Dance or Mathletes?

This is a collaboration with Inara Ranger. I wrote the first part. This whole thing is the first part. I think she’s gonna post the second on her account.She is a good friend and she is so nice! Her story “All Too Innocent” is so well written! Go check her out!

Rrrrrrrrringgggg!

The school bell, the final one for the day, rings. My teacher is scribbling on the board yakking about some weird math equation but of course, no one really pays attention. We all leap out of our old, rusty school chairs and start leaving. I push my way through the crowd and meet up with my best friend, Zaara. She’s waiting for me at our usual hangout spot: the water fountain. The (probably dirty) water spills from the center and splashes out, showing a pretty display. It looks prettier with Zaara standing and smiling next to it. Zaara is no doubt the best friend ever. At first, it may not look like it, but once you really get to know her, you’ll be glad you even talked to her. She is a shy, introverted girl who loves studying. She has soft brown eyes and swishy black hair that stops a little beyond her shoulders. She wears glasses too, but they probably make her look even prettier. The only thing is….she keeps bugging me to tell my parents the secret I’m hiding from them. 

Ever since I was 7, I’ve had this huge of being a dancer. I had the reflexes and moves and I dance really well, or so I was told, so I went up to my parents and told them I wanted to be a dancer. They had gasped and slowly shaked their heads, clucking their tongues the whole time. “Dancing is for pretty, tall, skinny, talented girls. I’m sorry, but you’re none of them. And as your mother, I don’t remember raising you into a girl with sudden huge dreams that are impossible. You should make yourself useful, like being a doctor. Now go clean your room.” My mother had said. And yeah, I was upset. Obviously. But then I turned really mad. This was my life, my dream, so how dare she try to control it? So I followed my dream and….it turned to me lying to my parents saying I was going to mathletes but actually going to dance lessons. Is it my fault? It’s my future, my dream, meaning I have control over it. Period. 

As we walk onto the big street that leads up to our houses, Zaara starts our usual conversation. 

“Lyra, you have to tell your parents. You have to go up to them and sincerely tell them that being a doctor and studying is just not your thing. Although, that future sounds great to me.” Zaara gushes, and I raise my eyebrows at her. “Oh. Sorry. My bad.” She stutters. I roll my eyes. “That idea is so not the kind of thing I would do. You know what I would do? I would stomp up to them, shout in their faces while giving a whole lecture on how I’m living my life, this is my future, and therefore I have control over it. If they want me to become a doctor, why didn't they become doctors themselves? I tell you, my family is weird.” Zaara smiles at the way I always talk too much. She thinks it's cute. But then she sighs. I know it's because I don’t want to open up to my parents. As we walk in silence, I can start to see the row of houses in my neighborhood. “Can you cover for me again today? I got dance lessons.” I look at Zaara pleadingly. “Ok, fine. I’m such a nice friend, I know.” I snort. “Yeah, because were both such dedicated students and we work hard.” I say in a sarcastic tone. “The only thing is, I’m actually smart!” Zaara grins and tells me. I crack up and hug my best friend. 

Inside my house, I tell my parents I’m going to mathletes again. My mom happily smiles at me and says that I’m such an obedient girl. Ha ha. I quickly change in my room to my pale blue leotard and cover it all up with sporty baggy clothes. I run out of the house because I’m about to be late. “Bye! See you at 6!” I shout on the way. 

An hour later

“And for our last exercise today - a freestyle dance with an arabesque used as as an ending. Everyone get away from the barre and come to centre position. We will only have one person do it today though, because we don’t have that much time. Let’s have Lyra today. Lyra? Is that ok with you?” Sasha asks. Sasha is an amazing ballet dancer and instructor. Rumor has it that she mastered cheerleading and ballet at the same time when she was 9. Say what?

“Uh yeah sure, that's fine with me.” I respond. I start with a slightly crouched and slumped position and make it a more graceful wavy move. The music is slow, so I drag myself across the floor. No leaps this time, but I do manage to show off my talent with a triple turn. At the end, I walk slowly to the corner of the floor and do an arabesque. Other students, Sasha, and the pianist clap for me. I blush a little, and sit with my other girl-mates. Not that I know any of them. At the end of the class, Sasha stops me and tells me she wants to have a little chat with me. Uh-oh. Does she know what I’m hiding from my parents? Am I getting on trouble? 

But that isn't what she wants to tell about this time. “Lyra Dixon. Very nice little show today.” She says. “You’ve been selected to enter a dance competition. Other schools and studios will be participating, but since you’re so good, you might actually win.” Sasha smiled at me. Wait. What, really? Me in a dance competition? Sasha goes on. “It’s on Friday at 7 AM. It’s Monday today, so you have 4, 5 days to practice. You better do well.” I’m speechless. “Oh, and another thing. Bring your parents with you.”

Uh-oh.