Memoirs of an Outstanding* Teen

Chapter 37: Why In The World

Remember how I didn't even have the co-ordination to catch a ball and stop at the same time in netball? Guess what I decided to do in the second term of Grade 11... Join the modern dancing club! Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking either. And yes, as you might have guessed, it did not end well.

First, I didn't realize two o'clock is a terrible time for learning anything. Two o'clock was the time the class met, and it also just happened to be only 30 minutes after school ends. So, I was required to show up in the school hall, not only mangled by Grade 11 school work but also starving because there was no time to have any lunch.

Surprise listening comprehension test in Grade 9, remember that? Cue the replay! Our instructor, the fashionista of the school and my ex-English teacher, was the kindest and most patient person you could wish for in this job. But in the end, even she was getting frustrated. She would explain a piece of choreography, something very simple, turn around, lean back, and drop down to one knee. And as soon as she finished explaining it, it would be wiped right out of my brain. Just like, one, two, three, four-get it! And what I would end up doing to compensate, is just looking at what the girls next to me were doing and trying to copy them, so all my moves were a second behind, making the entire choreography look off.

"Guys, it's not so difficult. Like this..." Then she would proceed to show it again. "How can you guys forget it so quickly? It's the turn, the lean and on to the knee!" And she would show it one more time. At least she didn't call me out directly. She just subtweeted me in real life.

Now, did I quit after my horrendous first performances? Of course not! Who do you think I am some sort of quitter? (Aaa...no, just a person with a working brain, Nelu). I kept on showing up and messing up. How she didn't chase me out of the class entirely, I don't know. At least, in the end, I made an effort to write down all the moves so I could read them in less hungry times and remember them better.

I got to perform with the group during the culture week. Can you believe it? I still get my, "Did that legit happen?" moment when I think back to it. Somehow, thanks to the patience of my instructor, and a lot of extra practicing back home, I learned the choreography for the hip-hop performance.

I got to stress along with the other girls about getting the correct outfits and making sure the lighting and stage smoke was all on point. I got to stress about whether enough people would come to watch. And on the day of the performance, got to sit with them, listen to them say, "Oh my God, I hope I don't get stage fright!" and actually relate to it.

I got my sisters and my dad to come. Even some of my classmates were there. Richard came up to me with his friends, right before the performance, just to say hi, and you guessed it, cue awkward moment 2.0.

"Hi, Nelu!"

Now, I don't know what was going on in my head. But for some reason, I wouldn't make eye-contact with him when I said hi back. I could see from my bent head that he had extended his fist to me for a fist bump. Did I raise my head then, and give him a proper greeting? No. I continued to look down, and like some painfully shy person, I extended my fist and returned the fist bump without meeting his eyes. Did I at least make eye contact with his friends when I greeted them? Consistency is king, bruh! Of course not.

Now why on the planet would I do that? I don't remember the choreography, I don't remember how I felt on that stage, I don't remember how the crowd cheered. But I clearly remember that awkward greeting. I've replayed that moment multiple times, trying to figure out what would make me act like that.

The only thing I could come up with was, maybe I felt embarrassed to be there because I felt I was a fraud. I did feel out of place in that dance group. There I was, having zero coordination, and trying to dance with people who either had years of dance experience or could at least bust out a couple of decent moves at a party. And I was just the person that would show up at a pool party in jeans and a turtleneck, and go to stare at the stars in the corner while everyone is dancing. I didn't belong there.

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