𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙡 - 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙙𝙮 𝙛𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙖𝙧 - discontinued

for a second

|3.5|

"let's go, girls and brady. we need to reblock the number." the flustered dancers shuffle their way across the dressing room floor. brady keeps wringing his hands after every run-through, and it gets to the point where i have to hobble over on my new crutches and grab his wrists.

"stop it. i'm not upset, you know i'm not upset."

"well, i am." he points at my foot. "how long are you going to be out for?"

i shrug. "the paramedic said it was a minor break. three to six weeks."

"THREE TO SIX WEEKS?" abby says incredulously. i stumble a little, then catch my balance.

"yes, abby." my mom says, "i was hoping she could still travel with the team and watch at practices, or help out in the studio or something..." she trails off, looking at me, and then it hits me what she's worried about other than my ankle - this could get me kicked off the team. because what use am i if i'm not competing with them? i hold my breath.

abby notices my expression. "you're not off the team, willow. yet." i breathe a sigh of relief. 

"she'll do anything she can to help, miss abby. she doesn't just want to be dead weight traveling along with the team, right, wills?" i nod vigorously.

"i'll take you up on that. for now, i need you all to work your hardest on this. reblock the number without willow, come on." i watch with devastation as my teammates run through the number that i've worked so hard on. every time they turn my way, i get a few apologetic glances before they leap to the other side of the dressing room. i help savannah with her makeup and do everything i can to be just the slightest bit helpful before i'm escorted to the audience to watch.

they come onstage and they're beautiful and fluid and all have perfect lines, despite not really dancing together. each individual dancer looks beautiful and tries their hardest, but i watch with dismay as the routine becomes sloppier and sloppier and everyone starts being less in tune to the music and each other. especially gianina, who looks stunning but is also dancing like she's the only one there while everyone struggles to keep up with her energy and movements. i wonder if we look like that when i dance with them.

of course we do. it's not like i can change everything or even anything. if i could, grace would still be here. and i wouldn't be sitting in the audience with a throbbing ankle.

abby looks disappointed as they walk offstage, and i can't help but feel a little bit happy at that. when i was with them, she always clapped over her head.

no, willow, i scold myself. be happy for your teammates. have faith in them.

i see a camera aimed at me, so i'm sure to grin and clap so that nobody will think that i'm disappointed. i try to predict the pyramid in my head. on top will probably be gianina, since she was so fiery in the group dance. sav will probably be next, then brady, then sarah, then hannah, then... i don't know. but i'll probably be on the bottom unless someone runs off the stage in their solo or something.

i can't help but feel jealous when the trio is up and performs flawlessly. i could've been in that trio next week. i could've been the lead, or had a solo, but that's not going to happen because stupid me had to walk in on stupid brady playing with a stupid lightsaber and he had to grab my stupid ankle and now it's sprained and i can't do a single stupid thing.

i'm not jealous of brady when he goes up, though. he looks strong and his movements are sharp and one flows right into the next and he's doing so amazingly that it's impossible to be annoyed. a look of concentration is on his face, and even though his performance is effortless, i can tell he's straining every muscle to pull this off. i have to smile. his concentrating face almost looks sort of cute, and for a second my cheeks turn pink while looking at him and my heart starts to beat fast before i remember that this is the boy who hit me with a plastic lightsaber and broke my ankle.