The Opposite

Chapter 11

PC; weheartit // unknown

Arriving at the spacious dance studio, I wrapped my hand around the antique doorknob, and twisted it open.

"Ah, Ebony, come on in!" Casey called, as she expertly flicked an elastic hair-tie towards my direction. "Since it's our first lesson establishing and rehearsing our dance routine, you've got to pin your hair up." She informed, as I trudged slowly to the grandiose mirror to examine my lifeless reflection.

It seemed as though I was getting less and less sleep each night, and I seemed to end up being completely dead to the world during my classes. I knew I had to communicate with a psychological expert in this subject, though my mother would go berserk if she had discovered my so-called insomnia.

Gathering my straight hair into a simple bun, my ears perked up at the creaking of the door. A flustered Connor entered the studio, as he raked a hand through his messy hair. Maybe he had run out of his hair gel...

"Sorry I'm late. I got caught up with homework." He apologised, staring down at the glossy floorboards. "Not to worry, Connor. We haven't started yet." She added with an understanding grin, as she motioned for us to sit cross-legged on the floor like pre-school children.

"Before we begin, I just hope that you two have gotten to know each other over the past week, since according to your files, you are across-the-road neighbours." She projected with high expectations, as we both nodded in sync.

Switching on her Macbook Air, she said, "I got sent a document, with all the details of the competition night." I caught Connor's eyes illuminate with interest and enthusiasm, as he leaned forward and waited for the information to tumble out of Casey's pursed lips.

"It will commence at seven on a Saturday night. The seventeenth of April to be exact." She started, reading the document displayed on her screen. As the words floated into my mind, I began to slowly comprehend and digest the date. My heart dropped dramatically, as I began to second-guess my decision. I needed to find a way out. I can't dance and perform my best on the seventeenth! 

A hand rested on my bare thigh, radiating heat onto my chilly skin, as he murmured, "Uh, Ebby? Is everything alright? You heard the date, and as if by magic, you froze in place." Nodding my head in order to feign a positive answer, my attention returned to the facts that Casey was informing us on.

"Immediate family members don't need to purchase tickets, though other friends and distant family will be required to order a ticket before the fifteenth." She sighed, obviously losing interest in the amount of depth the Westbrook Dance Competition committees had sent her. "Alright, we're honestly losing precious time, so do you guys have any questions?"

"When will we start to rehearse?" Connor catechised eagerly, jumping up and down recklessly on the wooden flooring.

"Can we change the date?" I blurted out, instantly regretting it and hoping that Casey hadn't heard it.

"Of course not, Ebony. Your mother has already signed the documents, granting you permission to dance on the seventeenth of April. It's not like you have other plans for the next two months..." She trailed off with an eyebrow raised in concern and curiosity. Shit. That soliloquy wasn't meant to reach her ears!

She tapped her foot rhythmically onto the floor, waiting patiently for my explanation to my last question, as I stuttered, "Uh yeah. A-about that... I was just..." "Do you have performance anxiety too?" Connor interjected, as my head falsely oscillated up and down like a see-saw in a playground.

"Okay, enough negativity! Let's begin our warm up stretches at the barre." Casey ordered, her bubbly tone alluding that she was letting go of the strained situation. Brightening the atmosphere by forcing us to do what we love, she positioned us against the barre.