Status: working title
The Color of Roses
Ondrea
There was a serenity in the fifteen minutes before class started that Ondrea lived for. Not that she didn’t love seeing scores of fellow dancers leaping across the bright, beechwood floor and doing port-de-bras in front of the mirror, but something about the way the sound of the wooden boxes in her pointe shoes echoed as she was the only soul doing frappé exercises at the barre made her feel powerful. She turned to face the barre that ran all along the left wall, opposite from the mirror on the right wall- the bottom was about three feet from the ground and the top barre another foot above that. Ondrea brought her right leg into passé then extended it outward so that her ankle rested on the top barre. She reached her slender brown arms up over her head to fifth position and slowly bent at her waist to grab onto her nude colored pointe shoe and to kiss her knee cap, feeling the most delightful stretch in her hamstring. After a count of eight, she straightened back up and shifted herself on her supporting leg so she was, now, facing the mirror but her right leg was still atop the barre. Looking at her form in the mirror, Ondrea could see the bottom of her rib cage stretch the maroon spandex of the leotard she wore as she bent backwards toward her extended leg. There had been a tyrannical instructor from her childhood that nearly broken Ondrea’s back trying to get her into this position.
“Take that Miss Bianca,” she said with a smug grin before releasing herself from the stretch. Just as she was turning back towards the barre to bring her left leg up to passé, the door to the studio room was flung open and in walked one of Ondrea’s best friends, Hayley. She was followed shortly by their good friend, Lara.
“I told you she’d be here already,” Hayley said, tossing her pointe shoes haphazardly to the middle of the floor.
Lara finished sipping from her water bottle before easing down onto the floor. “I don’t really owe you five dollars, do I?”
Hayley laughed a laugh bigger than her little body could possibly handle as she assured Lara the bet was null and void since they didn’t shake on it. Ondrea left the barre to sit on the floor with her friends. They knew why she was always fifteen minutes early to class and why she often stayed fifteen minutes after everyone else had left. Puberty had come for her in a way that made the boys in high school try to pinch her butt or pop her bra straps; instead of the ramrod straight lines and silhouette that most of her classmates had, Ondrea had a slightly curvier shape. Ever since evil Miss Bianca had spent eight long months putting her in the back of the class and passing her over for solos, Ondrea had decided that if she couldn’t have the perfect body, she would at least have the perfect form. As it turned out, an extra few minutes before and after class over the course of a few years had paid off in spades since she’d managed to get into an incredibly prestigious dance program at Bourke College, size-six body and all.
The girls sat in a straddle position to stretch as they chatted about they would like to be paired with for the next performance. Lara was whisper of a girl, all of five feet, two inches, and one hundred pounds soaking wet but also phenomenally talented. As such, she would be the easiest to pair off.
“Just keep your mitts off George,” Hayley said, jabbing the air with her manicured index finger. “He’s the only one in my height class that can lift me like I weigh nothing at all.”
“But you don’t weigh anything at all,” Ondrea said innocently as she patted the side of her head to satisfy an itch without disturbing her bun. “If anyone should be making demands, it’s me since I’m the tallest one in the class.”
Hayley rolled her eyes with a huff. “If you think two inches is enough to brag about… But, really, Anwar wouldn’t ever possibly dream of pairing with anyone but you. Everyone knows he’d go straight for you in a heartbeat.”
It was Ondrea’s turn to roll her eyes while Lara and Hayley laughed themselves silly. As they got themselves under control, the rest of the class began filing in. Hugs and kisses of greetings were done around the room before the girls, clad in an array of colored leotards and skin-tone tights, and the guys, stuffed into black unitards and fitted t-shirts, began their stretches. The couple that taught the class, Mr. and Mrs. Bellamy, sauntered into the room and a few minutes later, the class was paired off and positioned to begin learning the latest choreography.
Anwar, the adorable Indian guy that was hardly an inch taller than Ondrea’s own five feet, seven inches, smiled at her as they stood in first position. She remembered how flawless they’d been over the course of the past few months and smiled back.
“Alright, ladies first,” Mr. Bellamy said, clapping his hands. “And five, six, seven, eight!”
“Take that Miss Bianca,” she said with a smug grin before releasing herself from the stretch. Just as she was turning back towards the barre to bring her left leg up to passé, the door to the studio room was flung open and in walked one of Ondrea’s best friends, Hayley. She was followed shortly by their good friend, Lara.
“I told you she’d be here already,” Hayley said, tossing her pointe shoes haphazardly to the middle of the floor.
Lara finished sipping from her water bottle before easing down onto the floor. “I don’t really owe you five dollars, do I?”
Hayley laughed a laugh bigger than her little body could possibly handle as she assured Lara the bet was null and void since they didn’t shake on it. Ondrea left the barre to sit on the floor with her friends. They knew why she was always fifteen minutes early to class and why she often stayed fifteen minutes after everyone else had left. Puberty had come for her in a way that made the boys in high school try to pinch her butt or pop her bra straps; instead of the ramrod straight lines and silhouette that most of her classmates had, Ondrea had a slightly curvier shape. Ever since evil Miss Bianca had spent eight long months putting her in the back of the class and passing her over for solos, Ondrea had decided that if she couldn’t have the perfect body, she would at least have the perfect form. As it turned out, an extra few minutes before and after class over the course of a few years had paid off in spades since she’d managed to get into an incredibly prestigious dance program at Bourke College, size-six body and all.
The girls sat in a straddle position to stretch as they chatted about they would like to be paired with for the next performance. Lara was whisper of a girl, all of five feet, two inches, and one hundred pounds soaking wet but also phenomenally talented. As such, she would be the easiest to pair off.
“Just keep your mitts off George,” Hayley said, jabbing the air with her manicured index finger. “He’s the only one in my height class that can lift me like I weigh nothing at all.”
“But you don’t weigh anything at all,” Ondrea said innocently as she patted the side of her head to satisfy an itch without disturbing her bun. “If anyone should be making demands, it’s me since I’m the tallest one in the class.”
Hayley rolled her eyes with a huff. “If you think two inches is enough to brag about… But, really, Anwar wouldn’t ever possibly dream of pairing with anyone but you. Everyone knows he’d go straight for you in a heartbeat.”
It was Ondrea’s turn to roll her eyes while Lara and Hayley laughed themselves silly. As they got themselves under control, the rest of the class began filing in. Hugs and kisses of greetings were done around the room before the girls, clad in an array of colored leotards and skin-tone tights, and the guys, stuffed into black unitards and fitted t-shirts, began their stretches. The couple that taught the class, Mr. and Mrs. Bellamy, sauntered into the room and a few minutes later, the class was paired off and positioned to begin learning the latest choreography.
Anwar, the adorable Indian guy that was hardly an inch taller than Ondrea’s own five feet, seven inches, smiled at her as they stood in first position. She remembered how flawless they’d been over the course of the past few months and smiled back.
“Alright, ladies first,” Mr. Bellamy said, clapping his hands. “And five, six, seven, eight!”