Pretzel Bites
Her shoulders slumped in frustration. How could she have gotten him for her harvest festival partner? The whole process had to be rigged!
The pink glitter from her audition costume sparkled brightly across her translucent wings. Like the other kids auditioning for the festival dance, she had on the orange uniform and dark brown ballet slippers.
Arii bit her lip, trying to compose herself.
She was standing in the waiting area of the Winsley auditorium after the harvest festival coordinators issued the groups. From the stage, the coordinators had rattled off a list of groups in twos, girl and girl, boy and boy, and girl and boy. Arii had gotten long-everything Damelo. Long black hair. Long nose like a carrot. Long legs that she would surely get tripped up with.
Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!
In the waiting area, along with a set of purple plastic chairs that hurt her bottom and were covered with other fairy costumes’ glitter, she could see the twins, Desha and Nesha. The two younger girls were holding hands and twirling around. They were the most cheerful eight-year-olds she knew.
Arii glided over to them. Most of the area was empty, as the other kids had already received their partners. The twins and she were the last ones put into groups.
“Hi, Desha and Nesha,” Arii said, voice slightly above a whisper.
“Hey, Arii,” they said in unison, smiling.
“How’d it go? Who are y’all’s partners?”
The twins looked at each other knowingly before squealing, “We are!”
That’s not fair, Arii thought, feeling a pang of jealousy.
She hung her head and pulled at her tutu for a moment, obstructing her crestfallen expression from the twins.
Lifting her head quickly, she shook her head when they asked who her partner was.
“Damelo …” she mumbled.
The little girls sat down, sharing a purple seat. Their round eyes lit up. If they wanted some grand story, they weren’t going to get one. It was a cruel fate for Arii, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell the coordinators how terribly their decision weighed on her. She just couldn’t get her voice to become loud enough. She felt like her vocal cords tangled up when it came time to speak up for herself. For one reason, she knew everyone would think she was weird for not wanting him for a partner.
“That’s awesome! He’s—” Desha, the more outgoing twin, began.
Arii cut Desha off. “Not what I wanted.”
They sported identical looks of confusion.
“Well, why not? He’s the only one tall enough for you. You’re like a giraffe, you know. ‘Cuz your neck and legs are all long except your eyes.”
“You mean her eyelashes, Desha? Yeah, her eyes look bald just like her head.” Nesha agreed, nodding her head.
Arii patted her shaved head. Little kids couldn’t tell the difference between a low cut and an actual lack of hair.
Still, she didn’t correct them. Her mind kept drifting back to Damelo. She didn’t like confrontation, but she was going to have to tell him the truth. That realization suddenly created a film of sweat over her hands.
Desha and Nesha rolled their eyes. Arii was four years older, but they were acting more maturely than her.
A breeze of vanilla drifted through the air. Someone had opened the door to the waiting area, allowing the scent to infiltrate every corner of the room. Arii waved goodbye to the twins, her mind already somewhere else. The Damelo confrontation could wait.
Arii’s stomached growled before she glided to the end of the people. Outside, there was a short line of dancers and whoever else waiting for vanilla pretzels. Why couldn’t tutu’s have pockets? She had a little pocket change in her regular clothes. She would go back inside the Winsley auditorium, change, and get back in line.
“Oof!”
She landed on her but. What had hit her? Wincing, she looked up.
“My bad, Arii! I just finished a pretzel.”
She gulped.
Damelo pulled her up and offered a napkin.
“Hi Damelo,” she said softly. Her stomach twisted, and she wondered if she would still be able to eat a pretzel.
“Arii, you know, I’m really glad we’re partners.” There was a nervous twitch at his sugared lips. He placed a long strand of black hair behind his ear, appearing shy. As if.
She wrung her hands. He wasn’t going to make this easy.
“Um … Damelo, that’s great,” she began. “But this isn’t going to work out. Be… besides, you deserve a better partner. So we—"
He beckoned her closer, gesturing to his ear. Damelo placed his hands into to his baggy black pants. Obviously, he had time to go to the lockers and change. He had almost giddily run out before her when they got the partner verdict.
“Huh, Arii? I can’t even hear you. Your voice is so soft I feel like I’m never hearing you at 100%”
The unexpected spotlight on her mousy voice swung a kick to her confidence. People often thought she talked in whispers but that was just her normal voice octave. She had to yell to be at “normal” level.
“Sorry. I was just saying—”
“Don’t be sorry! I think your voice is cool. It’s like vocally-pleasing and stuff.” His eyes lit up, sparkles circling around the pupil. “You could be on the radio or narrate books or…”
She touched his hand gently. This is how he always got. He would ramble to avoid the point. But she wouldn’t let him. Arii reeled him back to the original conversation.
“Damelo, I don’t think I should be your partner,” Arii said with added volume.
A strand of black hair moved its way to the middle of Damelo’s forehead. The wind danced around him but taunted her, sending debris her way. For whatever reason, she swatted at the air.
He smirked.
“The coordinators think so. You’re not saying they’re wrong, are you?”
She hung her head.
“Yes, I am.”
Damelo didn’t respond to her. Instead, he pushed his way—no, he was escorted to the front of the line. The boys and girls happily moved back for Damelo. Honestly, he was such a likable guy. Too likable.
“Damelo?” she squeaked, thinking his name had been lost in the breeze.
“You want a vanilla pretzel or vanilla pretzel bites?” He called to her before giving her a chance to answer. Damelo turned to the worker with questions. “Ah, so the pretzel is better? It’s more dough for your money? ‘Kay. It’s extra for the chocolate drizzle? Nah, I don’t mind.”
Arii sighed dutifully. She sprinted to his spot at the front of the food truck.
“You don’t have to buy me anything. I have my own—”
“—I got you a regular pretzel since the pretzel bites in a cup don’t give you as much.” He moved from the counter and leaned against the display board of pretzels; pictures of pretzels with toppings, hotdogs in pretzel, and pretzel bites decorated a steel display rack.
“Damelo.”
“Arii, I don’t mind. I know you have money, but you have to understand you can’t control anyone else. So, I can buy you whatever I want.”
An arm shot out to the right of Damelo’s head, startling Arii for a moment. Damelo’s eyes twinkled at her sudden fright. He’s so childish.
Damelo grabbed the steamy vanilla pretzel clad in a pink tissue from the worker’s hand and exchanged some colored money for it.
“Right. You’re free to buy whatever and for whoever you want, but I don’t have to accept it,” she said, mumbling some parts.
His face fell.
Sighing, she grabbed the pretzel, unfortunately, re-igniting his cheerful mood. She took rabbit bites of the sweet treat. Eating wasn’t a top concern right now. Damelo getting the big picture was.
“Damelo, please can we talk?”
“Sure Arii—”
“And can you please listen?”
He blinked. Finally, he moved away the strand of hair settled in the middle. She could detect some nervous energy. His pretzel bribe hadn’t work.
Arii pointed to the green bench. The Winsley Park was conveniently outside the auditorium. Perfect for a ride on the swings after a theatre or dance performance.
A group of kids squealed wildly in an intense game of tag. Some still had on the dance uniform. Desha and Nesha were present in the roughhousing bunch as well.
Arii blew out some air, turning her gaze away from the kids. She wrapped the rest of her pretzel into the pink tissue. She would reheat it at a later time when she could enjoy it.
“Damelo—”
“I told my parents.”
“Huh?”
“I told my parents we’re partners. That they chose us,” he told her in a quiet voice, ashamed from being pleased. His lips quivered trying to form a smile.
She placed her face into her hands.
“Stop,” she muttered out. Arii lifted her head, determined and jittery. If she only looked at him momentarily, she could do this.
Before he could get a barrage of words in, she continued. “Stop. Stop being pushy. Stop trying to… win me over? I don’t know. You’ve been overly nice for the last couple of weeks even before the decision.”
Damelo opened his mouth, but she held up a hand.
“I know nice people are out there. Heck, you’re one of them. But we’re not even friends. You… you don’t even know me. I know you because you’re Damelo. Everyone at the dance studio knows who you are. You are an all-around freestyle dancer. Ballet, hip-hop, jazz, classical, etc.”
Why was she shaking now? Was the truth rattling her bones?
“Why… why do you need me as a partner? I’m going to weigh you down. Tricia or Yuki or Jamie are advanced dancers. One of them should’ve been your partner.” Arii frowned. “How was I even in the running? I… I’m not even an intermediate dancer.”
Damelo’s dark black eyes darted quickly. Usually, his raccoon eyes were cool to her. Heavy bags from nights of dance training. That was admirable; not healthy but admirable. A physical sacrifice for trying to force more time in the day for his love.
Arii danced too but in a different way. A less laser-focused way. She just danced when she heard music or commercials with jingles or to circulate the blood in her body after sitting too long. She liked dance, but Damelo loved it.
He needed a partner that could thrash and fight the air at a rhythmic pace like he could. One that could cultivate a passion already there, a body that could mirror his long strides. An equally elongated kick or fierce krump or tango as sensual as preteens could get.
“Damelo, tell them. For your sake, help me challenge the decision. Say that I’m holding you back,” her voice was soft, but he needed to feel the fire burning behind it. Arii was serious about this.
“Arii, I can’t.” He hunched his back over his knees. The part in his hair separated into two, sleek black curtains, covering his face.
“Why?” she squeaked. Arii patted his hand.
Abruptly his head shot up akin to a jump scare in a horror movie. She held back a cry. She should’ve known something was wrong. He hadn’t laughed at how easily she scared.
“Be…because it took everything for me to bribe them. I begged them to let us be partners.” He gave a weak smile.
Points: 122617
Reviews: 616
Donate