So Done

by Paula Chase

  Once in class, she was thankful she had remembered. Everyone was dressed properly, little clones following every direction Noelle uttered. Even the new girl. How’d she already know the rules? Tai hated her on sight.

  She was brown skinned like an almond. Her hair was straight and shiny in a tight, high bun. It sat on top of her head, thick and fat like someone had wrapped the hair around a donut. She was even taller than Bean and just as skinny. A ballerina’s body. Tai swallowed the thought bitterly, for once falling out of love with her own curves and thickity goodness.

  New girl’s round, brown eyes flickered up, watching them all stream in. Tai watched her watching them.

  Their chatter grew as the girls who hadn’t seen Bean welcomed her back. People were really acting like it was a big deal that she’d been gone a minute.

  Mo cawed about her brother being busted coming in late through the window. It didn’t surprise Tai. Lenny was dumb as dirt. Fifteen and still didn’t know how to sneak.

  CoCo asked Bean had she heard about the fire in fourth court. Tai had already told her but Bean listened politely. She clucked a few words of sympathy in the right places, all so she wouldn’t hurt CoCo’s feelings by admitting, “Oh yeah, I heard.” It made Tai mad all over again about Bean’s request to be called by her real name. She just didn’t get it.

  If she wanted everybody else to call her “Mila,” cool. But they were best friends. If anybody should get a pass and be able to call her “Bean” or whatever she wanted, wasn’t it her? She flicked her flip-flop off. It flew across the room. Mo gave the flip-flop and Tai one of her looks. Bean only glanced at it curiously.

  Tai knew it was childish. She didn’t care. She was bored with their conversation. She looked at Chris’s sister on the edge of the group. It was exactly where Tai planned to keep her if she could help it. She waited, patiently, until new girl looked her way. When she did, Tai raised her eyebrow to make sure the new girl knew she was being watched back. The two shiny brown marbles flicked away, looking down at the stretch bands in her hand.

  Exactly, just so you know, Tai thought.

  She looked for a resemblance to the country-cute boy with the curly lashes and half dimples she’d met days before. They didn’t look anything alike. That was disappointing. She had thought they’d be identical. They barely looked related, much less like twins. She wasn’t even all that cute, but Cove dudes would think so just because she was new. Maybe even Rollie.

  Tai stared, fiery jealousy in her chest as the girl followed behind Noelle, with soft, elegant steps, placing the bands where the teacher told her to. Another teacher’s pet.

  Bean was bad enough with her “Mademoiselle this” and “Mademoiselle that” in a quiet voice like she was calling on God. Every time she did it, Tai sucked her teeth and snapped, “You mean Miss Noelle?” but she hadn’t been able to break her out of it. Bean worshipped their teacher.

  She jumped back into the conversation when Sheeda started a story about visiting her cousins on some farm next summer. Nobody wanted to hear nothing about no farm. “So who wanna hear what Rollie texted me the other day?” she asked, cutting Sheeda off.

  The girls immediately quieted down. Every pair of eyes was on her. The attention made her giddy. None of them had boyfriends yet. The race to be the first had been on unofficially since last year. Tai had no worries she’d come out the winner. If Rollie would move a little faster, she’d win before school started.

  She bragged about how Rollie had texted her “what’s up?” She paused in all the right places, leaving areas blank so the girls would believe there was more to his text than it was.

  “Rollie cute but he weird,” Sheeda said. She pulled her Senegalese twists back, not bothering to bun the heavy hair. “He too quiet. It seem like he just sitting back watching what everybody do.”

  Tai rolled her eyes. “It ain’t like he can get a word in when you start yapping, Sheeda.”

  Bean squinted a crinkle-eyed reprimand. She touched Sheeda’s shoulder. “I think he just used to being by his self. It’s just him and his grandmother and mother when he’s home.”

  “I guess,” Sheeda said slowly.

  “Whatever,” Tai said, before Sheeda could blurt out more nonsense. “Once I get with Rollie, y’all can fight over the dudes left. Like Simp.” She raised her eyebrow at Bean. “Lenny.” Then Mo. “And JJ.”

  Mo folded her arms and glared at Tai. “No shade to JJ but how you figure me and Bean supposed to get with each other’s brothers? You didn’t hardly name anybody.”

  “I know, right.” Sheeda scowled in thought. “And it’s plenty other dudes in the Cove. Why you only name those three?”

  “Look, those are the cute and cute-ish ones,” Tai said, sounding like a disappointed teacher.

  Bean’s eyes bucked wide. “You think Simp is cute?”

  It set everybody off laughing.

  “I said cute-ish,” Tai said, her face hot with embarrassment. She threw Bean a look. Whose side was she on?

  “Wow! If Simp ever heard you thought he was cute-ish, that would make his life,” Mo said, cawing.

  “Definitely.” Sheeda patted Tai’s leg gently. “But you know your secret safe with us.”

  Tai raised her voice over their teasing. “Oh my God. I was just trying name dudes, like, our age. It’s not my fault Rollie the best of the bunch.”

  “Who died and made you the matchmaker?” Mo asked with open disgust. She snatched a ballet slipper and snapped it on her foot.

  “Look I don’t care who y’all get with, long as you know Rollie mine,” Tai said.

  “Like, who wouldn’t?” Mo asked. “You been on his tip since fifth grade.” She put on the other ballet slipper, walked off, and took her place in the first row. The other girls followed suit.

  Tai stayed sitting on the floor, taking her time getting her slippers on. She wasn’t about to shadow Mo. Her heart pounded angrily at being left behind. She thought about faking cramps and leaving class. She wasn’t really in the mood anymore, then Noelle clapped her hands twice. “Girls . . . allons.”

  The girls clapped back once. Class had started.

  Tai reluctantly joined the fray, silently throwing darts at Mo’s back.

  Chris’s sister stayed in place, beside Noelle, her eyes wandering just above their heads.

  Bean stood perfectly erect in the center of the front row. Her feet were turned out, in first position, arms at her sides ready to bust into first on demand. Chandra, Shayla, and Monique stood in the same line, waiting.

  Bean and the new girl had the same long torso and legs that seemed to go on forever. “A dancer’s body.” At least that’s what Tai had overheard Noelle tell Bean about her shape once. Tai had almost pointed out that the dancers on videos and TV had thick, strong legs like her, but Noelle had said it low like it was meant only for Bean—Tai didn’t want them to know she was being nosy.

  The four girls in the second row imitated the first row. Their backs weren’t as straight. Their hips not as turned out, but Tai knew they were working hard to get moved up. Once they’d realized the rows were based on skill. They all wanted to be top dog. Tai hated how much she cared.

  Sheeda and CoCo were in her row. She glanced over at them. CoCo was in the right position (mostly) but Sheeda was standing relaxed waiting for Mademoiselle to demand the position. Tai stood up a little straighter, but refused to put her feet and arms in position. It looked crazy doing that before class officially started.

  Noelle waited patiently, hands clasped until everyone was quiet. She was tall and thin and seemed to sprout from the floor like a weed from the ground. Until Noelle, Tai had never seen a Black French person. Even now it was weird hearing a musical accent come out of someone that looked like her. She was from Canada, but every time Noelle opened her mouth, visions of the Eiffel Tower filled Tai’s head.

  Once she could hear a pin drop, Noelle beamed at them. “Welcome back. I must say I’m surprised some of you returned.” She winked a
t Tai, making the other girls laugh quietly. Tai gave her that one. She couldn’t be annoyed because it was true—she was always nearly one foot out the door.

  “I just came back for the jazz,” Tai called out, to show she could joke, too.

  “I believe you,” Noelle said with a knowing laugh. “Before I introduce you to our new student, I just want to remind you, one more time, about TAG auditions. For those of you auditioning, please come prepared. Stretch, practice, and get dance into your heads. This will be new and challenging.”

  As Tai expected, Mo’s hand shot up. “Mademoiselle, are they making cuts or are the auditions for show?”

  “For show?” Noelle’s eyebrows furrowed. She reverted to French, something she did when she was trying to understand how to explain something. “Mais non. There will be cuts.”

  A disappointed sigh exploded in the studio. Tai couldn’t tell if it was Mo, Bean, or somebody else.

  Sheeda piped in without raising her hand. “Like, does your vote count more than the other judges, though?”

  “Again, non. I am only one vote. It’s why I’m asking you to bring what you girls call your ‘A game.’” Noelle pointed to a banner above the mirror—If you love it, work for it. Si vous l’aimez, se travailler pour elle. “Remember the La Maison philosophy. Yes?” Enough girls chorused back to satisfy her. “Good. And remember there are other disciplines in the new program—art, music, and drama. Do not close your minds to something new.”

  Sheeda nudged Tai. “We should try out for drama.”

  Tai scrunched her nose. “Just ’cause you too scared to try out for dance don’t mean I am.”

  “I’m not scared. Just realistic.” Sheeda sniffed. “Hello, we still in the third row.”

  Like Tai needed the reminder. She waved at Sheeda to hush, but the seed of doubt had been planted.

  Noelle got so extra during ballet, always trying to force Tai’s body to do stuff it just couldn’t do. It was like she couldn’t see Tai was doing her best. Now here came Sheeda pointing out they were the slow learners.

  She tuned back in as Noelle was finishing up.

  “If anyone wants to use the dance studio to rehearse their audition piece, please just let me know. I will make sure you have any access you need. Yes?” She went on like anyone had answered. “So, everyone, this is Christol.” Her arm wrapped around the new girl’s shoulders. She beamed as the girls said hello in unison. “Merci. She’s new to class and the Cove. I expect you to embrace her. She is now part of the La Maison family.” With her accent it came out “fah-me.” “Christol please tell us a little bit about yourself.” She took a step back, giving Christol the spotlight.

  Christol looked like she might run out the door. Her voice was quiet when she finally said, “My name is Christol Mason.” She cleared her throat and spoke up.

  “I just moved here from Richmond. I’m going into the eighth grade.” She stood up straighter and more confident. “I’ve been taking dance since I was five years old. Ballet, tap, and jazz. We moved here so I could audition for the new magnet program.” A look passed between her and Noelle. It made Noelle smile proudly and seemed to comfort Christol. “I used to dance competitively, for a few years.” She looked over at Noelle, unsure again. Tai caught the instructor’s tiny head nod and rolled her eyes. Like, girl, spit it out.

  Christol took a breath, “I’vetakenfirstinmylyrical-andjazzcategorytentimes.” With that out, she talked normally again. “I’m taking a break from competing, so I can focus on technique. One day I want to get into a good dance school.”

  The girls in the first two rows murmured like she’d just announced she could fly. Mo glanced back at Tai, in the mirror, grinning. She was competitive and probably loving this. But it made Tai anxious. Christol had more experience than all of them. The last thing she needed was somebody else automatically moved up to the first row.

  Noelle stepped back beside Christol.

  “Thank you, Christol,” she said, pronouncing it, “Chris-Tall.” “If you don’t mind, please go stand in line next to Metai . . . Metai, raise your hand.” She gently pushed Christol toward Tai’s barely raised hand. “You’re new to our warm-ups and routine. This will give me a chance to see where you should be placed.”

  Nerves crawled all over Tai like ants. If Christol was any good, she would look ridiculous next to her. She took a deep breath.

  In her head, Tai knew the key was to transition from one position to the other smoothly, arms gracefully arcing from empty beach ball to left G—the terms Noelle had introduced them to before moving to the true ballet terms for first and fourth positions. In real life, Tai had a hard time catching the awkward rhythm.

  Noelle turned the music on and walked between the rows calling out positions in a singsongy melody that floated above the music instead of with it. Tai watched, in the mirror, as Bean moved in time without any thought. She willed her body to do the same. Her face was a mask of concentration as she tried to ride the beat.

  “And first position . . . second . . . third and fourth,” Noelle’s voice called.

  She stopped in front of Bean. Her eyes were everywhere at once. She nodded at some girls. Others she fixed with a head shake or worse, pursed lips, as she called, “First, now second, and third and fourth.” Satisfied with Bean’s performance, she walked on. “First now fifth and back to fourth. Third now second and back to first.”

  The closer Noelle got, the more flustered Tai became. She was a beat behind and when her feet cooperated, her arms wouldn’t. Tai jerked them to the right. The correction caught Noelle’s attention. Tai gritted her teeth as Noelle reached her in three soft but firm steps, placed her arms high and tight, the right way, then moved on.

  Before she had a chance to breathe their teacher was back, this time in front of Christol. From the corner of her eye, Tai saw Christol moving effortlessly from one position to the next. It made her face burn with angry frustration.

  Tai looked at herself in the mirror, and directed her legs and arms the right way. She couldn’t worry about the new girl right now.

  Class had just gotten real. It was time to grind.

  Chapter

  7

  Mila’s first thought when her eyes popped open the next morning—I like Christol. The second thought was, When had her arms and legs been replaced by burning hot rubber bands? Her muscles were so sore, even wiggling her fingers made her biceps pop in protest. Every burst of pain reminded her how graceful Christol had been. She probably wasn’t in pain today.

  When Christol seemed afraid to admit how long she’d been dancing, that’s when Mila knew she liked her. If Christol didn’t know the rest of them had only danced for two short years at first, she did after the class was over. But she’d still touched Mila on the shoulder as they were leaving, and complimented her. “Your leaps were pretty.”

  The four words made Mila float on air. It also made her feel bad. Mo, Sheeda, and CoCo had said the same thing to her before a few times, but hearing it from Christol made Mila believe it more. She knew that was kind of wrong. But somebody who had never seen her dance before complimenting her made Mila feel like a real dancer. She was even getting excited about TAG.

  Excited was probably too strong a word. The twins talked about TAG like it was passage to a different world where kids already had their future on lock. Mila was curious. Would TAG be that way? Or was Tai right that it would be like a lot of other after-school programs, here for a year or two then gone?

  She’d attempted to ask Christol what it was like to do dance competitions, but Tai had summoned her, telling her to hurry up. And like a sheep Mila had bit back her question and followed. She walked away embarrassed, promising herself to stop doing everything the way she’d always done it. It’s why she had to talk to her dad. If she didn’t, nothing would ever change and it would be her own fault.

  She pushed herself out of bed. Sore arms and legs or not, there was a Phillips Saturday routine to maintain. She reported to the living room
as her dad directed what chores had to be done and went over the rest of the day’s schedule. If Mila was okay with it, he and the boys would be going to Padonia, a park known for having extra-competitive pickup games.

  It would leave Mila an entire day to chill in a quiet house, maybe even watch the big TV. For that kind of peace, she would have volunteered to do the boys’ chores for them if it got them out of the house faster. She kept that to herself.

  Once her dad was confident she wouldn’t wither away while they were gone, he laced her with a few dollars for whatever the day brought.

  Music blared through the house to help them get through the work—bathroom duty for her, kitchen cleanup for JJ, and vacuuming for Jeremy, about the only job he could do where you couldn’t tell if it was done wrong or not. Her dad wandered from room to room making sure the chores were being done to his expectations. With the boys downstairs and the music loud enough to cover her, the next time he walked by the bathroom she called out, “Daddy, can I talk to you real quick?”

  He pivoted like a soldier. “Yup. Or you can talk to me real slow if you want.”

  They both laughed at the lame joke.

  Her dad posted himself in the doorway of the small bathroom. Mila sat on the edge of the tub and beckoned him in closer. He leaned against the sink, careful not to put all his weight on it. Thanks to her brothers, stuff in their row house broke in the dumbest ways. Most times their dad fixed it himself instead of calling the maintenance office. The sink was the latest in a long line of don’t ask/don’t tell fixes after JJ had sat on it, pulling the thing out of the wall.

  His eyes glittered the way they always did when he was really listening.

  Mila looked past him. She didn’t want Jeremy to walk up on her talking about this. Not after she’d made a promise. The coast was clear, but she still lowered her voice.

  “Would you ever let me move to Aunt Jacqs’?”

  Just saying it made her anxious. But summer would be fall soon and life would get back to normal, and life as normal included hanging over Tai’s. The thought brought back hot, shameful memories of Tai’s father touching her. By mistake? It could have been.