Return To Sender (Letters to Nowhere #2)

Chapter 12

Chapter twelve

~Jordan~

            I wake up to TJ shaking me so forcefully I'm sure he's been doing it for the last ten minutes. My head is throbbing, the glands in my neck swollen and painful to the touch. Goddammit. I hate being sick.

            "What time is it?" I ask him.

            "Quarter after nine."

            I toss my sheets aside and roll out of the bottom bunk. "Shit! I overslept."

            "Your alarm was going off when I came back." TJ looks me over. "Were you drinking last night? Up until all hours with your girl? If it's the second one, she's got stamina because she didn't look even a little bit like you do this morning."

            It bugs me that he's already seen Karen today and I haven't. Nina must have let him work out in their gym. It also bugs me that he's showered and dressed for coaching. But I'm digging through my trunk for a staff polo shirt and gym shorts so I don't bother answering. I'm in and out of the shower by 9:20 A.M., my teeth brushed and clothes on by 9:23 A.M. and then my roommate and I are hauling ass to gym two.

            "We're practicing for today's exhibition right after lunch," TJ says.

            I've just gulped down four Advil and they're half-lodged in my throat so all I can do is nod. This is TJ's first exhibition for campers and from what I've seen of his training, he and I might be able to do some cool shit.

            If I can get my tired ass moving. I must have the world's worst immune system.

***

            "I really think the guys in leotards doing the maniac routine from Flash Dance is the best idea so far," someone says, her voice rising above the chatter in the dance gym.

            "We wore leotards two years ago," says Joe, another coach I work with a lot here.

            "If dudes in leotards is the best idea we've got, then this show is gonna suck," TJ says.

            Everyone quiets down because he's hardly made himself stand out in two weeks. I rub my forehead and force myself to take a drink from my Gatorade bottle. I've haven't eaten anything all day and it's catching up to me. Normally, I'm all about the staff exhibition, but right now, I'm just not in the mood.

            There's a unanimous sigh amongst the thirty or forty coaching staff the second Irina, the fifty-something-year-old dance teacher walks into the gym. She snaps her fingers and we all scramble to our feet.

            "First of all," she says with her thick Russian accent. "No boys in girls' clothes this year."

            "Thank God," TJ mumbles beside me. "I was ready to hitchhike home."

            "Wearing a leotard isn't that bad," I say.

            He stares at me. "You owe me that story and the one that involves you and the hot blonde." He glances around the room. "Where is she, anyway?"

            "She's a counselor, not a coach. She's with the campers whenever we're not coaching them."

            "Oh right."

            "We are doing hip-hop tonight," Irina says, "That requires rhythmic ability. If you don't have it, hide in the back and try to move in the same direction as everyone else. Where are my dancers? Don't be shy, front and center."

            Before I'm able to slink toward the back, since I don't have the energy to meet Irina's exceptional expectations, she's spotted me and made eye contact.

            "Mr. Jordan Bentley, move it!" Irina orders, and she plucks another three coaches from the group.

            We only have about thirty minutes to learn the choreography and fifteen minutes into the session, Irina has fallen in love with TJ, well, his rhythmic ability, anyway, and he gets moved from the middle to the front.

            I manage to forget about my headache long enough to come up with some pretty cool stunts for me and TJ and a couple other coaches to do following the choreography. After we get done, I stop by gym three, where Karen is having her second workout of the day, but I only watch for about five minutes because Nina gives me the evil eye the entire time.

            There are a few hours until it's time for dinner and the only thing I want to do is collapse into my bunk and take a nap.

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