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Parker pulls me into her arms and I bury my face in her shoulder. I try taking another deep breath, but as I exhale the tears just come spilling out. I can’t hold back the sob that breaks free. Ms. Parker is making soft noises and rubbing my back as I hold tight to her and cry. I don’t want to cry, I don’t want to show anyone how deeply that terrible class affected me, I’m supposed to have a thicker skin than this. I want to be a professional one day, I need to be tougher than this. But I just can’t help it, the tears and sobs are ripped from my gut, I’m so disappointed in myself and how I danced. This whole weekend is doomed to fail if this is how it starts.

“Shhhhhh, shhhhhh, it’s okay Hannah. One bad class isn’t the end of the world.” I hear her saying. My breath comes out wet, shaky and gross, but I can’t control it.

I feel more hands rubbing my back and, as much as I love that my friends want to help me feel better, my shoulders scrunch up towards my ears unconsciously. Ms. Parker must know how I’m feeling because she pulls me in tighter, subtly pulling me away from the other girls hands. I squeeze her in thanks and take another breath to calm back down.

“Okay, let’s just break this down for a second, girls.” Ms. Parker starts saying over my head. I don’t move but I listen intently. “One bad class isn’t going to be the end of your weekend. I’m not happy that the first class you had broke you down, instead of building you up. That’s not how it should be. So this is what we’re going to do—you’re all going to go back to the hotel where you will take a nice hot bath or shower. Then, you eat a good dinner and at nine, you’re going to come meet me in my room, okay?”

“Do we need to wear dance clothes?” I manage to ask.

“Nope, come in your pj’s.” She smiles down at me, then smiles at each of us in turn. “Everyone got it?” We all nod our heads and I pull myself upright, sniffing hard. My face is flushed and blotchy and my eyes feel swollen and red but I don’t cry.

Ms. Parker looks like she’s about to say something else when Olivia appears with three of the little girls from our studio in tow. “What’s up?” she asks, looking around at our glum faces. “Was the class that bad? I knew he looked like an ass…” she catches herself. “Um, he looked mean.” she finishes.

“Colorful language aside, you were right to sit this one out,” Ms. Parker answers. “Excuse me girls. I think I need to speak to the organizers. I’ll see you all at nine. Room 319.” She looks down to the three littles bouncing at Olivia’s shoulders, then quickly gives them each a hug. “You three danced beautifully, I’m so proud of you.” She looks at Olivia. “Will you make sure they get back to their parents?”

Our group breaks up after that. Olivia takes the girls into the lobby to find their parents, Ms. Parker heads inside the theater with a determined look on her face. Lisa and Katy walk over to the parking lot to look for Katy’s mom. They’re probably trying to give me a moment alone to get myself together. I slump down against a concrete planter and bury my face in my hands. A cool ocean breeze blows over my sweaty hair, sending a shiver through me. I scrunch down tighter, wrapping my arms around my knees, face hidden.

Was I really that bad? Maybe I’ve gotten cocky, too full of myself, tucked away in our little studio. I know I won awards at competitions when I was younger, but I never thought I was any kind of prodigy. I did think I was maybe good enough to be a professional one day. It’s what I’ve wanted since our moms took Olivia and I to see our first ballet. Would Ms. Parker truly encourage me to pursue this if she didn’t think I was good enough? I never thought she would give me unrealistic expectations. My mind is racing so fast I feel dizzy.

I feel bodies plop down on either side of me, sandwiching me between them. When an arm pulls me sideways I collapse into it with a shaky sigh. “He was such an asshole.” Katy says, squeezing me tight. “I know master teachers are supposed to be tough, but that was ridiculous. I mean, he was just being cruel, and I cannot believe he called that one girl fat!”

“He called someone fat?!” Olivia screeches from in front of me. “Oh, hell no. Hang on.” Before I even registered she was standing there, Oliva turns on her heel and runs back towards the theater lobby.

“Huh. I wonder what Ms. Parker will think of that?” Lisa muses from my other side, rubbing my arm. I hadn’t even felt it until now. “Do you remember that one guest teacher we had? The one from England? I remember her telling us about how Rudolf Nuryev used to purposefully make exercises impossible, just to make people mess up. And he would get pissed when they got them right. I think some people just need to feel superior.” I sniff and sit up, checking to make sure I didn’t drip snot or something disgusting on Katy.

“Yeah. But…” I start to say before Lisa shushes me.

“Nope, no buts. Katy’s right. He was an asshole who just wanted to take down the best dancers in the room to feel superior. He didn’t pay attention to anyone who wasn’t super good. He barely looked at anyone else.” Lisa points out. “He spent the whole class correcting you, Mae, and that guy in the blue t-shirt.”

I hadn’t noticed at all, actually. I’d been nervous, scared and struggling to keep up with what

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