Side By Side

11.

After twelve Jake and I moved our conversation from the open windows to hushed tones over the phone. He had fallen asleep mid conversation around four in the morning, so I hung up the phone and pulled the covers over my head, not willing to get up to close my open window, but also not willing to freeze. I was trying to force myself to sleep but my nerves for the coming day kept me awake for a considerable amount of time.

I woke up the next day at 12:30. It was a sunny day in Riverbank, the first since I arrived, and I smiled fondly at the sunshine pouring in through the window, the light breeze tossing my curtains lightly.

That day was going to be long. We were planning on going around to all the thrift stores in town and just outside of town to find things for our Halloween costumes. Lily was like a drill Sargent barking out orders in the shops.

"Halloween is sorta Lily's thing," Lissa explained.

After a half hour of searching I had found a plain brown shirt and skirt that fit okay. I would have to have Nancy hem the skirt a little bit, and I would have to sew black spots on the shirt, but it was a good start. The rest of the group had found most of what they need too, except for Lily.

"There's nothing," she groaned then turned to me, "Addi you wear those pullover, knitted sweater thingys all the time. Happen to have one in orange with a turtleneck?"

"Sorry I don't own anything in the orange or turtleneck variety," I shrugged and she groaned defeatedly.

"It's okay. Lissa has a red skirt I'm sure she'd let you borrow. You could probably find the socks at the dollar store too," I tried. She nodded.

"You're probably right. Let's get out of here before I start to pull my hair out," so we did. We all piled into Lissa's convertible and put the top down despite it only being 5° C. Riverbank was sort of in a constant state of a damp spring and winter all year around, the kids of the town refused to see it this way, and were constantly looking for excuses for summer activities.

I sat in the back sandwiched between Jake and Lily as we all sang loudly and off key to the radio as the wind whipped past us. My signing was more off key and quieter than it could've been due to the internalized anxiety I was having, but it was so loud no one noticed. My hair flew behind me a rippled in the wind and I laughed when it hit Jake in the face.

"Addi, are you ready for you first dance lesson?" Jake asked. Internally, I groaned.

"So ready," I said to him with a smile. I hoped I was convincing, "What's Mrs. Linda like?"

"Well, shes coaches wife, so kinda intense," Jake joked.

"Nothing I haven't delt with before,"

Lissa was starting to speed to get me home in time to get dressed and then make it to the studio. I had fifteen minutes when we did get home.

Changing at lighting speed and putting my hair up even faster gave me ten minutes to walk, instead I ran. It wasn't a long run, five minutes, but it was enough to make me out of breath. I quickly checked my reflection and smoothed out my hair again. It had put it up so tightly my eyes brows were raised slightly, but that was the dress code for my last studio; Plain black bodysuit, white tights underneath, a black wrap skirt, and as Mrs Tracy, my last dance teacher had put it, "hair pulled back so tightly you look bald with a donut balancing on your head,"

I pushed open the heavy door and it opened up to rectangle room that made up the whole building. A quarter of the room was cold tile floor, the rest hardwood. Off to the left was a front desk and to the right was a door to conceivably an office built under a set of stairs. I took off my runners, stuck them into my bag and replaced them with my point shoes.

"Hello?" I called. The sound echoed around the building. Had Jake told me wrong? Were classes another day? I figured that couldn't be the case because the door was open. I rounded the corner and walked up the stairs above the office. At the top was an inclosed landing with cubbies for each of her students in alphabetical order. Mine was first and in the top left corner.

Despite being empty and slightly creepy, stardust studio was your run of the mill studio. Mirrors lined the walls, barres were pushed in the corner and the whole place smell like sweat and rosin. This was comfortable. This was familiar. Maybe the only place in the whole town that felt like that.

With still no teacher in sight I began a few warm up steps, the sound of the wooden piece in my shoes against the hardwood the only faint sound in the building.

"Eh hem," somebody cleared their throat from behind me and I whipped around.

"Miss Blake?" She asked. She was a tall woman, probably taller than Jake, perfect posture, a judgmental expression, and an impeccable bun. This was a dance teacher if I ever saw one.

"Yes. Mrs. Linda?" I asked.

"Yes. You're early, I like that,"

I smiled and nodded, "When does the rest of the class usually show up?"

"You are the class. From what Jake said I don't have another student as advanced as you," she clarified. My stomach dropped. I did not sign up for a one on one class, I didn't even sign up for a class period, but this was not what I had been expecting.

"I'm sure Jake over sold me," I tried.

"We will see by the end of this class," I gulped but stood up straight, "go to a barre for warm up," she directed. The rest of the class was filled with me, and only me, being shouted at to move faster, plié lower, and kick higher, and I did. First classes were always the hardest, classes by yourself were even harder. By the end my ankles were throbbing— especially the left— my arms burned, and my lungs were surly going to explode, but I was still standing. I gave a final bow signalling the end to the class.

"You exceeded my expectations," Mrs. Linda told me.

"Sorry?" I asked, taken aback. It wasn't everyday you got a compliment from a dance teacher.

"Come with me," Mrs Linda had me stand in front of the mirror.

"You're short, you're awfully pale, and your hair is so tight you might rip your forehead in half,"  I nodded a little deflated, "but these are not bad things. You're small, so you'll be a good pas de deux partner— easy to lift. You're makeup and expressions will show well from the stage. And your committed," she put a hand on my shoulder, "You could go somewhere with this," I smiled at her.

"Thank you," I breathed out.

"You're welcome. Take your hair down," she told me. I did but my hair remained slicked back, stuck in place from the copious amount of hairspray I had used, "You don't need all this hair to have a good ballet bun, and you definitely don't need this much hairspray. Go take a hot shower when you get home, ice your left ankle, it's especially bad," she advised, "And I'll see you on Tuesday,"

"Thank you Mrs. Lidia," and I scampered out of the studio.