The Punk and the Ballerina

Secret Catharsis

Ari's point of view. August 2005.

I was just trying to give Sebastian a quarter after he lost his. God what a douchebag, that was the last time I tried doing something nice for him. Mali really laid into him, she could be a real bitch sometimes, especially unprovoked.

After school, I had dance class. We were learning a hip-hop routine to "My Prerogative." I was excited for this one, I really liked the lyrics and "don't care" attitude of the song. I wish I could've been more confident like Bobby Brown and not care what anybody thought, live my life my way.

Soon we were going to have auditions for the lyrical routine. My teacher was choreographing a dance like the final scene in Dirty Dancing, lift and all. I had to get this part, it was my favorite movie of all time besides Flashdance. When me and my sisters were kids, we used to try the lift scene but we always failed miserably. Mom quickly put a stop to that, she didn't want me breaking anything before my next recital.

I locked eyes with Andy. We'd been dancing together since we were five. My partner, the one I always auditioned with. He's lifted me so many times, I would trust him to catch me if I jumped out of a burning building. He was going to be the Johnny to my Baby. We lined up with our partners. Andy was about 5'10, shorter than the other boys in class, but he was strong and steady. When we were little kids, I was taller than him, it was funny seeing him tower over me years later.

Our teacher Madame Dubois sat in her chair and watched. Most of us could achieve the lift, while others failed. I was a little nervous, it had been years since I attempted the lift and it was the first time Andy and I had tried it. All I could do was trust my partner.

It was our turn. I jumped off the stage and landed gracefully in Andy's arms. I felt my limbs shaking, my mind yelling to straighten them. In that moment, I felt like I was free, now understanding how Baby felt. This was the closest I would ever feel to flying without wings.

"Very good, Ari and Andy," Madame Dubois said in her usual tone. It was hard to tell if she was happy or unimpressed, her tone rarely changing.

Andy set me down. "You were shaking. Did you think I was going to drop you?"

We walked back towards the other dancers. "I was afraid I wasn't going to land in your arms. I wanted to fly away."

Andy chuckled. "Grow some wings and I'll help you fly."

He always knew just what to say. The results of the auditions were going to be posted the next day, giving me a new thing to be anxious about. I couldn't wait to lie in bed, I was already feeling sore, I was just grateful I didn't have homework that day. I walked into the house and spotted my younger sisters Bianca and Lily watching Degrassi on MTV. They were obsessed with it and I finally gave in and was now hooked on it. Lily was especially obsessed with it, that show was her religion.

"Hey Ari," Bianca said over her shoulder.

"Hey girlies," I threw my backpack to the floor. "Mom and Dad not home yet?"

"Mom is at some modeling conference, Dad I think has office hours," Lily answered, her eyes glued to the television screen.

Lily and Bianca had a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos between them. Now that it was dance season again, I was supposed to watch what I ate, but Doritos were my weakness. Fuck it, Mom wasn't home. I grabbed a handful and crunched on them while I tried to catch up on the lives of the students at Degrassi Community School. We got so engrossed in the teen drama we didn't hear Mom come in.

"Degrassi?" Mom asked, breaking us out of our trance.

"We're waiting to see if Emma has Gonorrhea," Lily said as if the world depended on it.

"Do you even know what that is?" Bianca laughed.

Lily paused, thinking hard about what it was. "Some kind of rash, right?" She knew more than her eleven years. I wanted my baby sister to stay innocent in this darkening society.

Mom shook her head. "We'll talk about that later." Her eyes wandered to me eating Doritos. "Go easy on the chips, it's recital season."

I nodded with my mouth full of chips. I hated when she looked at me like that.

"Mom, I might run for student council this year," Bianca said, trying to deflect the attention off me. She knew how I felt when Mom started pressuring me. Bianca deserved more attention than she got: she made honor roll, she was a hard working cheerleader, and helped ran her class website. But I was the golden child, when I wished to be silver or bronze some days.

"That's wonderful, dear," Mom said with fake interest. "Ari, how was dance class?"

And just like that, the focus was back on me. "We had auditions today. We're recreating the final scene from Dirty Dancing."

Mom's brown eyes lit up. "Oh how exciting! I'm sure you'll get the part."

She was always so sure I would get every part, every solo. Maybe that's why I got them 90% of the time, because Mom held me to such a high standard that failure didn't even seem like an option. Most kids in dance class envied me because I almost always got the best parts. I get it, I would be mad too; but I worked my ass for each solo, practicing each one night and day. Madame Dubois saw my hard work and dedication...and every little mistake. I was a lean, mean, dancing machine that couldn't make a mistake, because she would see it, and so would my mother. Mistakes were meant to be fixed and I fixed every single one of them, I used each one to learn and better myself. Believe me, nobody was a worse critic than me.

After dinner, I laid in bed listening to my blue iPod. Ever since I got one for Christmas, it almost never left my hand. My favorite artists were the Pussycat Dolls and Gwen Stefani, constantly dancing to them in my room. But tonight I was too sore to dance, instead using the night to listen to the lyrics more than the rhythm.

I was nervous for theatre. I had presented an original play to the director and he loved it and wanted to make it the fall production. It was something I wrote during the summer in between dance classes. It was based off my own personal struggles and I was unsure if I wanted the world to know about it.

If I knew how to do anything, it was channeling my emotions into art. I had learn how to do this with dancing, but I was eager to do it with writing and acting, use my words for once instead of my body.

I wanted my voice heard.