This story takes place late at night in a High School. This is thrown together so read at your own risk.
My team had a miserably long practice before nationals on Thursday night. When I say “miserably” I’m talking- crying, yelling, throwing up, girls passing out. Coach nearly had a heart attack from how our routine looked. She also got mad because we didn’t make it to the trash can in time. (She lost her voice the next day from screaming, no joke).
I like to stay at the gym late sometimes after class, whenever we practice outside of our studio. They let me use the speakers and just tell me to lock up when I’m done. (Can you say I live in a small town without saying I live in a small town!?) It’s therapy. I’ll work on my audition routines, al second technique, and then just lay there in the middle of the gym floor and think. I’ll bring my laptop and write sometimes. It’s nice when my dad is asleep before I get home. I take my time.
I don’t have the best home life at the moment. I took “those” posts down because I don’t want to shame my family.
I thought I was by myself so I did what I usually do. I set up all my stuff in the girl’s locker room and I sang along to my shower playlist. I actually prefer showering here. Don’t tell mom, she’d cry.
I froze in fear.
I heard my water bottle drop off a bench in the other room. There were footsteps and then the door shutting. If I could have, I would have just melted down the drain. I dressed as quickly as humanly possible, like record time. I walked into the gym to find this guy sitting on the floor trying to use my muscle roller… what in the world.
“How does this work? Are you supposed to like, lay on it?” He said starting to roll his back on top of it, scrunching his face in pain. “Hey!!” I said. “Hey!” “When exactly did you get here?” I said embarrassed as I stood there thinking over all the songs I was just screaming moments ago. My hair brushed straight and soaking the back of my shirt, the conditioner only half washed out. “A while,” he said. “Like…how long?” I said irritated. “Long enough to hear how pretty you sound,” he said proudly.
“You walked in the girl’s locker room?” I asked nervously. “I did for a minute, don’t worry I’m a gentleman.” He said looking at the muscle roller still. “Your name is (my name) right, you dance for Coach K? And you do school online… not here, right?” “I could get you suspended for walking into the girl’s locker room. You don’t look like you’d pass for a transgender person, but a pervert.” I said. “Thank you? I was just curious who was here, that’s all.” He said smiling.
“That’s not gentlemanly.” I stated more so to myself than to him. “Don’t you want to know my name?” he said. I contemplated, “Nope, I got to go. You’re a creep.” I said turning around. “Wait your rollers.” He tried rolling them to me. Obviously they don’t roll straight so he had to get up and walk across the gym to retrieve them. I stood there in awkward silence. “I should be honest, I already know you actually, or know of you. Now that I’ve seen you embarrassed you’re not so intimidating.”
“Why are you here so late?” I asked genuinely. “I’m…homeless,” he said looking at the floor. I didn’t know what to say, I suddenly felt really bad for this kid. “I hate the shelter. My parents died, my grandma does drugs and my grandpa tried to lock me in the basement. I have no siblings, no Aunts or Uncles. I have nobody.” He looked up at me and his eyes started to pool. I stood there looking at him with probably a pretty pitiful expression, then I started noticing things about him. His shoes were nicer than mine and his hair was long, wavy and messy, but clean and shiny. His skin was clear like he can afford a good cleanser and his teeth were straight purls. “I’m just kidding,” he said and chuckled. “What a horrible joke, I was about to go buy you dinner and find somewhere for you to sleep!!” “That would be very kind of you actually,” he said taking the bag off my shoulder and nodding to the doors.
We went separate ways once we got to the parking lot. “See you around,” he said.
Maybe he just moved here? I’ve never seen him in my life. I don’t think I’ll be seeing him around. He’s funny, I’ll give him that.
What did I learn? Lock the girl’s locker room.
Goodnight blog friends. -E
Elaine Kate 