Faith
I wake the next morning to the scent of coffee brewing in our small room. Tara is awake already, sipping a hot mug of brew as she sits at the little makeshift desk outlining her current schedule.
“Good morning,” she says with a grin, her eyes landing on me as I sit up in bed. I’ve slept fairly well for being in a new place, and for that I’m glad. I guess being out of my father’s house and away from Sadie did me good. “Coffee?”
“God, yes.” With a yawn, I kick the blanket off my feet and swing my legs over the side before going to the bathroom to run a brush through my hair. The time on my phone tells me it’s seven thirty. My first class doesn’t start for another hour, and then dance auditions are an hour after that.
“How’d you sleep?” Tara asks.
“Like a baby.” I stretch my arms over my head and arch my back like a cat as Tara hands me a mug of steaming joe. Sadie was addicted to coffee at home, but she always refused to let me have any. I was never seen as a grown woman or adult in her house; I might as well have been a toddler for the way she treated me. But for now, I was free, and her hold on me would be far less now than it ever was. Or so I hoped.
“You’re still going to auditions, right?” Tara says, finishing off her coffee. “You didn’t change your mind?”
I consider this briefly, then shake my head. While part of me wants to call it off, a bigger part of me insists that I would never forgive myself if I didn’t at least try. I’d grown up as a dancer, and once upon a time, I’d strived to be the best. My drive and motivation never wavered, even after years of Sadie’s relentless emotional abuse. Besides, I’m certain I won’t make it anyway. I’m too rusty; it’s been too long. But maybe going will at least get Tara off my back so I can focus on my work like Dad and Sadie expect me to. I don’t need any reason at all to move back in with them if college fails me, or if I fail it.
“I haven’t changed my mind,” I tell her. “But I know I won’t make it. They’re assuming I’m better than I am.”
Tara shrugs, gathering up her textbooks as she shoves them into her book bag. “Regardless, I intend to be there to cheer you on and maybe dance myself. So you better show up.” She slings the bag over her shoulder and grins at me. “I gotta run. See you in a bit.”
Tara leaves and I settle into the desk to go over my own schedule. I hope to have it memorized within a day or two so I don’t look like a novice walking around campus with it up to my face. It’s a big school, and I’m already nervous that I won’t know where to go for every class, but it seems pretty straightforward, and the map. Helps immensely. As I finish my coffee and gather the textbooks I need for my first few classes, my phone dings. It’s a text from the step monster.
Call us tonight. Tell us how it went.
I snort and set my phone aside before getting up to get ready for the day. Sadie loves to pretend like she’s some doting mother, but nothing could be further from the truth. She’s a grade-a bitch, and everyone knows it. I’m dreading the phone call tonight but I know I have to make it. That was part of our deal.
With a sigh of frustration, I dig into my suitcase for something halfway decent to wear for my first day as a college Freshman. There’s not much there, and I make a mental note to ask Tara if she’ll take me shopping soon for new clothes. I’m trying hard to branch out, to remind myself that Sadie isn’t here to dictate my every thought and decision. Once upon a time, I’d been my own person; unique, carefree, and fun. After the death of my mother and my father’s marriage to Sadie, over the years my self-expression had been squashed to oblivion. I’m no longer the person I once was, but maybe with time away from her, I can find myself again.
I settle on a pair of jeans that have seen better days and a sweatshirt that, while oversized and frumpy, is a beautiful emerald color that brings out my eyes. I go to the bathroom to get ready, bringing my small and slightly useless make of cosmetics with me. There I find Tara’s curling iron and other hair products. Hoping she won’t be angry with me, I plug it in with hopes to walk out of our dorm looking somewhat decent this morning. If I show up to auditions looking like a homeless person, I already know they’ll kick me out before I can even dance.
Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
After doing what I can for my freckled complexion and dull blond hair, I grab my phone and bag and set out into the world, making my way across campus for my first class of the day. Intro to Economics. Oh, joy. It doesn’t matter though. Anywhere is better than home, even if it is the world’s most boring class. I just wish Tara was taking the same classes I am, but beggars can’t be choosers. I’ll just have to try to make more friends.
I find the Econ classroom fairly quickly but right on time, and as I grab the door handle to enter, it swings open from the other side, and a student barrels out, knocking into me. My book bag comes loose from my shoulder and drops to the tile, and a binder full of papers scatters across the floor.
“Oops,” the guy says, but he doesn’t bother helping as I bend down in a frenzy to gather it all up. I’m humiliated, but even more so as I raise my chin to look into the eyes of this asshole. A flutter of recognition flits across his face, and it takes me a minute to place him. One of Danny’s dancers. I don’t know his name, and I don’t care to, but he’s astonishingly handsome and I hate that.
“Don’t mind me,” I say, my anger growing as I grab the last of my papers and shove them into my bag. “I’m fine.”
The guy chuckles as though he’s highly amused. If I was a violent person, I would have hit him.
“No problem, Faith,” he says, and I’m shocked that he knows my name. The sound of it on his tongue sounds so out of place, and I want to cringe. I don’t like that he knows more about me than I do him. Danny must have spilled the beans about me to his team. I’m a fairly private person, and I don’t like that. As I straighten up, coming face-to-face with him, I’m caught off guard by how close he is to me suddenly. His soft brown hair falls loosely into his eyes, and bold, tortured hazel eyes shoot straight into my soul. He’s smirking at me, but behind that smirk is pain. A wounded spirit, if you will, and even more so than that is anger. This guy hates me, and I have no idea why. He doesn’t even know me.
“Still coming to tryouts today?” he asks, sounding hopeful that I might not. I feel defiant suddenly like all I want to really do is piss this brooding guy off further and I don’t know why.
“Most definitely,” I say, throwing my shoulders back defiantly. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”
He shrugs like he doesn’t care enough one way or the other, but he’s still standing squarely in front of the door, blocking me out, so he must care to some extent.
“You just looked disinterested yesterday when you were chatting it up with Danny,” he says. “Kind of like you’d rather gnaw your own arm off than dance for us.”
I open my mouth to retaliate and then close it again because I know he’s right. I didn’t even want to go until Tara convinced me otherwise, after the fact.
“I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you,” I tell him, hoping I sound braver than I feel. “Not sure why you care at all.”
I expect the guy to keep this little tiff going, and just when I’m sure he’s going to insult me further, he simply snaps his mouth shut and shakes his head before turning and walking away without looking back.
“Asshole,” I mutter under my breath, but it’s a lost cause. At this point, I’m not sure if I really want to go through with the audition. Can I handle such ego and attitude like that? Better yet, do I even want to?