Читать книгу Indigo Summer - Monica McKayhan - Страница 12

Indigo

Pushing my way through the crowd, I made it up to where the list was plastered on the wall. My heart pounding, my mind drifting back to Miss Martin’s words, “…tomorrow morning, a list of those who made the cut will be posted outside the cafeteria.” Who would’ve thought that a list, a piece of paper taped to the wall, which held the names of fifteen girls who made the first round of dance team tryouts, would cause so much chaos? The fifteen girls whose names appeared on that list had been handpicked by Miss Martin, who had been the dance team coach for at least ten years. She had delivered an impeccable dance team year after year, one that was considered to be the best in the metro Atlanta area. Making that list meant that she thought you were good enough to come back for a second look; good enough to potentially carry on the school’s legacy. Meant that she thought you were better than the fifteen other girls whose names did not appear on the list.

As I reached the list, my French-manicured nail scanned the names until I got about three quarters of the way down the page. There it was in bold black letters against white paper, INDIGO SUMMER. The sight of it made me want to dance through the hallway; made me want to jump and shout. Made me want to pull out my cell phone and call Jade right at the moment and tell her the good news, but I knew better than to use my parents’ daytime minutes for anything other than emergencies. I did that before and ended up getting my phone repossessed for a month. It’s hard being cut off from the rest of the world like that. My cell phone was my lifeline. To cut that off would be like cutting off my air circulation.

I had made the first cut! I closed my eyes for a brief moment and thanked God. He’d obviously heard my prayer the night before and that morning on the bus. He was probably tired of me bugging him. But bugging him paid off, because he came through for me. Again.

The second name from the top of the list was Tameka Brown’s. She’d made the first cut, too. The problem was, her dance partner Michelle Smith’s name was not on the list.

Michelle’s eyes were bloodshot as she leaned up against the wall.

“I don’t see how she picked you and not me,” Michelle was saying to Tameka. “We were a team. Did the same moves and everything. I don’t know what happened.”

“I don’t know either,” Tameka told her, looking for words that would console her friend, but she was at a loss for them.

“It’s not even fair. I can’t stand Miss Martin!” Michelle said and then stormed on down the hall.

Tameka shrugged as she spotted me.

“Congratulations,” I said.

“Same to you,” she said. “I knew you would make it.”

I’m glad she was so sure, because I hadn’t been. I’d tossed and turned the entire night before thinking about it. By the time I had finally drifted off, it was almost time to get up, get showered and dressed for school.

I was more than surprised to see my name on that list. My heart pounded as I thought about the second round. Round two might not be so generous.

“Heard you made the first cut for the dance team.” Quincy found me at my locker, pulling my world geography book out for my next class. Dressed in blue jeans and a Michael Vick jersey, he smelled so good. News sure did travel fast.

“Yeah, the second round is after school today,” I said, slamming my locker shut and pulling my book to my chest. My heart started to flutter and the palms of my hands got all moist at the sight of him.

“I didn’t even know you could dance,” he said with those kissable-looking lips. Jade should see these lips. She would compare them to Usher’s. I found myself wondering what it would be like to kiss them, especially since I hadn’t kissed a boy since I kissed Andre in the seventh grade. And his lips weren’t nearly this kissable looking. “If I didn’t have football practice I would come and check you out.”

I thanked God that football practice and dance team tryouts took place at the same time. His being there would make me nervous and I would probably mess up my entire routine. I was grateful.

“Yeah, it’s too bad you got practice.”

Before I knew it, his lips were against mine, and for at least ten seconds I stopped breathing. I closed my eyes, wanting to savor the moment that Quincy Rawlins kissed Indigo Summer for the first time. I could’ve sworn I saw sparks flying after I opened my eyes. His eyes were opened the whole time, watching me.

“Well, I gotta get to class. I’ll check you later,” he said, walking backwards and then disappearing into a crowd of students.

I wondered if he had felt the same butterflies in his stomach.

The gymnasium was packed with people wanting to see who would make the second round of the dance team cuts. Five girls would be going home tonight, a swarm of emotions interrupting their sleep because they hadn’t made the team. Their egos would be crushed, their feelings hurt. They would have to face the rest of the student body knowing that they weren’t as good as the ten girls who would remain. The ten girls who made the cut would be Carver’s newest, freshest dance team.

My palms began to sweat as I sat on the bleachers next to Tameka, awaiting my destiny. My eyes glanced across the gym and found a pair of light brown 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.