by Anayo Ordu
There was a pretty even amount of men and women in the room. It was cool to see both genders putting their own spin on the choreography, making it masculine, feminine, or a combination of the two.
I was surprised to be picking up the moves at a steady pace. I looked at what I could see of myself in the mirror, trying to make sure I didn’t look too out of place.
“Ballerina in the back – this is the only time you’ll hear this, but loosen up your shoulders!”
I hoped she could tell I was a ballerina by my bun, and not my awkwardness.
I giggled, slightly embarrassed. Everyone turned around to me and cheered. At least I knew they were laughing with me, and not at me.
Bianca and Armani took ballet, hip-hop, contemporary, and musical theatre at their home studios. The class was a breeze for them.
“You’re doing great,” Armani encouraged me.
“Jane from the block’s coming out before we leave!” Bianca said.
Once we were finished learning the choreography, we ran the combination a few times. I felt better with each take, and somehow managed to forget about Joplin for a few moments. Just when I thought I had survived the night, the instructor came out to the center of the floor.
“Now you know we can’t leave without our groups and filming. We’ll start by splitting you guys up into four groups. After each of you performs, I’ll select around five people to film for my YouTube.”
Performing in the small group would be terrifying enough. At least I knew I wouldn’t be recorded on the internet for the world to see.
Bianca, Armani, and I all got placed in the same group.
“Make some noise for our guests from the Joplin Ballet School!” The room filled with applause.
The support from the crowd made the whole ordeal way less scary. I was glad to see it wasn’t a competition. If only things could be that way in the ballet world.
The forty-five seconds flew by as we performed. I was having much more fun than I expected. I needed a break from leotards and tights.
“Ballerina in the Nike shirt. Can we put you in the video for YouTube?”
“Hell yeah!” Bianca lived for moments like this.
***
Rehearsals with Armani felt less nerve-wrecking and more comfortable with every day that passed. Miss Blair let us know she wanted this to be a great opportunity for the both of us.
“I know you guys are both heading into your senior year,” she said. “I hope this summer’s intensive gives you some positive exposure to the dance community.”
Even though Armani wasn’t sure about continuing dance after graduation, he still made his best effort. I was adjusting to dancing with a partner, and he did all that he could to make the process smooth and easy.
“Jane, I think we should hang out sometime. You know, when there’s not dance involved,” he said.
I wasn’t sure what he meant. We already hung out plenty around the dorms.
“Yeah, I’d love to. Just let me text Bianca and Tessa to see when – “
“Jane, I mean just the two of us.”
Oh. Was he asking me on a date? Maybe he just wanted to say thank you for being a decent partner.
“I don’t know if you’re aware, but I like you a lot. Even though we’ve only been dancing together a little, I think you’re really special.”
My heart sank. Armani was the perfect dancer and person. Of all the guys in the intensive, he was the one who caught my eye from the jump.
Normally, this would be considered extremely unprofessional. Co-workers dating always turns out to be a disaster.
I was willing to take the risk and not follow the rules for once. Besides, we were technically 17-year-olds at summer camp. There was no pay involved, so we couldn’t be called professional dancers.
“Okay. Where should we go?” I asked him.
“It’s going to be a surprise. I’m still thinking about it. I will let you know what all you need to be ready.”
***
As the weeks of the intensive went on, there were some Sundays we just wanted to hang out and chill around the dorms. It was a nice way to meet other kids who were staying in the city for different reasons.
At the ice cream socials, we met kids who were doing science research at different universities. It was also fun to talk to the theatre students. We joked about our worlds collaborating in musical theatre, and stealing roles from one another. Honestly – some basic jazz choreography is a lot easier to pick up than learning how to read music (and sing it in the right key).
Kiara had been our go-to the whole summer. She acted as our chaperone on all of our excursions, and (literally) had an open-door policy. When she was in her room on the end of the third floor, she kept it propped open. Naturally, everyone came to her if they were homesick, stressed, or just wanted to get away from everyone for a bit.
I had never made a point to stop by her “office hours” myself. I was making my way back to our room from the vending machine, when I noticed she was sitting on the edge of her bed.
I’m the type of person who will accidentally make eye contact, then turn my head before the other person notices. Kiara caught me, and wasn’t going to let me run.
“Hey Jane!” she said, looking up from her bowl of ice cream.
I hesitantly stepped into her room and gave her a hug.
“I never see you during the week. How are things going for you? I heard you are the lead in the production. That’s amazing!”
“So much is happening. It’s exciting, but kind of overwhelming,” I told her.
“I know how you feel. I did this program over 10 years ago, but not much has changed.”
“Wow, I didn’t know you danced.”
“I did. I was actually on the same track as you all. My plans were to go to a performing arts school, then start working. I felt like my options were endless – they really were.”
I started to wonder why she was only working as a dorm chaperone.
“There are so many things you can do, especially if you move to the city. I was unsure on whether I wanted to be in a company, dance in musical theatre shows, or travel on a touring production. Two weeks before my trip for college auditions, I broke my ankle.”
She went on to explain how she never fully recovered from the injury. She took classes at a local college with hopes of auditioning for admission in the spring term. Even after healing, her ankle couldn’t support her like she needed it to.
“I love that you guys are so passionate about following your dance dreams. But, you do have to remember that things happen in life. You’re not doubting yourself and your abilities by having a Plan B.”
I felt guilty for judging Armani about making plans in addition to dance. I had never even thought of what I would do if I got injured.
“You can still be in the dance world without being a dancer. Think about all the people who have to run ballet companies, plan and promote productions, handle all the financial aspects.”
“I’m sad it didn’t work out for you,” I told her. “I bet you were so talented.”
“Thanks. I don’t see it as a setback, though. I teach dance in a high school. It’s no conservatory, but I get to spread knowledge on what I love every single day. Plus I get the summers off. That’s how I’m able to come stay with you guys each year. I couldn’t afford every summer in Manhattan, otherwise.”
We both laughed. No matter how much money you had, everyone agreed that living in the city was an expensive decision.
“How is Armani as a partner?”
I felt my stomach sink a little.
“He’s a really great dancer. I’m learning a lot from him. I’ve never danced with a male partner before.”
“I’m glad it’s working out. I’ve walked by the studio. You two seem to have really great chemistry.”
Kiara was the one confidante who didn’t run and shout everyone’s business from the mountains.
“We are actually going on a date,” I said. “He told me
he wanted to spend some time together outside of rehearsal.”
“I’m not surprised,” she said. “He’s very kind and respectful, unlike most of the boys his age.”
“I’m actually terrified,” I admitted to her. “I’ve never really been on a date before.”
“Don’t be. You both like each other’s company, so you’ll have a good time. Just be yourself, and don’t think about it so much.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Unlike Bianca, Tessa was notorious for making plans, and forgetting all about them later. There was more than one occasion when we decided to get dinner or ice cream, and she backed out on us last minute.
We were both shocked when she let us know she was able to score the three tickets to Beyoncé and Jay-Z’s summer tour.
“You’re playing a cruel prank on us,” Bianca said.
“Why would I lie? My dad’s job has connections with the ticket office at The Barclay’s Center. All he had to do was make a few calls.”
“It was that easy?” I asked. My parents certainly didn’t have any co-workers who could get tickets to the most in-demand show of the summer.
“What are your e-mail addresses?”
She pulled out her cell phone and started typing. Just a few minutes later, we both got emails saying we had been transferred mobile tickets to the concert.
We looked at each other and screamed.
“We owe you, big time,” I said.
“It’s fine. Just promise you guys will stop saying I flake every time we make plans!”
She paused for a second, then started to laugh.
***
Luckily, the concert was on a Saturday night. That meant we could sleep in the next morning, not worried about having to get up for class or a group excursion.
This would be my first time ever going to a concert. I was an only child, and wasn’t close with any older cousins who would take me to special events with them.
We agreed to get ready in Bianca and I’s dorm. Tessa didn’t want things to be awkward for her roommate. They didn’t spend too much time together over the summer. She had an agenda of her own, and Tessa fit in much better with our group.
“I still don’t know what I’m wearing,” I admitted as Tessa walked in the door.
“The good thing is it’s not an outdoor show, so the air conditioning will be blasting.”
“No high heels,” Bianca said. “It’s going to be a ton of walking from the subway to the inside of the arena.”
I definitely hadn’t planned on wearing any.
She walked over and thumbed through my hangers.
“Let’s go with this.”
She pulled down a bright blue one-piece romper. I almost forgot I had brought it. The outfit would be easy to dress up with some jewelry and makeup.
“Just make sure you use the bathroom before we head out,” Tessa teased as she stuck her tongue out at me.
I curled my hair, while Bianca and Tessa both straightened theirs. Tessa was the makeup expert, and took the time to do all three of our faces. Somehow we still managed to leave on time.
We walked out of our dorm and made our way to the elevator. Of course, Armani was making his way to his room.
I pretended not to see him. Bianca wasn’t having it.
“Hey Armani!” she said, waving him down.
He turned around and made his way toward us.
“Wow. You guys look great. What’s the occasion?” he asked as he moved his eyes toward me.
“The Beyoncé and Jay-Z concert is tonight. Tessa’s Dad hooked us up,” she said.
“That should be a good show. I hope it’s a good time. I’ll see you later, Jane.”
He closed his bedroom door behind him before the interrogation began.
“What is he talking about,” Tessa asked?
“I might have agreed to hang out with him outside of rehearsal…just the two of us.”
“My girl Jane is going on her first date,” Bianca said as she put her arm around me.
“It’s not a date,” I said, before Tessa interrupted me.
“Yes it is. You spend time with him in rehearsal everyday. You hang out with him in a group. He wants to have you all to himself,” Tessa explained.
“Let’s not worry about that right now,” I told them. We needed to make sure we caught the train before the crowds started flooding in.
***
The streets of New York were always busy, but reached a new level of chaos whenever a special event was happening. We had passed by The Atlantic Avenue/Barclays Center Station on our way to The Brooklyn Museum. On a normal day, people were simply headed to work, or making their way to the Target that sat off the stop.
The subway car filled up more and more with every station we stopped at. Kids, teenagers, and adults were all headed to see hip-hop’s favorite couple.
As bodies packed onto the train car, we were forced to squeeze closer and tighter together. I held my wristlet in front of me where I could see it. Kiara warned us about people having things stolen in the middle of crowds like these.
I suddenly felt something rubbing against the back of my shorts. I moved my body, thinking someone’s hand accidentally brushed beside me while trying to get their balance. The hand brushed on the back of me again.
I turned around to see a guy give me the creepiest smile ever. It took Tessa no more than a few seconds to catch on to what was happening.
“Keep your hands to yourself, or I will gladly pull out my taser and paralyze them for you,” she said in a calm but firm voice.
The guy instantly backed off. He exited out the back door, and walked in-between the moving train until he got to the next car.
“I’m so sorry that happened Jane,” Bianca said empathetically as she rubbed my shoulder.
I wanted to cry. Why were some people so disgusting and careless?
“That pervert will get what’s coming to him,” Tessa said. “One day, it’ll be the wrong woman. She’ll take his hands and break them.”
We all laughed. I tried my best to put the incident beside me, and made it a priority to enjoy the night with my friends.
***
Our seats were better than I expected them to be. We weren’t on the floor of the arena, but the first level. Although they were the most expensive, floor-level seats were actually the worst. Unless you were over six feet, you’d have a hard time seeing the stage. None of us wanted to watch the concert through a jumbotron.
In the seats around us, nearly everybody had a cocktail or beer in hand.
“If only my Dad were here, he could get us drinks, too,” Tessa said.
I wasn’t surprised to find out she was the kind of teenager who was allowed to drink with her parents. They had the mentally that if she was going to break the law, she could only do it under their supervision.
I had never tried alcohol, and had no desire to. I wasn’t even sure that I wanted to drink once I turned twenty-one. It made me so uncomfortable seeing people lose control of their bodies in search of a good time.
“Why don’t we get some snacks instead?” I suggested.
Tessa nodded and agreed to watch the seats. Bianca and I made our way to the concessions stand.
***
When we returned, the lights began to dim, and the crowd began to yell. It was finally showtime.
The first thing we saw was a video montage of The Carters. Pictures from their wedding, labor and delivery, and days at their home flashed above the screen. After it went black, the silhouette of the two of them appeared.
The lights came up, revealing Beyoncé and her perfectly coiled blonde hair. Jay-Z was beside her, and motioned for the crowd to give a round of applause to his drop dead gorgeous wife.
The show was one of the most put together productions I had ever seen. The set design, track list, and costumes were amazing.
We nodded our heads as Jay-Z performed his raps, and went into a complete daze when Beyoncé took the stage solo.
During her upbeat songs, she had an army of twelve dancers behind her. They all looked different. One had red hair, while one was blonde. Another rocked braids, while another sported her natural curly afro.
Needless to say, they all killed the choreography. Their moves were so intricate, hitting every beat to every song.
“Can you imagine being up there?” I asked the girls in disbelief. Maybe there was a world outside of ballet.
As the show came to a close, I grew sad on the inside that it would soon be over. Once the show was done, confetti flew from the ceiling. Beyoncé and Jay-Z said goodbye, as they went behind the curtains and drifted back into their dream world.
***
After what happened on the train earlier, we decided to take a taxicab back to the dorm. It was almost midnight, and Miss Kiara would have lost it if she found out we were on the subway that late.
‘That was the most fun I’ve ever had,” I told Tessa. “Thank you so much.”
“No worries,” she said. “You deserve to relax and have fun every now and then.”
“Can you believe that those two ended up together?” Bianca said. “Talk about a power couple.”
“I know, right. That’s how Jane and Armani are going to look on the night of the final performance,” Tessa teased.
I couldn’t even think of a comeback. Deep inside, that would be a dream come true.
CHAPTER NINE
The day had finally arrived. Armani and I would be exploring the city alone. I had no clue where we were going, or what we would be doing. After telling me he wanted it to be a surprise, I stopped bothering him about it.
He came by our dorm and knocked on the door. Bianca ran to answer before I could and cracked it open.
“Who is it?” she sang into the open space.
“It’s Armani,” he said, catching on to her game.
“What can I do for you?”
“I’m here to take out the beautiful Jane for a lovely afternoon exploring the city,” he responded in his best charming male suitor voice.
“Excellent. You may enter,” she said as she opened the door.
Armani had only told me that I needed to dress comfortably. We would be walking outside in the summer heat.