⎼⎼⎼ 𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖋𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 ➵ 𝑏.𝑓.

023

mikki

"ok," abby said, "today you're going to learn a solo and it's about a girl who has gotten lost and now she's completely, like, dead inside."

wow. that's dark.

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"what's she doing?" joanne asked, settling herself in her seat as she watched mikki being lead through choreography.

"i don't know," maggie shrugged, unconcerned, "she learns a lot of dances in her privates because abby says it helps her pick up choreography quickly."

satisfied, the other moms went back to stoning the costumes for the group dance.

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"two, russian switch leap and four, five, six, turn, seven, keep that leg extended!"

my solo which i was learning was really fun. i tried to keep my face as creepy as i could, but i was so excited inside. this dance was so emotional and exuded pain, but also skill.

"pretty!" abby grinned, holding out her hand. i gave her a high five and left to go get water.

"what did you do in your private?" press asked, grinning as she pushed open the door.

"learnt a really cool dance," i replied in between gulps. "i'll go get changed and then we can go get lunch, yeah?"

my phone buzzed. i checked the contact and a smile spread across my face.

"farrari!"

"hello mikki."

"you sound exhausted."

"i am exhausted."

"why did you call me then?"

"because i felt like it."

"how are you doing?"

"great. the beach is amazing. pittsburgh is too cold. what about you?"

"ok."

"mikki."

"yes?"

"i miss you."

"i don't. it's great here without you!"

"yeah right."

"it's trash. we haven't been winning and abby's sniping at us. and i sort of maybe miss you?"

"haha! yes!"

"shut up farrari. don't let your head inflate."

"yeah, well."

"i feel like you want to tell me something."

"yeah."

"what?"

"i mean, i think- i don't know- but..."

"just spit it out."

"isortofmaybelikethisgirlbutidunnohowtotellherbecausei'mgonnadie."

"ok? i didn't hear anything."

"nevermind."

"i have acro soon, ok? i'll talk later."

"brady?"

"ok. bye."

i switched my phone off. well. brady had a little crush. my stomach felt like it was doing aerial walkovers and attitude turns. and the occasional roundoff back handspring back tuck.

"hello mikaela," miss crane smiled, gesturing to a pink acro mat, "we're working on flexibility today."

i sank down into a right split like everyone else, scowling as i saw berkleigh on the mat next to me. she smirked and gave me a smug little wave. miss crane walked around handing out mats for us to stretch our oversplits. i tried to ignore berkleigh and look straight ahead, focusing on my skill.

i didn't want to admit it, but having that silent competition with berkleigh every single dance class was making me a better dancer. maybe abby was right. competition did make you stronger.

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"lilly, don't get there early!" abby corrected as we ran the dance over and over again. we were in virginia, trying to cram in last minute practice before going on stage. we were all exhausted and press especially was tired. she'd been poked and pricked and stabbed by abby's words about her feet and legs.

"three, four, you need to spot! lilly, slither up that table. bigger! yes. faces!" abby shot critique after critique at us.

"the acting at the end is atrocious," abby shrugged, "you guys need to show the story of your dance through your face. alright, let's move on."

"pressley, get out here. contestant number blank, scissor hands."

i tried not to scream at abby while she yelled at pressley over and over again.

"the back of the knee is not straight! you can feel it. it's bent! every single person here can look in the mirror and say that, but you don't apply the correction," she turned to ashley, "i told you she was a hot mess in the ballet class, and you didn't listen."

"i did, i just didn't want to believe it," ashley protested.

i went and dragged press away.

"i'll tell you what i saw when i walked into the bathroom, was my daughter crying, going like this-" ashley mimed a pulling motion, "-crying my body's my body, there's nothing i can do. i heard you from the time she got here. her feet, her knees, her legs, her ribcage, her elbows, her neck's not long enough, her hair."

"touché," abby shrugged. i hugged press. i could tell she was upset, fiddling with her gloves.

"what do you want me to do? i can't change those things," ashley yelled.

"right. so i have to camouflage them."

"pack your stuff," ashley screamed, "we're going. you're not humiliating my daughter."

gia had her arms around the now crying press too.

"i'm not going!" press sobbed, "i wanna be here!"

"ok, let's go."

"no!"

stacey took over, bringing pressley close to her.

ashley took press' hand and lead her away. another team member. in two weeks.