Setting the Barre

by Anayo Ordu

“Oh man. I haven’t been on that thing since the first summer I was here with you guys,” Kiara explained.

  “That means now is the perfect time to reintroduce you to your favorite roller coaster. Come on!” Bianca squealed as she grabbed Kiara by the hand.

  Roller coasters were never my thing. Instead of instantly refusing, I kept my quiet and followed the group over to the line. I quietly excused myself and stood to the side.

  “You guys go ahead, I’ll be waiting right here.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of roller coasters,” Armani said as he gazed at me from the corner of his eye.

  “I’m not. I just don’t like to ride the ones I know nothing about. I go to Six Flags all the time back home in Texas. I started visiting when I was six, so those rides are all familiar now.”

  “You’re not going to spend the whole summer being afraid to try new things,” he insisted. “Here. You’ll sit in a car next to me. I promise it’ll be alright.”

  Normally I’d still refuse, but it felt special to know Armani wanted me to experience something new. It felt even better to know he wanted me to do so with him by my side.

  Even though I was excited to sit by him, my stomach was turning flips on the inside. I should’ve gotten a salad instead of that cheeseburger. What if I got sick and threw up on him? Gross and embarrassing.

  “Next group!” the man working the ride said as we reached the front of the line.

  I scooted into the car first, Armani on the outside. A teenaged employee came and shut the metal bar down on top of us, wishing us a fun ride.

  “Oww!!” Bianca yelled from behind us. Was that girl afraid of anything?

  Roller coasters are a pretty good metaphor for my life. I’m terrified to take a chance on something new. Someone convinces me to give it a shot. I (internally) scream, shout, and hyperventilate the whole way up. Then I realize, I’m on the ride and the drop is going to happen, whether I like it or not.

  The first few turns of the ride were bearable. A few light dips here and there, with sharp turns that jerked our bodies from side to side.

  Then came the slow but intense creep to the top for the big drop. I turned my head to the side and looked at Armani, afraid.

  “Just close your eyes maybe?” he suggested.

  At that point, I was so nervous, I had no choice but to do what he said. Before I knew it, we were at the very top of the incline, just before the drop. What gave it away was the long pause in motion, after the car had squeakily inched its way up.

  “Here’s to Jane’s first summer in New York!” Armani yelled as he threw his arms up in the air.

  Before I could look over to see his expression, my ponytail was flying at a speed I had never seen before.

  My stomach felt like it was falling out of my butt. Luckily it was a fast drop, and soon enough we were back to the twists and turns.

  “Was that so bad?” he insisted as he looked at me.

  I shook my head and smiled. He placed his arm around my shoulder as we prepared for the second lap.

  I wasn’t expecting that at all. I think I got butterflies in my stomach.

  Once the ride was over, we hopped out, and readjusted our bodies to gravity.

  “Kiara – It was just as fun as you remembered, right?” Bianca laughed as she looked at Kiara’s numb face.

  ***

  Our last piece of the visit to Coney Island revolved around its most famous attraction – Brighton Beach.

  Kiara had told us to wear swimsuits under our clothes. Although people joked about how disgusting the Hudson and East River were, Brooklyn’s famed beach was trusted to swim in.

  “As much as I love the city, this will never compare to the beaches back home,” Bianca reminded herself.

  Living in Miami her whole life must have been amazing. I can’t imagine living in a place where sun and sand was always in the forecast.

  I took off my street clothes and dipped my toes in the water. Before I knew it, Bianca snuck behind me and pushed me all the way in.

  “Sometimes you have to just throw yourself in,” she said as she winked at me.

  I splashed back at her, and covered myself with a huge dose of water.

  Hanging out in the water was the most relaxed I had been the entire week. Tessa and I jumped over waves, and even gave Leo a quick lesson in floating.

  It’s true that you can’t take dancers anywhere without them putting on a show. Bianca started by doing a perfect C-leap in the sand. The sun was just about to set, making the perfect backdrop.

  “We should take some photos,” Tessa said as she went to grab her iPhone.

  “Here. We’ll do solo shots, and then have someone take a group picture of us.”

  As shy I as am, I usually photographed pretty well whenever it was picture time at my studio back home. It was honestly some of the most fun we’d have every year.

  It was always a small competition to see who could get the most complicated move captured. Dancers move so fast, the camera has to shoot multiple frames in order to catch a leap or jump at its peak height.

  Tessa handed me her phone so she could go first. She tried a few jumps and poses. Her best shot ended up being a tilted leap, arms extended, and hair flying.

  Bianca also had an acrobatic background from her studio in Miami. She balanced on her forearms, as she curved her back and rotated her legs forward, until her toes were nearly touching her nose.

  I was up next. I had thought about what I wanted to go for while Tessa and Bianca were taking their turns.

  I always had a problem with my hair flying all over the place in my photos. Instead of looking for height with a leap, I’d go for something that showed off my flexible legs.

  My go to was an arabesque penché. I stretched for a few seconds to prepare. Extending my arms, I leaned forward as I lifted my back leg straight into the air. I had practiced years, and could now hyperextend past a perfect 180 degree angle. I giggled thinking of all the times when I was younger, doing my splits against the wall to help.

  “Gorgeous!” Kiara seemed to be impressed. “Let’s find someone to take our group photo.”

  We lined up so everyone could be seen. We took a few funny shots: Holding hands and jumping up into the air, posing like we were modeling dancewear, and a sophisticated one with our backs to the camera, necks craned, heads peeking over our shoulders.

  After air drying and watching the sunset, it was finally time to head home. Bianca had told me about the days in New York that seemed to be endless. From the moment you wake up to the moment the sun sets, action and adventure awaits.

  We piled into the empty subway car, big enough to hold all of us Joplin students. I scooted into the inside of a seat, as Armani smiled and sat by my side.

  “Did you have a good day?” he asked me.

  “So good,” I told him and smiled. “I’m exhausted though. This really is the city that never sleeps.”

  Before spitting out another word, I was fast asleep. Next thing I knew, I was waking up, craning my head from resting on Armani’s shoulder.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Large company rehearsal was the best way to end each day of the intensive. It was so fun dancing with about 100 other people in the room, ages ranging from elementary to high school.

  The smaller kids were so adorable. The little girls reminded me so much of myself when I first started dancing. They had a carefree energy about them that I wished I could have back.

  “As you all know, this year’s program performance is based on the classic tale of Cinderella. That being said, we’re keeping our eyes open for our Princess and her Prince Charming.”

  I never had a principal role in any of our performances back home. Maybe a quick solo in the middle of a group piece every now and then. But a full leading role? I don’t think I could handle that much pressure.

  “I’ll be making a shortlist of people I see with potential, and will announce shortly,” Miss Blair stated.

  ***
r />   Things were going well back in the dorms. Considering how worn out I was after a full day’s dance, my little twin bed started to feel like a lush throne meant for a queen.

  The only thing that started to get old was the dining hall menu. I could only eat so many salads and quinoa-vegetable bowls.

  Bianca felt the same. She was used to having lots of flavorful and creative cuisine down in Miami.

  “Let’s skip dinner tonight and go try one of the local restaurants,” she suggested.

  I was down. I hadn’t explored the neighborhood too much, and wanted to get some fresh air.

  “Sounds good. Let me grab my wallet and keys.”

  “Sweet. I’m just going to run and get Armani, and I’ll meet you in the lobby!”

  Before I could object, our door was already shutting behind Bianca. Things were already awkward enough. Did Armani like me, or was he just being nice? I didn’t have any experience in the matter, so it was all confusing to me.

  ***

  The three of us strolled the neighborhood, looking for a place that wasn’t too packed, and most importantly, had an “A” rating from the health department posted on its window.

  Kiara mentioned we had to be really careful when it came to eating out. As much tasty food as the city had to offer, we couldn’t afford to miss a day of intensive from food poisoning.

  “What do you guys like?” Armani asked.

  “I want something spicy,” Bianca replied.

  To be as reserved as I am, food was one thing I was never shy about. Houston has been called the most diverse city in Texas. My parents always let me tag along on their dates, being an only child and all. I have countless memories of spending time dining in Chinatown, eating soul food in the Third Ward, and more.

  “How about Indian?” I suggested.

  Armani pulled out his phone and opened the Yelp app.

  “Perfect. There’s a place just three blocks over.”

  We continued to stroll until we made it to the restaurant. It looked pretty plain from the outside. I wasn’t looking forward to paying New York entrée prices for mediocre food.

  I spoke too soon. The inside of the restaurant was gorgeous. Red drapes and lounge chairs gave the space a luxurious feel. The crystalized patterns covering the walls were beautiful.

  “This makes me want to go home and watch a Bollywood movie,” Bianca smiled as she bounced her shoulders.

  The hostess led us over to a table near the back of the restaurant. There was a small platform close by. Maybe the owner got up there whenever he wanted to socialize with the guests on busy nights.

  I had been disciplined when it came to only drinking water. My taste buds were throbbing. I couldn’t resist when the waitress offered a glass of mango lassi. It’s basically a frothy fruit and yogurt blend, with some spices thrown in for an extra kick.

  “How is your morning group going, Bianca?” I asked her.

  “Pretty good. Miss Laura is definitely more easygoing compared to Miss Blair. She lets us do our thing and have a lot of fun.”

  Bianca preferred a more free-spirited vibe when it came to just about anything. Structure always gave me a sense of comfort, so Miss Blair’s group class was the perfect fit for me.

  “Yeah. These fancy New York conservatories are nothing like the studios back in LA,” Armani added.

  He was right. I spent so much time on YouTube watching hip-hop choreography from the dancers at those studios. Most of them danced in commercials, and even toured with artists like Bruno Mars.

  “Sounds like my type of people,” Bianca added. “I would love to be on a world tour dancing backup for Beyoncé!”

  I knew I liked watching commercial dancers, but never considered it for myself. I was a ballerina at heart. Even when we did hip-hop routines for recitals at home, Ricky mentioned I resembled a swan who got dropped off in a jungle party. Just a little bit out of place.

  “That just gave me an idea,” Bianca shrieked. We have to go take a hip-hop class one night before the summer’s over.”

  I grimaced at the thought of it. I could barely bend my knees and “dance low” like required in hip-hop. Now Bianca wanted me to go to a class with her and Armani so I could embarrass myself?

  “Aren’t the classes pretty expensive up here?” I asked, trying to make a valid excuse.

  “They can be. Remember, we have student IDs from school. That always gets you a discount,” Armani said.

  I changed the subject, hoping both of them would forget about the whole idea.

  “What are y’all getting to eat?” I asked.

  “Y’all Texans are really my favorite,” Bianca giggled at me.

  “Don’t give her a hard time. I think the accent just makes Jane…Jane,” Armani said.

  I knew I didn’t sound as “country” as people from places like Alabama and Mississippi did. I guess I did speak the Texas dialect, though.

  Kiara mentioned it when she first met me on move-in day. She asked me where I was from, and said her suspicions were confirmed when Texas was my answer.

  “You just have a small twang,” she said.

  Armani and Bianca were doing a lot of talking. I was ready to eat, and head back to the dorm so I could pass out.

  The waitress walked back our way.

  “What will you all be having?” she asked.

  “I’ll try the Tandoori Shrimp,” Bianca said.

  I wasn’t surprised she went for something from the sea.

  “Can I please have the Chicken Tikka?” I asked.

  I loved the taste of the ginger and garlic, combined with whatever other spices were used. I learned in Houston that traditional dishes are really open to interpretation. Everyone’s version of a signature classic tastes just a little bit different.

  “Noorjahani Biryani,” Armani simply said. “I might go home smelling like curry, but this plate of food should be worth it,” he joked.

  The waitress grabbed our menus and let us know she’d return soon.

  I was glad to see the lights go down, before Bianca could find any more ways to embarrass me.

  Party brunch (or dinner and a show) has always been a big deal in the city. Kiara had told us a few stories about Drag Brunch, and other meals that turned into full on celebrations.

  A speaker began to blast a joyful Bollywood beat. Two women entered the main dining room, decked out in colorful sheer two pieces. They were adorned with bells and miniature cymbals.

  They were also in great shape. I thought about belly dancing in Bianca and I’s room every night as quick stomach toning exercise.

  They clapped their hands above their heads and smiled, performing a choreographed routine. I had only gotten to see numbers like this while watching So You Think You Can Dance. It was cool to see another type of dance in the real world.

  Bianca lived for this type of thing. There came a section of the routine where the women both went out into the audience, looking for someone to join them on the stage.

  Bianca waved her arms from side to side, using one hand to point at me. I buried my head under my hands, hoping they’d have some sympathy on me. Nope.

  “Come on, you’re a dancer,” Bianca said. “Just improvise for once!”

  Both ladies grabbed our hands and took us to the edge of the stage. Freestyling was never my strength. Thankfully, there was a section of the song where they’d do an eight-count, and give us time to repeat it.

  I was starting to get into it, until I looked down and realized Armani was recording us on his phone.

  Great. Now I was going to be on Snapchat for the entire intensive to see. Oddly enough, this gave me motivation to smile, cheese, and shake like this was the last time I’d dance in my life.

  After jumping from side to side, bouncing our shoulders, and copying some intricate hand motions, Bianca and I’s miniature recital was over.

  The dancers grabbed our hands as they joined us in taking a bow. The other guests in the restaurant applauded, giving us a standin
g ovation.

  ***

  “You guys killed it,” Armani said as we made our way out of the restaurant.

  “That was so much fun. I’m telling you Jane, this is the kind of stuff New York City is made for,” Bianca said as she smiled.

  “Why don’t we take the subway back. It’s kind of breezy to walk the whole twenty minutes.” Armani pointed at our arms, which were both completely exposed.

  We walked to the subway station and slid our MetroCards into the turnstile.

  Kiara had told us that we should never be on the subway alone, especially after dark. New Yorkers were notorious for pulling all kinds of crazy stunts on public transit.

  Living in the city was stressful enough. Between paying sky high rent, getting to your next destination on time, and being expected to sell your entire soul to your job, the life wasn’t for everybody.

  After the automated system announced its arrival, a subway car began to approach the platform. I started to walk into an empty one, until Bianca put her arm out to stop me.

  “Jane, you never go into an empty subway car!” she scolded me.

  I stood with a dazed and confused look on my face.

  “It’s really a safety thing,” Armani said. “The city is not so terrible, because there is usually always someone around as a witness if anything were to happen.”

  I guess that was one way to look at it. I sure never thought of it that way. I was just upset that everywhere we went was always crowded all the time.

  “Plus, the empty subway cars usually always smell.”

  “Let’s not risk it,” Bianca said as she lightly jogged to the next car up.

  This one looked more like your typical New York train. There were moms with their kids, businessmen who finally called it a night, and college couples snuggled up together.

  It was a quick ride, but we just so happened to be on the right train car that night.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, what time is it?” a teenage voice yelled.

  “Showtime!” his crew responded in unison.

  You always see B-boys dance on the trains on TV, but here it was, happening in real life. The oldest of the group had to be 19, the youngest, maybe 6 years old.

  The designated DJ friend held the speaker, hyping his friends up.