DOE

D A N C E

I burst through the front door. The receptionist looks up and sneers. I don't think she likes me.

"Slow down there. Dance Night's the first door in the second hallway."

She points to her right. I run in that direction. The first door has a label on it saying Dance Night. I hastily push open the door hesitantly. About 15 girls in skimpy leotards and tights turn around to look at me. Among them I see you. Your eyes are red. Your short hair is tied in a messy bun. You're wearing a pink leotard and black yoga pants much like the one I'm wearing right now. Every single girl has their heads turned to me. They're staring, probably because of the bright purple hair spilling down my shoulders. One girl is glaring at me angrily.

The Dance Night Instructor comes up to me. She's a perky woman in her late-twenties, with frizzy brown hair and irregular teeth.

"Hey! You must be Jasmine. Our new Dance Girl. Welcome to the team!"

I smile nervously, setting down the dark blue duffel bag I found in Jasmine's closet. It had had -- horrors of horrors -- a bald mannequin head stuck haphazardly on the top. However, I had managed to wrench it off before I came here.

The instructor smiled. "I'm Yolanda. I think you'll enjoy it here. We're gonna start with a little salsa, then cha-cha, and end with some break-dance. Please get into position...between Grasse and Mae."

I do that. I go stand between you and the girl who'd frowned at me earlier. She sneers, then averts her eyes. I look at you.

"Hi, Mae. I'm Sp--Jasmine. We've met before. Remember Sri Lanka?"

You turn to me. "Jasmine? Is that you? Hey! Uh, nice to meet you again. You moved here?"

"Yeah. Um... Mae..."

Yolanda claps. "Mae...Jasmine...no talking until after the class, 'kay? Let's get back to the task at hand."

Spanish music wafts out of the boom box on the rickety table in the corner of the room.

-------------

I finger my purple hair. You're walking next to me. You look at me and smile.

"D'you wanna get a smoothie?"

"Uh...Yeah. That'd be nice."

You steer me to the left. Smooth Smoothies looms ahead of us. You pull at my hand. Honestly, it makes me a little jealous that you're holding my (Jasmine's) hand, even though you've only talked to Jasmine for three days, back when we were Sri Lanka. There's the jangly charm bracelet you and I made when we were small. There is one football on it for Mae, and one star for Sparrow. I honestly have no idea how the star referred to me in any way. I am not a star. Never was.

You walk into Smooth, and I follow you. You sit down quickly in one chair, gesturing to the other one. I sit down quickly. Purple hair falls into my eyes, and I brush it off. You raise an eyebrow. You zip open your black backpack, and hand me a simple hair-bobble. I take it gratefully, tying my hair in a chignon as quick as I can. You nod approvingly.

I finger the laminated plastic menu. You sigh, pulling at the charm bracelet. I grab the opportunity.

"Mae? Where's your twin, Sparrow?"

"Oh. You didn't hear? Oh, sorry, stupid me. You moved here recently."

"Y-yeahhh...well...what about your sister?"

You clutch the strap of your backpack tightly. A single tear plops onto the pastel pink tabletop.

"She died."

I try to look like I'm surprised, jumping.

"M-Mae, I'm so...so...sorry. Sparrow's...dead?"

"Yeah." You shrug, crying, hard. I rummage in the duffel bag I'd brought along. I'd dumped the entire contents of the quilted tote in, not bothering to check what was in it. In the duffel bag is a small pack of tissues. I hand it to you, and you grab it, cleaning your face.

"Anyway. I'm trying to move on. I think I'm doing a pretty good job so far...I think."

"Well...was Sparrow your only friend?"

"Not exactly...I-I had the girls from the football team and basketball team. I was kinda popular. But I've stopped talking to people. I don't talk to anyone anymore. I can't stand to...I think of her rotted body under the soil...and I start crying. Much like what I'm doing right now."

You observe the menu on the tabletop. "Well. Among all our reminiscing, I think we forgot to order. What do you want?"

"I'm not much of a smoothie kinda girl. I prefer milkshakes."

You look up. "Just like Sparrow."

I pull at my hair. "Y-yeah?"

You smile shakily. "Sorry. I shouldn't bring her up so much."

"That's okay."

You nod for about the billionth time. You call a waiter, who runs over.

"I'll have the Strawberry Banana Vivanno."

I look at the menu again. I'm tempted to order the Chocolate Lava Milkshake, but that was what I (as Sparrow) used to order everytime we went to this place. I think back, trying to figure out what Jasmine likes to drink. I remember the chamomile tea she had been holding at Old Jim's.

I shudder.

"Eh. I'll take the Herbal Delight, please."

You grip the chair with your neatly trimmed fingernails.

"Healthy as always. You were the only six year old I knew who liked Herbal things. 'S probably why you're so thin."

I jump. "You're thin. You're real thin. You're beautiful, Mae."

You look taken aback. "Uh...okay. I guess."

I calm down. The waiter has been watching all this with a bemused expression on his face. He nodded.

"That's...one Stawberry Banana Vivanno," he said with a thick nasal voice, "and one Herbal Delight. 'Kay, ladies. Your drinks'll arrive'n three minutes."

He saunters away, the notepad he used to jot down our orders gripped tightly in his burly hands. There's something familiar about him. I realize it's his voice. It reminds me of...

The Cab Driver.

He used to have that exact same voice.