Bad For You

one

If I wasn't dancing, I'd probably die.

It's dramatic, but it's true. However at some point it became less about love and more about survival. My mother will never admit it, but she now lives vicariously through me. After becoming pregnant, her own ballet dreams were shattered. So even though she says I'm the best thing that ever happened to her and how she wouldn't change a thing, I have to live with the knowledge I accidentally ruined her life.

So I dance.

I don't even attend a normal school. Nope. Only the best for her petite ballerine. That's why my mother unintentionally-or maybe intentionally-guilt trips me by shelling out hundreds of thousands of dollars every year for me to attend Interlochen Arts Academy: a boarding school for the artistically gifted and talented. No really. Why waste your time at some hum drum public school when you could be surrounded by other like rich-minded, cultural creatives?

Sometimes I try to imagine my life without dance, but every time I do my throat closes up and it feels like I can't breathe. There is no life beyond dance. I've been doing it for so long I wouldn't know who I was without it.

I either dance or I die.

___

"It's so fucking cold, my tits are freezing!"

Hannah pulls her coat tighter around her, teeth chattering as we exit the antique shop. We hurry through the cold to her beat up Honda Civic.

"I thought you'd be used to the weather by now," I joke as she unlocks the car doors and we clamber inside.

"Fuck no. You don't get used to below freezing temperatures. What kind of world do you live in?" Hannah starts the car and immediately turns on the heater, rubbing her hands together as we wait for the engine to warm up. I exhale, the air so frigid I can see my own breath. My stomach grumbles and Hannah's eyes slide over to mine, accusatory.

"When was the last time you ate?"

"This morning."

"And what did you eat?"

"Avocado, eggs, and toast."

"Jesus. That sounds disgusting."

"It was not," I say in defense. "It was good. You're just so used to eating crap food that your taste buds shrivel up at the taste of anything even remotely healthy."

"You've got it all wrong. It's you whose messed up. Seriously, when was the last time you had a fat, juicy cheeseburger?" Hannah shakes her head sadly. "I pity you. I'm just glad I'm not a dancer. It must be hell having to watch your weight like that."

I shrug. "I'm used to it."

It was sad, but true. When I first started dancing my mother had me going on all sorts of crazy diets. There were times where I was quite literally starving. It wasn't until I fainted on stage during a recital and had to be hospitalized that my mother finally hired a nutritionist.

Conclusion? Starving yourself to stay skinny: would not recommend.

Now with Harvey managing my diet, I was finally eating enough to stay healthy and still dance. However, things like burgers or a frothy milkshake were a luxury.

When my stomach grumbles again Hannah puts the car in reverse and starts to pull out of the parking lot. "So why'd you skip lunch?"