Sex?

Chapter 89

One foot in the doorway, I enter with snow behind me, the hall here dark and outside the sun has set and with one push of the door that darkness disappears.

Each time I enter this place, I'm blown away with my eyes left wide.

I smile. I'm here.

Bundled up in my big winter coat, backpack wrapped over one shoulder, snow brushing off and melting once they touch the carpet floor beneath me. I watch it all.

Then look up once more to the light.

Everything seamlessly falling off me as if even my clothes knew it was time to start.

Or maybe my coat was too big?

"Oh! Hi, Nina," June's voice chirps and my gaze finds hers. Our smiles reach our eyes simultaneously. "Excited?" she knows before having to ask.

~~~~~~~

I remember thinking nothing was ever enough. What I had wasn't enough and that need for more didn't matter. It didn't matter if it wasn't enough and I didn't care. Nothing mattered and nothing was enough. When I walked through the hallway, it didn't matter. When I talked to my friends, nobody was enough. When I went home, ate my food, did my homework, went for a walk, listened to music, watched a movie, it didn't matter. I didn't care. It wasn't enough. And now, I feel it is enough but now everything is gone. I'm not walking through the school hallway with friends, not talking to people and not not caring. I care now.

And as I go into the dance studio full of other discovering students, artists in the new place, kids with experience or without, all talented and all passionate, it doesn't matter if I mess up or if I do it a certain way, but it matters. Here dancing is what I care about and it's enough.

~~~~~~~~

After dance class, the room that had been glistening under the lights and light brown walls, is playing as a memory now as I step out with a water bottle in hand. It squirts out its juices into my mouth the moment I touch the tip with my lips. I feel good.

Though it's uncomfortable, the sweat that sticks the strap of my backpack onto my skin. Though it's a different feeling and I feel the aches traveling up my knees from where I had done pliés, squats, and kicks, it feels good. Though the pain is traveling up my spine and I'll definitely be soar, the teacher did say it's normal. I decide to listen to that and not judge my body's reaction. It feels good.

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It's been a week and everyday I'm coming back to this exact spot, coming to this place to dance for at least an hour and sweating my brains out. On repeat, taking a shower, refreshing myself and then feeling even more refreshed once I dance. It's a beautiful feeling.

I even think I'm getting better.

Nah, I'm still not the best. But it's fun.

I feel I finally have a reason to listen to the beat of the music and let myself loose and just follow along to what the rhythm of my heart is saying. It's beautiful.

And every day I come earlier and earlier to get another snippet of choreography, stretches, poses, and simply dancing.

I love this opportunity to lengthen my body and feel beyond the thoughts in my head and what the room reads. I feel we're all on our own boat but the whole class is connected. We know what we need to do even without knowing the steps, feeling each other's presence while listening to ourselves. I never thought I'd get accustomed to this lifestyle so fast but it has swooped me up like a mother would to pick up her child after she has fallen.

I have been picked up again and given a chance.

And now after class, water bottle in hand not as necessary as it was the first time last week, a smile to June at the desk, hearing the sound of teenagers in other rooms, I walk past the register where June works. Through the archway, I turn around and now the entrance is behind me.