindled to a mere 60 in a matter of 90 minutes.

"Here's where it gets hard and tiresome," Charlotte tells me under her breath, right as Linda walks back up to the front of the group, her clipboard in hand, eyes critically scanning the crowd.

"Alright. I have only 30 spots open on my team, and there are now 60 of you. I've asked you all to prepare a freestyle-" she begins, but a groan interrupts her.

"Since when?!" Serena yells from the back. I'd almost forgotten about her. She wasn't her usual, bitchy self today, shocking right?

"Since Wednesday. For a professional dancer, that's plenty of time. If you can't handle that, feel free to leave," Linda answers her harshly, silencing her with a cold stare. "As I was saying, I've asked you to prepare a freestyle, and now, its time to show me what you got. I'll be looking for originality, talent, and lastly, how focused you are."

I try to swallow the large lump that had formed in my throat. This could make or break my entire school year at Huntington Beach High, and I was only just realizing it. I felt my anxiety raise higher than usual, hoping to just sit down and sort myself out.

"I will be calling last names alphabetically, so be prepared. If you don't come within two minutes you're out," she says simply before sending us to the bleachers.

I only relax by a fraction as I sit nervously on the cool metal bench. I felt my hands start to shake, which made me panic slightly. When I was a child, I got panic attacks constantly. They lessened as the years went by, but every once in a while, they would come. And I was praying right now wouldn't be that time.

"You don't look too good," Violet comments from beside me. "You alright?"

I shake my head, hoping to dismiss it. "I'll be fine."

Charlotte scoffs. "You're sweating. We haven't danced for 15 minutes. Whats wrong with my ginger?"

"Anxiety is a bitch," I say honestly after a few deep breaths. They both "Ahh" before giving me sympathetic looks.

"Just try to relax, think of calming things," Charlotte advises.

"Like cute boys. That's distracting and you know... cute boys," Violet grins. I half smile.

"Trying that," I sigh, taking a few more breaths before I stare ahead.

"Remember- cute boys," Violet reminds me, making me roll my eyes.

Linda calls out the first girl down to perform. I zoned out as soon as I heard the beats of some rap song echo throughout the gym. I felt much better now, glad that I didn't embarrass myself.

"Look, Char, someone's on the catwalks," Violet points toward the ceiling, where three figures lazily settle onto the steel walkways.

"I recognize that hair.." Charlotte mutters, narrowing her eyes. "Jimmy's up there. I can't tell with who, though."

I squint, noticing a shock of black hair. "Zacky's up there, too," I point out shyly. I felt nervousness creep back into my stomach, a ball of uncomfortable nerves forming. Jesus, I couldn't have a episode in front of him. He'd think I was some weird basket case and never talk to me again. And although I hadn't known him long, I couldn't handle that.

"And Brian. God, they're idiots!" Charlotte groans. "Linda's going to blow up if she sees them."

"Hold on..." Violet says, reaching for her phone. Seconds later, she holds it up to her ear and waits for it to ring. As it does, she puts it on speaker, though low volume.

"Hello?" Brian answers, looking down at us with a large smirk.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Charlotte quietly asks.

"Waiting to see your audition," he replies simply, the trio laughing together softly.

"From the catwalks?" I ask, dumbfounded.

"Linda wouldn't of let us in otherwise," I hear Zacky reply in the background. I look up and see him wink at me.

"You guys have nothing better with your day?" Violet rolls her eyes at them.

"When you say it like that, you make us sound like creeps," Jimmy says.

"Because you are!" Charlotte says, almost a little too loud.

"I'm gonna die," I say after Violet hangs up. "Right there, on that floor, I'm gonna die."

"Stay calm, its going to be fine," Violet says, putting an arm around me. I pull my knees up to my chest and wait, since Linda had made her way into the C's. Deep breaths, Andi, stay calm.

"Andria Dawson," Linda calls out.

"Fuck," I mutter under my breath, grabbing my phone before rushing down the four rows of bleachers to the stereo, where I hand Linda my phone and plug in the audio adapter.

"Are you ready?" she asks.

I nod quickly before I take my place in the center of the gym, shaking and terrified out of my mind for the first time in years.

*********

This was it. The freestyle auditions were over, and Linda had just finished scoring them. The boys had left after Charlotte and Violet danced, so thankfully, I didn't have to worry about them any longer. I just wanted to know my score.

Linda calls out the names slowly, agonizingly. "Olivia Burkheart, Mallory Crum, Elisa Cerulli..."

"Come on," I urge, my leg tapping anxiously.

"Andria Dawson, Katy Eisenhower, Charlotte Henderson," she calls, making Charlotte and I both sigh in relief. Not much later, she calls out Violet's name, making her, too, happy she made the cut.

"I will see those of you in my dance class on Monday for further information, as for the rest of you, good job today, but you didn't make the cut. You're all free to go!"

Thank fucking God! I think as I practically sprint to the parking lot, my tired legs somehow still carrying me.

"Told you not to worry," Charlotte brags as we climb into the car. "Wanna go get some food to celebrate?"

I nod eagerly, my stomach growling. "Good, because I'm hungry as fuck, and I'm not stopping until we find the perfect place."