"Hey Victoria," I say.
"Hey Emma," she says, looking up from her pointe shoes. "How was your quiz?"
I sit down heavily, dropping my bags on the floor. "I'm not sure...I think I got most of it right but I could not remember what one of the Latin endings meant."
Victoria tucks in the end of a ribbon. "I sowwy," she says in a baby voice, but she means it sympathetically. I'm not quite sure how this started but we always say sorry like a two year old would.
"Thanks," I say with a smile. "But it's ok if I didn't get it right--it's just one quiz, right?"
"Yeah, and you have like an A+ in a college Latin class so one B isn't going to kill you." Victoria's a junior, and I'm a sophomore. One of the things about homeschooling is that you hang out with a lot of different ages, whereas in public school most juniors are afraid to be seen with freshman. That doesn't matter when you're homeschooled. You hang out with people you like, not necessarily with people who are your age.
"I guess that's true. Is Ms. Glenda here yet?" I ask, changing the subject as I pull out my toe pads and spacers.
Victoria picks up her second shoe and starts to pull it on. "Yeah, she's upstairs."
"'Kay," I say. I put on my spacers--little gel things that go in between your toes to prevent bunions--then pull my toe pads and tights on over. I grab my pointe shoes out of the mesh bag I keep them in and press my fingers against the platform, which is the part dancers stand on when they are en pointe. It's starting to feel squishy. I groan. "My mom's gonna kill me...it's only been a week and they're dying!"
Victoria nods sympathetically. "Well, it is Nutcracker season," she says. "You're going to go through shoes a lot faster now."
"I know, I know, but they're $75 shoes! I can't get new ones every week!" I pull the shoes on and start tying my ribbons.
Victoria stands up. "I'm going to go get the barre out. See you in there," she says and walks out of the dressing room.
I finish tying my ribbons, then grab my water bottle and follow Victoria into the ballroom to start our semi-private lesson.
*********
"And one, and two, and three, close fifth. And side, and two, and three, close back." Ms. Glenda's voice rings out across the room. Victoria and I are dripping in sweat and breathing hard. My legs are aching as they dégagé and piqué with all my strength. I can feel a drop of sweat following the curve of my eyebrow and know that very shortly it will land in my eye, causing a burning sensation, but I ignore this fact and keep my legs going. The music finishes on a crescendo just in time for me to catch the drop of sweat before it drips into my eye. I flick it off my finger towards Victoria, who flinches even though she can't tell what I flicked at her. I smother a laugh and turn to the music cabinet where Ms. Glenda is finding music for the next combination.
"Okay girls," she says. "Let's do 8-8-4-4-2-2-1-1-1-1." Victoria and I nod and turn and face each other at the barre. I open my eyes really wide at her and she responds the same way. We both stifle our giggles as the preparation starts, then turn serious as we start dancing.
How many people get to do what they love every single day? and how many people get to do it with some of the best friends ever?
