Attitude

1: To Maxon With Love

The stench of aspiration could be smelt from a mile away. Hundreds and thousands of girls and boys sat on the bleachers waiting for their numbers to be called.

I had missed the boot camp round so I had no idea what style of dancing they were looking for. Not to mention how exhausted I felt from the drive. Having taking my father's old pick up truck and driving from Jerome to Phoenix within a time range was a killer. My body ached from the uncomfortable seat and I was behond hungry since I used out the only money we had for gas.

From the looks of these people, the were all well fed and had no issue with money. I could tell from their expensive looking pants and bags with agency names on them. Hell, even the tie in their hairs looked more expensive than my whole wardrobe. which evidently consists of five big fitting T-Shirts that had once belonged to my dad and two pairs of jean shorts the fit me like plastic bag.

Come to think of it, that's is exactly what I was wearing now. Over washed Jean shorts with a white a T-Shirt that had the slogan "Butt Wiser, the right butts for you". I know, comical. It even had three women's bums pasted in middle.

"Number 11,567, it's your turn" said an old man with a bald head and a mustache that looked like a ballet tu-tu. I watched as a tall blonde girl got up and walked towards the double doors.

She high fives the girl that had went before and gives the remaining groups of us a confidant grin with a wink. Then she was swallowed by the light of the room as the doors closed.

I looked down at the dirty red converse on my feet laced with a white ballet ribbon. I had stolen them from a girl in my math class before she moved to Texas. As for the ribbons, I took them from my mom's old ballet things when my Dad wasn't looking. I've had these shoes since the tenth grade and never have I grown out of them. Even as I grew out everything else, these never got small. They were the only pair of good shoes I owned.

I watched as heads bobbed in and out of the room. Some smiling triumphantly, others crying having been badly insulted. This made me nervous because of the talent these people possessed. Earlier today I watched as they stretched their legs high over their heads without breaking a sweat. I watched as they leaped into the air without effort and spin in circle until I got dizzy.

I can't even walk to the vending machine across the room before loosing my breath, let alone twirl like a top until circles got jealous.

I leaned back on my hands as I watched the bleachers clear out. It seemed to me these girls were disappearing faster every minute. Being here since six this morning without sleep or two days worth of food was really getting to me.

I guessed I was the last number since their was only fifty of us left from the thousands that were here from earlier today.

I stared up at the ceiling as I rubbed my sore bum.

'This was taking forever' I thought. I closed my eyes and started to count sheep as a time passer. Soon enough one sheep turned into ten million stars as the darkness of sleep welcomed me with open arms.

-

"Miss...Miss, are you number 609? Miss, wake up!" said a manly voice. I grunted in displeasure of being woken up. I tired to roll over in my bed but ended up falling hard unto a cold surface.

"Weird, my house has crappy carpet not wood floors." I said softly to myself before opening my eyes.

I gazed at the group of men circled around me with amused expressions on their faces. I rubbed my newly red face with the palm of my head as I began to think.

"Are you number 609?" one of them questioned.

I stared dumbly for three secounds before realization hit me.