From Ninety to One-Eighty

           Andy could feel her groin reach the scuffed, wooden dance floor as she pressed her shoulders towards her knee. After four years, she could finally reach a full split on both her right and left. After two counts of eight, she straightens her back and sits up, bending both her back and front leg ninety degrees into wheel barrel position.

            She can hear the applause from the stage down the hall. Her green eyes glance up at the sequence of dances, figuring she had at least another hour until her big moment. After another two counts of eight, she rolls onto her back. Focusing her mind on making her back completely flat on the ground, she flexes her feet, raises her arms straight in front of her, using her abs to pull her torso up off the floor. Breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, she raises both legs forty-five degrees into the air, pushing out her arms on both sides of her body. All her weight is on her tail bone, balancing perfectly.

            “Andy!” She hears her close friend, Monique, scream. The balance is gone and the pain shoots right up her spine as Andy collapses to the floor. She grunts, but pulls her body up.

            “Yeah?” She brushes off hair and tap-shoe shavings from her legs.

            “Only one more hour!” Monique jumps up and down, “Aren’t you excited? I’m so nervous. I was just talking to Beth and she’s all nonchalant about it but,” Monique grabs Andy’s shoulders, “this is our last and final concert, ever!”

            Monique rambles when she’s excited. Andy rolls her eyes and laughs at her friend, patting her on the back and telling her to stop being so over dramatic.

            “Sometimes I think back to when I first entered dance and how hard kicking my leg ninety degrees – straight - seemed so impossible.” Andy picks up her phone and checks her messages. There’s one from her father, telling her to break a leg and that he can’t wait to see her do great.

            This makes her heart warm. She never thought she’d see the day where her father was proud of her path in dance. When she broke the news to her parents four years prior that she was ending her seven year ordeal with lacrosse to take on dance, they thought she was insane. Her mother told her that the women in her family did not have the body structure to dance while her father constantly reminded her of bigger opportunities that she could achieve from continuing lacrosse.

            “Oh, I know. Now we can do one-eighty!” Monique instantly turned to first position, stepped back and kicked her leg right next to her ear. Her leg dropped to the ground without a sound, then bubbled over to another group of girls chatting in excitement.

            Andy took this as the perfect time to go fill up her water bottle. Making sure that her costume was covered, she walked out into the hallway filled with families and friends and bee-lined it straight for the water fountain.

            “Hey you!” Andy jumped at the loud voice. She turned to see who was rudely yelling with a dance being performed down the hall to see her lifetime best friend, Christina, jogging towards her. “Are you in costume, young lady?”

            Andy chuckled, “Why aren’t you inside watching the show?”

            “Uh, because you’re out here. D’uh.” Christina acted as if her question was absolutely absurd. Christina was in dance for three years with Andy and Monique, but due to conflicting schedules, she was not able to participate in their final year. “So, are you going to cry?”

            “Probably.” Andy topped off her water bottle and took a huge chug, “I’m really glad you came.” She smiled at her best friend.

            “I wouldn’t miss this! I’m still pissed I can’t be in it! Actually, that’s a lie. I only took dance because I was bored.” Christina admitted.

            “Well, that was obvious.” Andy teased back. “Monique is all hyper active and bouncing everywhere, I’m just upset that this is my last year. It was so much work to get from there to here.”

            Transitioning from an athlete’s body to a dancer’s was one of the hardest tasks Andy has ever had to do. For years, she was living up to the family name of being best in state in lacrosse. She could run a mile in six minutes and could catch a lacrosse ball mid-air from the other side of the field. For dance, none of those skills mattered.

            Andy had to focus on stretching her back muscles day after day; adjusting her toes to her point shoes which often led to cracked and bleeding feet. The bruises on her shoulder bones from consistent shoulder rolls were no joke – one incorrect shift of weight and her neck could snap. Not to mention the tears that came from spreading her legs against a wall and having her groin physically pressed towards the wall to stretch into a split. All of that hard work was never taken serious by her parents, but tonight she wanted to prove them wrong.

            Standing on stage with all the lights out was the scariest part of dancing in Andy’s perspective. She could see the audience waiting for any sign of movement but all she could do was stand bare in front of them.

            The music started and the back lights lit up a deep blue; Andy knew that only her silhouette was visible to the crowd. She concentrated strictly on engaging her arms, because if the stretch didn’t reach her finger tips then her arms weren’t fully straight. Toes pointed and chin up, Andy danced like never before.

            Once all the stage lights came on, the crowd disappeared beyond blackness. One rule of thumb in performing was to never search for the audience. They’re there, whether you see them or not. Andy dipped and leaped, making each movement count, knowing it would be the last time she could ever prove her parents wrong for their lack of support.

            When it came time for the calypso, Andy breathed. She had done it a thousand times before in front of the mirror. The stage lights created a line of sweat around her hairline, but she bit her lip and lunged. Time moved slow as her whole body rotated three-hundred and sixty degrees, four feet up in the air. She kept her eyes pinned on the projector to keep her movements in line; when her big toe felt the stage floor she knew that she did it - from there on out it was just the ending.

            A lifetime seemed to pass before the music stopped rather than the two minutes the song entitled. When the lights shut off, it was quiet. All of the sudden, applause filled the auditorium and the lights came back on for a bow. Andy found tears in her eyes as she waited for the lights to dim so she could exit the stage.

            Out in the hallway, Monique and Christina ran up to her to exclaim their amazement from her performance. She was still shaking from the adrenaline as she thanked her friends. Pushing past the line of dancers waiting to enter the stage, Andy walked out into the hallway to see her mother and father standing with tears in their eyes and a bouquet of flowers. She ran up and hugged them hard.

           “We’re so proud of you, little one.” Her mother told her, laughing in cheer. Her father shook his head smiling, placing a hand on her shoulder,

            “You proved me wrong. You can do anything you set your mind to. You always could, obviously, but you better stick with this, kid – you’re good at it.”