Page 68 of Crash into me
I inhale, doing my own form of meditation to ground myself. I’m having to do that a lot, and sometimes my heartrate will pick up and I’ll use my senses to bring myself back to reality. The studio has an aroma of cedar and lavender; Grace always makes sure to have her diffuser going for us.
As we all sit down to stretch, chat, and customize our shoes, I look to our newest addition.
I distinctly remember how welcoming the group was when me and Kate joined. I grab my things and sit down next to Alea, showing her how to break in her Pointe shoes.
“I’ve been practicing at home, learning from YouTube.” She sighs, tossing the shoes onto the floor between her legs. “I wish I would have started when I was young because all of you know what you’re doing.” Her eyes roam the room, watching everyone.
I pull the essentials from my bag. Scissors, elastic, sewing needles … the works. “Here.”
“Thank you so much.” She hands hers to me, and I explain why and how we do each step.
“No problem!” I smile. “So Pointe shoes are like a blank canvas, and we customize them. Everyone’s feet are unique, so in time you’ll know exactly what to do.”
I break my soles, cutting out the things I need to. I slip them on my feet, marking where I’ll want my bands. As I sew them in, I show Alea how. “I prefer thick bands so my heel doesn’t fall out. Just in and out.” I mimic the motion with my needle.
We sit together, customizing until we both feel comfortable.
“Thank you for taking the time to show me.” She looks around at everyone stretching on the bars.
“They’re going to feel like bricks until they mold around your feet,” I warn her.
Her gaze pans around, at everyone dipping and stretching. “I don’t want to hold anyone back with my inexperience.”
She seems so sweet, and worried for no reason. “I joined over the summer with not a lick of ballet in my system before then. Just cheerleading. You’re in good hands, I promise!” I assure her.
Her face lights up. “I was in cheer too! My entire life, actually, but I fucking hated it,” she admits.
We’re going to get along just fine.
“Ladies!” Grace claps, and we all gather around her on the floor. “First practice is all about getting reacquainted and knowing the importance of each other and the absolute need to stretch our limbs.”
We all look between each other, smiling and giggling and ready for the new season of ballet. “Our goal this year is to break away from the norm, to venture out into our true artistic expression.”
Her eyes roam my face.
“Skyler, in the bulletin we know you never check.”
All the girls giggle.
“I didn’t know there was a bulletin,” I admit.
“My point exactly.” Grace laughs.
I look to my best friend, who has a shit eating grin on her face. Kate knows something, but she’s not telling me.
“We’ve secured a spot to perform at the Marquee.” I gasp.
That’s a beautiful venue. I watched The Nutcracker there as a child on a school field trip.
“Wow!” I sing. “What are we performing?” My mind rolls back to the way I felt watching The Nutcracker and how graceful the ladies looked on stage. But we’re rolling into fall, and in Miami it’s actually still hot as hell so it feels like summer. Surely, it’s nothing like The Nutcracker.
Grace replies, “In the bulletin, we decided upon each ballerina making a new, unique production.”
“Oh, interesting.”
She points her finger out. “You’re up first.”
“Me?” I rear back. “That’s too much. I know nothing about making a dance.”