Indigo Summer. Monica McKayhan
ones staring my way. Marcus Carter rested his chin in the palm of his hand. He smiled when he caught me looking. Why was he there? To humiliate me? I rolled my eyes.
As the edited version of 50 Cent’s “Disco Inferno” rang through the gym, I started making moves that I had practiced all summer with Jade. My yellow and gray FILAs hitting the hardwoods at a consistent pace, my hips moving to a similar rhythm. When I danced, I went to another place; another world—all the faces in the gym became nonexistent as I did my thing. For two whole minutes, I allowed the music to consume my entire body. And then, something happened—the most horrible thing that would threaten to ruin my life. I tripped over my shoestring that had come untied with all the movement.
Embarrassment rushed across my face, and I wanted to cry. And as my legs began to stiffen, the music continued to play. I continued to dance, as Miss Martin made notes on her clipboard. Surely she was handing me demerits for my clumsiness. I would be one of the five sleepless girls who’d be cut from the team; my worst nightmare. My mind went to Jade, as 50 Cent’s voice rang through the speakers in the gym. I’d blown it for both of us.
I sat through the rest of the routines, but couldn’t wait until it was over. As soon as the last girl finished performing, and Miss Martin gave her spiel, I threw my backpack across my shoulder and rushed though the glass doors. I couldn’t breathe and needed some air. Couldn’t believe I had screwed up my chance of making the team. Any mistake would be an automatic elimination, considering the talent of all the girls in there. I searched the line of cars for my father’s truck. He was nowhere in sight, and I wondered where he could be at a time like this, when I had a rush of tears that needed to be released. I pulled my cell phone out to call home.
“Where’s Daddy?” I asked my mother.
“Indi, he’s stuck in traffic. He left you a message on your cell phone. Didn’t you get it?”
“No, ma’am,” I said. “I haven’t even checked my messages.”
“He doesn’t know when he’ll get there,” she said. “I would come and get you myself, but you know my car’s in the shop.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” I asked, my voice on the verge of cracking.
“You’ll have to wait for your father,” she said. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine,” she said. “How did tryouts go?”
“Okay,” I said reluctantly.
“Did you dance to Twenty-five Cent’s song?”
“It’s 50 Cent, Mama.”
“Twenty-five Cents, Fifty Cents. Whatever, Indi.”
“Yes, I danced to his song,” I said softly. “Ma, I need to go so I can wait for Daddy. I’ll tell you about tryouts when I get home.”
“Okay, Indi. He should be there shortly.”
I couldn’t wait to hang up as I stood in the courtyard. The leaves on the trees were blowing about, restlessly. Students stood around chatting and waiting for their parents, while the cross-country team passed by, jogging at a slow pace. In the distance, I heard a whistle from the football coach in the field behind the school.
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