Payton-BendsMature

Standing in front of the mirror at seven in the morning and looking like shit was not a way I’d like to start my day. I had a half hour to get ready to go to dance. I sighed and grabbed a brush, a ponytail and fist full of booby pins and a sports bra.

I brushed my hair back into a high bun, sticking about ten booby pins in, making sure it not full out with ten hours of dance and stuck a holder over it. I applied mascara and skin colored eye shadow.

I left my room and ventured toward Ryan’s, my driver for early morning classes. I carefully, not trying to break my ankle, kicked his door.

“WAKE UP!” I screamed. I herded him roll out of bed and stumble to the door.

“What the hell was that for?” He asked, rubbing his head.

“I wanted to wake you up. Get dressed. I’ll be down in ten minutes.” I returned to my bedroom and tossed on my favorite sports bra and matching dance shorts. I grabbed my dress bag which kept my costumes neat and tidy and my make kit.

“Pay, hurry up!” Ryan yelled. I looked at my clock on the counter. Seven twenty five.

I quickly checked myself in the mirror, tossed on a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt, grabbed my load once again and meet Ryan at the bottom of the stairs.

“Where’s my dance bag with my shoes and stuff?” I asked quickly.

“Right here.” He said tossing a bag with my name in pink on it. “Eat this in the car.”

He handed me a special K bar and headed me out of the room.

************************************************************************

Standing in the front room of the studio, looking at the pictures was my favorite hobby. I love seeing everyone when they where little. At that moment, I was looking at the ones of myself at my first En Pointe. They had edited it to look like I was on a bridge railing, my support was well, Max. Like always.

I smiled at that picture. I was ten and scared to death of Pointe and hearing the sound of my ankles cracking. Now I love Pointe, and the sound of my ankles cracking is gone.

“Payton!” I turned at the sound of my voice.

“Yo!” I said. Elliot was walking in, wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.God, Mary is going to stab him if he is dancing in that.“Oh hi, Elliot.”

I crossed my fingers behind my back that Max would walk in.

“Hey! Are you ready for ten hours of dance.” I shrugged, saying a few prayers in my mind.

“Where is Max at?”

“I don’t know, he should be here.” I felt my phone tingle form inside of my bra, where I had placed it before I dance. “Umm, can you excuse me.” I said and turned around and took it out.

It was a text from Max.

“I’ll be there in five. Go in to the studio.” I sent a text back saying k, and dropped my stuff in a cubby. I took of my sweat pants and t shirt and went into class.

“Payton! Go warm up.” Mary commended, and sent me over to a group of dancers in splits and backbends.

I dropped into my back bend and moved my feet as close to my hands. I then brought my right leg over to my head and fell into my spilt.

Max had finally appareled with Elliot right behind him, talking. Max came over and sat down next to me.

“Hey,” I said, pushing my head back trying to touch my leg.

“Hey.”

“Ok,” Mary said, taking her place at the front of the room, Jake, the male teacher next to her. “Come sit down.”

The group of teens from twelve, kids who where just joining the teen and senior company a, to eighteen year old sat by there feet.

“Ok, the seniors, that means if your fifth teen and older, you will be doing foot lose. The rest of you go down to studio B and run your solos from last year.”

A bunch the kids got up and left, mean while I watched Mary look-over and smile at Jake.

“For your group dance, you guys are doing a musical theater to Footloose.” I felt my heart leap into my throat.

“Now, we are pairing you up. When we say your name, go where we say. Understood?” We all nodded.

“Peter, Jamie. Back left.” The two got up and went to there spot.

“Emma, Luke. Back Right.”

“Delly, Hunter, front left. Max, Taylor, front right.” I feltmy breath let out at the sound of my name not being linked with Max’s.

I watched Max’s eyes meet mine, pleading with me. What could I do..

“Payton, Elliot, front center.”

The End

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