Sugar, We're Going Down Swinging

Chapter Three

            With legs and arms that felt like jelly, a throbbing shoulder and a sweaty forehead, I headed outside. I hadn’t bothered with my sweatpants or jacket, just stayed in my shorts and pulled on my boots to walk down the sidewalk to the record store/book store/coffee shop at the other end of the strip mall.

            The warm hush of the store was welcoming to me, a small haven away from the chaos and smog of downtownCharleston. I caught sight of Macy’s long blonde hair, bent over a book in the coffee shop, and I let a gentle smile settle on my face. “Hi, Macy,” I said amiably, trying my best to be friendly despite her friendship with Estella.

            “Hey,Shannon,” Macy replied with a smile. “Sorry it’s so late,” I said quickly, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was almost eight o’clock—Thursdays were my latest as far as classes went. “No, that’s okay,” Macy said, “I kind of admire you for it—I wouldn’t be able to stick around dancing my ass off for that long—not like you can.”

            I laughed and shook my head. “You have to build up to it. I’ve been dancing for thirteen years, and even I still hate spending four hours at a time in the studio. On Saturdays I have seven hours of class—it’s really brutal, but that’s all my competition classes so I guess it’s worth it.”

            Macy looked awestruck, and she quickly shook her head, as if to clear it. “Wow,” she murmured, then looked down to close the book she’d been reading. “Hey, do you want something to go?” she asked, cocking her head towards the menu. “I mean, it’s the least I can do, since you’re taking me home.” I glanced at the menu briefly, though I already knew the answer.

            “I can’t,” I said shaking my head, “Though I’d love to take you up on that offer, I can’t eat any of this stuff. I’m on an extremely strict diet of salad, water, and fruit. Thank you anyways.” Macy raised her eyebrows, “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

            I nodded, smiling weakly, “That’s an understatement; you ready to go?” Macy nodded and picked up her things, chattering as she followed me to my car. “You can just throw your stuff in the back seat,” I said as I climbed in. A second later, Macy joined me, swinging into the passenger seat and a whirlwind of her extremely long blonde hair.

            “Are you still going to take classes?” I asked as I pulled onto the high way and headed back towards the suburbs. “Yeah,” Macy said, pulling a schedule out of her pocket, “I’m taking ballet on Mondays from 7-8, and Lyrical Combo on Wednesdays from 7:30 to 8:45.”

            “Really?” I asked, grinning widely, “I teach the Monday class with Chris and the Wednesday with Brin!” Macy’s smile mirrored my own, and she bounced in her seat. “That’s great! Now I don’t have to worry about getting a mean teacher!”  I laughed with her, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the song that was playing lowly from my radio. “Hey! I love this song!” She exclaimed, reaching over to turn it up.

            It was “Swing, Swing” by The All-American Rejects. I smiled at Macy, nodding to the beat. “Yeah,” I agreed, “The All-American Rejects were pretty kick-ass back then. All their new stuff kinda sucks.”

            Macy nodded sympathetically, “I know what you mean. My brother was thirteen when their first album came out—he was obsessed with them. I grew up listening to their music blaring through my bedroom walls.”

            I laughed with her, then flicked my blinker and pulled off the highway intoFollyBeach. “Where do you live?” I asked at the bottom of ramp. “Tyson Oaks,” Macy said, “It’s off of—”