let's light up the sky ☆

Chapter 20

"Manikas? No problem. Just go all the way down this hallway, take a left, and you'll be on the right."

I kindly thanked the front desk attendant guiding everyone to their dressing rooms. Mom followed closely behind with my poles. Their braided ribbons swished in the light breeze coming off the A/C in the hall. 

For the last two days, I haven't been able to sleep well because the competition has been weighing on my mind. Last night I had a dream (more like a softcore nightmare) about dropping one of my poles right at the end of an otherwise perfect performance. But it was too late to think about it now. My arms were sore from my hours of last-minute practices yesterday. Now that I mention it, that might have been the source of my anxiety dream... oops.

I hummed the song all the way to the dressing room that I would be sharing with three other girls. I'm still not used to the star treatment of having my name printed on anything at one of these competitions. It's usually either the team name or nothing at all because the dressing room is big enough for everyone. My name was first on the list – "A" – and I traced my finger along the glossy finish of the laminated paper.

"Hey," Mom said, as I could see her pulling out her phone. "Let's get a pic."

I stood up straight and gave my cheesiest smile with my name on the paper in full view. If I didn't have to share it with three others, I would have taken it off the wall and put it up on my awards shelf at home. Speaking of the other girls, I finished reading the rest of the list out of sheer curiosity to know who I was up against.

Anoush Manikas

Arianna Lambton

Josephine Lumbala

Meredith Marchant

My heart dropped into my stomach when I got to the bottom of the list. Meredith Marchant used to be my friend years ago until her mom put her in dance and decided she had no time for friends. I tried everything to keep liking her and even offered to teach her a few tricks because I had already been in it for a year longer than her. 

It seemed like she had fun stabbing me in the back. Her mom sweet-talked our middle school dance teacher, Mr. Tanner, into replacing me with her in the spring recital. We've been on many of the same teams for years and yet we can't seem to get along.

I looked back at Mom with an annoyed expression on my face. "Here we go again."

Mom tutted and tapped my shoulder. "Don't worry. They won't run their mouths in front of me."

I was the first one to get to the room and claim a seat. Mom woke me up at a little before 6 am offering the breakfast that Dad was making in the kitchen. I probably would have passed it over and slept until my 6:30 alarm, had it not been for the smell of maple bacon floating into my room. Armen was given the same offer but he skipped it to sleep. It wasn't like he was the one with a showcase performance at 9:57 this morning.

I pulled my stage outfit out of my bag, taking a moment to run my hands over the sewn-in crystals of the bodice. I had a hard time deciding on a costume for this show. On the one hand, I was feeling crafty and thought about revamping an old color guard uniform. Then again, I spotted this one on Etsy and knew that it had to be mine.

The cream and beige crop top is studded with dozens of tiny crystals and beads. I took off my knee-high lace-up dance shoes to pull up the tulle mini-skirt over the protective biker-style shorts. The top hem of the single-sleeve shawl fit around my neck and balanced the exposure of the rest of the costume. Getting a look at myself in the mirror made me feel like a goddess.

I grabbed the sleeve of the shawl and saw every little wrinkle that had developed since it was folded up in my bag. "This isn't too noticeable, is it?"

To ease my worries, Mom grabbed the sleeve and pressed it tightly between her palms as a quick iron. "You look wonderful, Nousha. Don't worry."