Page 95 of Tell No Lies

Once we were all in perfect form, she leaned back on the barre, facing us. She stared us down for a few uncomfortable seconds then began tapping out counts. At the beginning of the second eight-count, we began to move as one.

We made it through two full eight-counts before she stopped us. This was going to be a long class.

“Are you girls even trying?”

A couple of the girls dropped their heads, knowing they had messed up. It was too soon into practice to get down. If they gave up now, we would never make it through the full routine, and we would pay for it later.

“I feel like I’m watching the toddlers down the hall.”

Well, that was unnecessarily harsh.

“Move back to the opening formation.”

Without uttering a sound, we backtracked into the positions we had just left.

“If you are all ready to begin, let’s try this again. This will be perfected at the end of this class, or you will all be coming in on your Saturday off.” A few of the girls gasped. My eyes shot up and met Cassie’s. She looked just as shocked as I felt. We would miss the trip if we couldn’t get this together.

“Again. Five-six-seven-eight …”

This time I could feel the girls around me straining to get every move right. We made it more than halfway through the routine before we were stopped.

“Again.”

We hurried back to the starting formation and waited to be counted in.

This pattern continued for over fifty minutes. We were already over the class time, but with no group after ours, Miss Amy felt she could keep us as long as necessary.

“Are you all trying to frustrate me?”

I turned my back to her with my hands on my hips and rolled my eyes. She might have choreographed this, but she wasn’t the one sweating like a beast and repeating the same steps over and over again. We had only made it through the full routine twice, and neither had met her approval.

I looked around at the other girls and saw they looked as tired as I was. Cassie’s curly hair had escaped her bun and was sticking to her face and neck. Despite her petite size, she looked ready to fight our willowy instructor.

Miss Amy stood at the front of the room, shaking her head. “It’s as if you all want to lose. I don’t see one ounce of determination or fight in any of you.”

I could feel the anger rolling off the entire group. This might be an effective method if we were doing an emotional contemporary dance, or maybe hip hop, but she was just throwing us all off. How could she expect us to be poised when we were shaking with rage?

“I will give you all one more chance. We will do it once more through counts, then with the music.”

Finally!

“If you can pull it together through that, I will let you go.”

I took a deep breath and held it as I walked back. Slowly, I released it as I rolled my shoulders, trying to relax. I wanted to encourage the girls, but I knew better than to speak in Miss Amy’s class. We would all be doing wall sits until the studio closed.

The run-through went without mistake, and we reassembled to do it again with the music. If only telepathy would work in this moment.

One more time, ladies! We can do this!

The classical music flowed through the speakers, and Miss Amy counted us in with a glare on her face.

I had to remind myself to breathe because I was so nervous. I just wanted to go home and soak in my tub for the rest of the night, and only three minutes of dancing separated me from that dream.

The music faded out, and I realized we had finished without being interrupted. Either we’d done it well enough, or it had been so bad she was speechless. I glanced around and saw the others anxiously waiting for the verdict.

“That was fine. You may leave.”

She said it completely devoid of emotion, but that was the most encouragement we could expect. We stood silent for a moment before cheers broke out. One girl collapsed to the ground, sobbing. I joined in one gross, sweaty group hug before breaking away. I grabbed my bag and didn’t bother with changing. I had my sights set on getting home, and not even putting on sweats could slow me down.