I used to be a regular, hip hop dance lover, thirteen year old girl.
This is the story of how that all changed.
. . . . .
I had just finished class, which used to be thirty minutes twice a week but when more people joined they had to make it an hour long, and Anne was begging Miss Karol to teach her some advanced move. Again.
“Anne, I have the younger kid’s class waiting. You’re dismissed, everyone,” Miss Karol reminded us. Everyone always hung around for a few minutes to talk to their dance friends, because it was the only time some of them got to see each other. “Go on!” The ten eleven to fourteen year olds trickled out the door to the waiting room. As always, my parents were late. They had work obligations, and so rarely came on time; but I didn’t mind. I got to talk to Tessa, my dance and school friend for the past four years, because her parents were busy too. I waited at the table in the shade for her, like always. But five minutes later, Tessa, who was never late, hadn’t joined me. Just as I was getting up to find her, she burst out the door.
“Sorry I’m late!” She half yelled at me, auburn waves swinging. We didn’t have to wear buns for hip hop, and Tessa never wore her hair up. However, I preferred my thick yellow curls in a high ponytail.
“Why were you late?” I inquired.
“Because… well…” she trailed off, “I asked Miss Carol to help me on one of the moves.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Tessa told me a