Reheated dinner is just one of the perks of my glamorous ballerina lifestyle. So is not getting to start my homework until 9:30 p.m. Algebra questions, research for my US History essay, re-writing my Biology lab notes, reading a chapter in that English book that I’ve already forgotten the name of. Shoot, did I bring it home? I’m heading back to look for it in my backpack when a folder on the table catches my eye, a post-it with my name stuck on the front. Abandoning the hunt for the book, I flip through the folder until the microwave pings. Mom’s tiny cursive writing on the tab reads Summer Intensives. A quick flip through the folder tells me Mom has all the paperwork filled in and ready to send for the upcoming auditions. Relieved she took care of it, I put it aside and scroll through my phone while I eat, dreaming of the day I might join the ranks of a ballet company like the ones filling my Instagram feed.
Procrastinating starting my homework, I take the file to the living room and plop down next to my mom on the couch. “Thanks,” I say, waving the file in my hand. “What are you watching?” I ask.
“Oh, you’re welcome sweetie. Just catching up on Arrow.” I rest my head on her shoulder, stealing a moment to relax. “How was class? Are you feeling ready for the auditions?”
“Class was good. I’m less sore today so that’s good. Foam rolling last night helped. I broke my pointe shoes in class today, I need to sew the ribbons on my new pair.” My phone buzzes and I glance at it.
Lisa: Guess who got into my room and stole all my highlighters?
Katy: At least your brother doesn’t fart on you for fun.
Lisa: Thank god I only have 1.
Me: Thank god I only have none.
Seeing Katy and Lisa complaining about their siblings reminds me. “Did you talk to Mrs. H?”
“Yes, I got everything sorted out for Lisa and Katy.” Mom pauses the tv, giving me her full attention. “You and Olivia haven’t had a sleepover in ages. What brought this on?”
I shrug. “Her dad and Martha are going out of town.”
“Good for them.”
“It’ll be nice to see Olivia. All I see of her now are her dad’s Facebook posts. She looks just like her mom.”
“You always say that.”
“It’s true. The two of you remind me so much of us when we were your age.” Mom looks wistfully at the photo of the four of us on the mantle. Olivia and I are just toddlers, fated to be best friends because our moms were best friends. At least until Olivia’s mom died. It’s been four years but there is still a hole in our lives where Olivia’s mom used to be. While she’s distracted by her thoughts I peek at my phone, but there aren’t any new messages.
“I was surprised she said she’d come to the audition—ballet isn’t Olivia’s ‘thing’ these days, you know? I don’t think she’s planning to go to a summer intensive at all. I heard her tell Ms. Parker she was going to stay here and have a ‘real summer,’ whatever that means.” I’m pretty sure it means going to the beach with Tyler Stanley and getting a killer tan, but I don’t think my mom wants to know that.
“Well, either way, it will be nice to have her and the other girls over. The house is so much quieter without her around. Do you have homework to do?” She kisses my head before I get up off the couch, her hand reaching for the remote.
“Of course,” I sigh. “It never ends. I better get started,” I say, standing up. “Night Mom, love you.”
“Goodnight sweetheart, don’t stay up too late,” my mom calls as I head upstairs to my room.
I check my group chat with Lisa and Katy before I pull out my math book, hoping for an excuse to put it off for five more minutes.
Katy: Seriously, pity me.
Katy: Also…
A photo from Katy of the disgusting blister on her pinky toe that ripped open in class tonight pops up in the group chat. She doodled neon green slime oozing from the blister and dripping onto her biology textbook.
Me: That’s disgusting.
Sometimes I wonder how Katy even ended up in ballet. Her oldest brother Cole is a sophomore at UCLA on a basketball scholarship. Her twin brothers, Jack and Hunter, are juniors at our school—Jack plays football and something-else-ball, and Hunter runs track. They’re one of those sporty families who watch football on Sundays and have burping contests after dinner. I know, I was there once.
I reply with a gif of a cat vomiting rainbows.
Lisa: Is that how you feel about Katy’s blister or Olivia’s news?
Me: Both?
Katy: Both is valid. I’m sorry she surprised you like that. You ok?
Me: Yes. No. I don’t know. I mean, it’s only a first date, right? It could be nothing.
I’m not okay, but I’m hoping that if I keep pretending I am, eventually it will be true. And they haven’t even gone out yet, maybe it’ll be a disaster. Even though I don’t want to, I text Olivia to ask her about the upcoming competition. She doesn’t respond so I put on some music and pull out my Algebra book, out of excuses. Stupid “normal high school experience” homework that my parents insist is good for me. I don’t care about school, I just want to dance.
Chapter 2 Olivia
Allyson: Uniforms tomorrow?
Megan: Yes. I just checked with Coach
I catch up with the squad group chat as I eat my dinner. Thank god football is season over at least. Juggling Friday night games, pep rallies and practice with my dance schedule this fall had been ridiculous. I laugh to myself as I scroll through the conversation. It drifts from which uniforms we’re supposed to wear tomorrow (long sleeves, thank fuck) to a discussion of which basketball player is the hottest. Allyson
