"They're here very early." I say, making my way up the stairs behind Lin.
"Not all of them. But I told a few to come a little earlier to meet you."
"You didn't have to do that."
"They were glad to." He leads me into a dressing room with a guy that has curly hair and a freckled face on his phone.
"No way, I'm in a room with John Laurens!" The man looks up and smiles.
"I'm Anthony. Ramos." He shakes my hand. "And Phillip Hamilton."
"Sweet. How's that?"
"Hard. But fun. So you're a smart girl."
"What?" I ask, thrown off guard.
"You got into Walker." He must have seen the logo on my uniform.
"Oh, well-"
"So how do you like it?"
"It's okay. But very competitive."
"So I've heard."
"How do you like performing?" I ask, changing the subject.
"It's hard but I love it. It's a lot of fun."
"I bet it is."
"So, do you know anything about John Laurens or Phillip Hamilton?"
"Actually, I was working on a rough draft of an essay about John Laurens last night."
"Do you have it? Can I read it?" Anthony says.
"It's really messy . I wrote it on the bus."
"Let's see it." I take my bag off and pull out my binder and then the four pages staples together.
"Wow. Long."
"Sorry. I crossed out a lot. You don't have to read it."
"Well, I play him. So I'd like to."
"Alright. Would you mind telling me if I used to many oxymorons for a history essay? I get a little carried away sometimes." He laugh.
"Sure thing."
"Thanks."
"We'll be back." Lin says, taking my hand.
"You must be Scout. I'm Pippa and this is Jazzy."
"Nice to meet you." I say, shaking their hands. "Eliza?" I say, looking at Pippa.
"Yep. And Jazzy is Peggy and Maria." I get to ask them a few questions before Lin brings me to the girls ensemble dressing room.
"I'm not allowed in there." He knocks three times, opens the door, and lightly pushes me in.
"What?"
"Uh, hi?" I say.
"Hi?" A brunette girl says. There are three of them in here.
"I'm- um. Lin just pushed me in here."
"Scout?"
"Yeah."
"I'm Carleigh. He mentioned something about you coming. This is Emmy and that's Betsy.
"Nice to meet you."
"I like your uniform."
"Thanks. What are you doing?"
"Dancing."
"Just dancing? In a dressing room?"
"Reviewing choreography. Every once in a while they have to make a few changes. Or all the time. It depends on the show and how it's doing."
"This show is doing well."
"Yeah. But they thought this might look a little better. We're going to try it in rehearsal. It's not a huge change."
"Could I see it?" She nods and they proceed.
"Wow. That's great."
"Thanks. Our choreographer is a genius."
"I can tell."
"Wanna learn it."
"Wait, really?"
"Yeah. Why not?"
"Um, sure." I put my bag down gently and she takes my hand, leading me next to her in the center of the room.
"So do you know how to count."
"I'm guessing you mean music."
"Yes." I nod.
-
"Thanks for returning her." Lin says to Carleigh as she leads me into his dressing room. "A half hour later." He lifts my chin.
"No eyeliner." He turns my head sideways. "Her hair is the same." He turns my head back to looking at him. "No lipgloss. What did you do to her?"
"We taught her the dance. She takes classes at Broadway dance center sometimes."
"Do you?" He says, surprised. I nod.
"Yeah. It's a lot of fun and definitely worth the babysitting to pay for it." I've danced as long as I can remember and my parents deaths didn't end that.
"You pay for your own classes." He says, surprised. "Do your parents approve?" I probably should have left out the paying part.
"Clearly they can afford some classes if they can afford to send you to such a prestigious school. They really should support you with your dancing." Anthony comments, standing in the doorway. I know he's trying to side with me but I don't need it.
"No, my mom was close friends with a dance teacher who started to teach me for free after my mom died. That covers classes but I really like Broadway dance so I pay for those myself." I try to explain.
"Oh, I'm very sorry for your loss."
"It's okay. I don't want sympathy, I just want to explain that my parents were good people."
"So you live with your father?" I press the palms of my hands together, nervously. I can tell that my voice had been shaking and I was talking quickly.
"No. It's just my brother and me. Well, since we were speaking of dance, I should probably get to class. Thanks so much for everything."
"Wait, Scout." He says, putting his hand on my back. "Calm down. Where's your class? Is it drop-in." I nod. "So you can miss?"
"Well-"
"Hey." He says, bending down and grabbing my wrist. "Stop panicking."
"Sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Just take a deep breath. In." I do as he says. "Out. In. Out. Slightly better?" I nod. "Sit." He leads me to a chair and I flatten my skirt under me to that I can sit. He sits next to me in silence for a few minutes, everyone else in their own dressing rooms, beginning to get ready and stuff. But we just sit in silence. And the first part of me has slipped.
