Instead of Me

∆6∆

The auditorium was filled and there was still a line outside the door. I couldn't believe that this many people came to the recital. Yes, usually the room was quite full, but it was never packed. Heath's last article about Annie's talent must've stirred up some curiosity. 

I checked over my camera to make sure it was going to work properly during the performances. I lightly dusted off the lens, and turned off the flash, so not to distract the participants as they danced. My hands shook as I handled the camera, nervous for Annie. With this many people, she was for sure having a panic attack. I could picture the sweat glistening on her neck as she sat, curled in a ball backstage, trying to catch her breath. 

"Excuse me, do you mind if I sit here?" a voice that I recently became familiar with said. I glanced up, pursing my lips. Of course, it was the one and only Heath LaMontagne. He held a little black notebook with a gel pen in his hand. He had a bright orange lanyard around his neck that Mr. Avery gives to Journalism students so they can go to events without having to pay to get in. For instance, all the other students in the auditorium had to pay six dollars to get in, while we got in for free. 

I shook my head reluctantly. "No, that's fine." Suddenly, my phone began to vibrate in my back pocket. Annie's photo lit up my screen. It was one of my favorite pictures of her that I have ever taken, and trust me, I have taken a lot. 

The photo was of her dancing under a streetlamp at three in the morning during a torrential downpour.  One summer night, Annie was sleeping over at my place after one of her recitals. It had been super late and we didn't get back to my place until two thirty because she insisted on staying after the performances to help clean up. We were watching reruns of our favorite television show on the couch whenever the first clap of thunder sounded. Annie had whipped her head around to look out the window as the rain started. She immediately turned back to me, grinning. Take a picture of me, she had said. She ran outside as lightening struck, lighting up the dark sky. I quickly grabbed my camera and ran after her, preparing to get completely soaked. Annie ran out underneath the street lamp across the street from my house and started dancing. I took a few photos, not truly impressed with them. However, the last photograph I snapped of her that night, was possibly the best photo I had ever taken in my entire life. She was in the middle of an arabesque. The light gleamed on her wet cheeks flawlessly. Her eyes were completely lost in the dance, her limbs gracefully executing the position. The rain added a dreamlike effect to the photo. I told her that there was no picture I could take that would be better than that, and we developed it the next day. It was hanging in her locker and in my room, and was downloaded to my phone as her contact picture. 

I pressed the green answer button. "Are you okay?" I asked worriedly, dismissing our little greeting game. 

"Not really, Finny." Her voice was quavering and I could tell she wanted to cry. "There's so many people here." She breathed heavily into the phone. 

I stood up from my seat and gestured to Heath to make sure nobody takes it. "I'm coming backstage. Where are you?" She responded with the dressing room. "I'll be there in two minutes." I glanced back at Heath.

"Was that Anastasia? Is she alright?" His expression was disgustingly concerned. Why did he have to be such a good friggin' guy?

I turned around and ignored his questions. Annie needed me and there was no way I was going to let Heath ruin it. I had been to a million of these things with her before. I knew how to calm her down and he would simply mess it all up. I pushed through the crowds of people, making my way to the backstage entrance. I ignored the bald man in the black tee shirt with biceps twice the size of my head saying that I couldn't go back there. I squeezed behind younger girls all dolled up in their dance costumes as I made my way to the seniors' dressing room. I finally got to the door and noticed through the tiny window that the lights were off and nobody appeared to be inside it. The other seniors must have been waiting behind the curtains to watch the younger girls and boys perform their first routine. I wrenched open the door and flicked one of the light switches on.