I love dancing, but I hate ballet class. It's a pain in the ass.
I look over at Sammy. "Remind me why I do this class again?"
She snickers at me. "Because you want to stay flexible, and this class will help you with that."
I groan, I can't wait for this class to end. I want to work on our group dance again. We still haven't received word back from the competition to confirm whether we're competing next week on Saturday or Sunday. I shift uncomfortably in second position, trying to ignore the ache in my legs.
Ms. Bennett claps her hands. "Xamira, shoulders down."
I sigh and adjust, but then out of the corner of my eye, I see Sammy grinning at me from the mirror. I mouth traitor at her, and she just smirks.
When class finally ends, I bolt out of there. Sammy trails behind me. "You know, you complain every week, yet you still come." I glare at her, and she just laughs.
We walk inside the dressing room, avoiding the other dancers stretching, chatting, and swapping dance shoes for sneakers. My legs are killing me, and all I want to do is collapse. I put on a pair of joggers over my leotard and check my phone.
The best dance crew in Atlanta
Mrs Alison
Our call time is Sunday, 3:00 PM. We're the last ones.
I turn to Sammy and shake her shoulder, "We're dancing Sunday!" I shove my phone in her face.
"You're fucking lying," She groans. "I don't want to get up that early on a Sunday."
I roll my eyes. "You literally just said I complain every week, and now look at you."
"I complain with style," flipping her hair like we're in a shampoo commercial.
I laugh, but the nerves start creeping in again. "We're closing the show, Sammy."
She freezes. "Wait, what?"
I nod and hold the phone closer so she can reread the message.
Her eyes dart over the screen. "Oh my god. They're putting us last?" We both just sit there for a second. "Alright. No more slacking. We finish the routine today. I swear if Jackson tries to freestyle at the competition again."
I groan at the memory, "He will not be in the dance if he tries to pull something like that again."
She snorts. "Good choice." We get into her car and start going to our favorite place to eat after dance, The Corner. Their food is so good."Oh my god, did I tell you what happened last night?"
"No, why?" I tilt my head at her. "What did you do?"
She gives me a shocked expression, "I did not do anything! I tried to help, and he just flipped out on me!" She makes dramatic hand gestures.
Wait a minute, "He?" Who was she hanging out with at night?
"I saw Luca at the park, something seemed wrong, so I went to check on him. He told me what happened, and when I told him that it wasn't okay and he needed to tell an adult." She points at me. "And no, I'm not going to tell you what happened to him. But when I told him to tell someone, he got all pissy at me and walked off."
Well damn, she had an eventful night. "Wow. The one time you're actually nice to a guy."
She laughs. "Oh fuck you!"
We pull into the parking lot at The Corner, and the smell of something fried to perfection hits us before we even open the doors. The Corner is a tiny spot we found one day while looking for a place to eat after class. It's between a nail salon and a pizza place, with murals of Atlanta legends on the walls. Sammy orders her usual, a small fry and a hamburger. I order a chicken wrap and a smoothie. Sammy pays, I grab the buzzer, and we head to our booth.
I fold my arms. "So... Luca."
Sammy groans and takes a sip of her water. "I was just trying to be nice. The dude looked like a fucking mess, and his nose was bleeding."
Did Luca get into a fight? "What? He was bleeding?"
She nods. "Yeah. And his knuckles were bleeding. I think he punched a wall. Or tree."
I raise my brows. "And you're just now telling me this?"
She huffs. "He told me to leave him alone and not to get involved."
"Since when do you listen to anyone?" The girl doesn't even listen to her parents half the time.
She points at me. "First of all, rude. Second of all, he didn't even give me a chance to respond."
"Do you think he fights?"
"Maybe." She glances out the window. She definitely knows. I doubt I'll be able to get it out of her if she hasn't told me yet.
The buzzer goes off, and we go grab our food. Once were sat back down, we dig in. After we finish eating, I speak up. "So, do you like him?"
She nearly chokes on a fry. "What?! No." She looks at me with such a disgusted look.
I smirk. "Uh-huh."
She throws a napkin at me. "I will choke you."
I laugh, but part of me can't stop thinking about what she said. I don't know Luca well; I only see him when he comes to pick up his younger sister from dance class. I never paid much attention to him, never needed to, but now I'm curious.
"You gonna check on him tomorrow?" I ask.
She shrugs. "No. If he apologizes for snapping at me, maybe."
I grin. "You say that, but your 'nosy neighbor' energy is already planning a follow-up."
She narrows her eyes at me. I sip my smoothie and ask the question that's been haunting me all day. "Do you think we're ready?"
She leans back in the booth and stretches. "Honestly? No. I mean, don't get me wrong, once we finish the dance, polish it, keep Jackson from going rogue, we'll be fine. I just don't know if everyone is ready."
"True, and closing the show? That's a lot of pressure."
"Yeah," she says, eyes meeting mine. "But that just means we need to deliver. And we will."
I smile a little. "Okay. Yeah, you're right. We got this!"