I sat in English class, staring down at my paper in utter boredom. We were discussing grammar, something my father drilled me in when I was three and under, something I can literally do in my sleep. I tapped the pointer on the palm pilot. There, instead of the notes we were supposed to be taking down, was my 'things to do' list.
My 'things to do' lists always seem to offer more information than one needs. I always say that's 'cause there are so many words trying to burst out of me that they have to go somewhere.
1. Find my lucky toe shoes for the audition.
2. Do my geometry homework
3. Study for the History test- oh, scratch that. Know it already.
4. Buy Christmas/Hanukkah presents
a. Dad:???? I swear to God he is the most difficult person to shop for.
b. Ethan: a copy of the Webster's Thesaurus. He needs it to improve his vocabulary.
c. Nina: black nail polish? Note to self: find something for Nina.
d. Jack: a copy of 'How to Overthrow the Government'. It should amuse him. And me.
e. Aunt CJ: earplugs and the new Kylle Risahr C.D. Earplugs for Dad's ranting, C.D. because she wants it. It's one of those feminista power ballad thingies, which means I'll burn it from her and play it loudly to irritate my father.
f. Uncle Sam: Christmas CD's. He'll love them.
g. Mom: flowers. For her grave, those of you who are weird and don't get it.
5. Get Dad and Aunt CJ back together
6. Make Jack give me back the five bucks he owes me.
"Miss Zeigler?"
My head snapped up, and someone (Nina, probably) poked me and snickered. "Would you like to answer the question?"
"Can you repeat it please?" I asked smoothly.
"Can you name all of the punctuation marks in English grammar," said the teacher sarcastically.
"Period, comma, colon, semicolon, dash, hyphen, apostrophe, question mark, exclamation point, quotation marks, brackets, parentheses, braces, and ellipses," I reeled off efficiently. The teacher stared.
"I was joking," she pointed out.
"I wasn't," I countered, laughing inwardly.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The next morning was Saturday, the day of the audition. I was still asleep. What? I'm fourteen; I'm entitled!
"REBECCA!" Dad bellowed into my room. I fell out of bed. He's scary. I'm serious! And with the tone, and the grumble and the rumbling of the floor and everything… Anyway.
"I'm up, I'm up!" I protested into my pillow.
"Do I have to tell you again?" Dad asked/warned.
"Erm- no, of course not!" He left. Fifteen minutes later I had drifted off to sleep again. The next thing I knew was the slamming of my door and the rumbling voice of my father. Again.
"CADY REBECCA ZEIGLER! UP! NOW!" Definitely something wrong, my brain managed to register as I made a noncommittal noise, that voice was disturbingly loud. And close.
"GET UP, NOW, LITTLE HELLION!"
"Erble," I said.
The disturbingly loud and close voice suddenly began to chuckle. That woke me up more than the falling out of bed, or the very, very loud voice. Remember when I said my father is scary? Well, if its possible, he's scarier when he's laughing.
"What was that for?" I grunted.
"Bec, you've managed to sleep on the floor."
"Oh, go away," I groaned. Dad snickered again, took my pillow out from under me, and left the room. It suddenly occurred to me that, yes, I was on the floor. And it was hard and cold. Not fun. No, not fun at all. I pouted. It was entirely unfulfilling as there was no one there to see it but the cat.
"Humph," I muttered, shading my eyes from the altogether too bright sun. "Couldn't God turn it down a little?" All of a sudden a cloud covered the object of my loathing. I gaped. "Dad!" I shouted, "I have divine power!"
"Rebecca, I don't care- we have to go."
"But I can make stuff happen! I could probably walk on water!"
"Fantastic, test that theory after you've auditioned, Hellion."
I sullenly got to my feet and began getting ready, my brain still not fully working. I hate mornings. I can get up, of course, I just have issues and I'm not fully conscious until I've digested a significant amount of caffeine. I love Starbucks, yes I do.
After getting up I stumbled to the bathroom, splashed water over my face and brushed my teeth. Slightly more aware, I haphazardly dressed in a black leotard, white tights, and green sweatpants, all the while trying to pull my hair back into a semi neat bun. I shoved my feet into sneakers and swung my ballet bag over my shoulder. Whew. That took effort.
Then down the stairs, grab a jumbo-sized coffee cup and fill it, and into the car. Dad was already there.
"So what was this about you're ability to perform miracles?"
"Don't make fun of me!"
"Rebecca, you are informing me that you have been given powers of the divine. If you expect me to leave this subject untouched, you're even more insane than I suspected."
"Oh, shut up," I replied. An earsplitting rendition of 'Jingle bells' blasted through the car.
"How many times have I told you to TURN THAT DAMN THING DOWN?" Dad yelled. I just smirked and fished it out of my dance bag.
"Cady Zeigler," I announced.
"Hey Cadet, its me. Just calling to wish you luck before dance tryouts."
"Thankies, thankies. I'll need it."
"Yeah, remember to focus on what you're doing at the moment not on your mistakes."
"See, that's good advice. Dad, are you hearing this advice? This is good advice. 'Don't fall and kill yourself', that's not good advice."
"Yeah, not like your dad. That's right." I could detect a bubble of laughter in Aunt CJ's voice.
Dad pulled into a parking space. "We're here! Gotta go, love ya."
"Okay, knock 'em dead, Cadet." I clicked the cell phone shut.
"You done communing with the mothership?"
"Yeah, finished. Let's go! C'mon!" I was fairly bouncing as in the car I had digested far more caffeine than should go into a teenager's body- and I'm not big for my age. I'm tall enough, 5'5, but very bony, so it evens out.
Dad gave me a stern look and I quieted down. I knew that meant they wouldn't want a hyped up kid in their company. I took a deep breath and went in.
There were kids my age, and older, everywhere. Dad informed me he'd be in the waiting room. I rather wished Aunt CJ was there, not only because I wanted her at my audition, but because she could give me the recap of my grumpy father surrounded by perky ballet moms and so on.
I warmed up, surveying the room and wibbling quietly in my head. They called out the names. Mine was last, as usual. There was nothing to do but watch the others and become increasingly freaked. They were down to N's when I almost lost it and when outside to keep myself from hyperventilating.
I pressed speed dial seven. Aunt CJ. "Eep!" I cried into the phone.
By some miracle she understood. "Cady. Take a deep breath. Okay? Now close your eyes. Let go of the breath. Breath in again. That's it. Shake out your joints. Good. You'll do fine, honey."
I did feel better. "Thanks," I told her, back to whatever semblance of sanity I possessed before. The caffeine buzz was coming back- but luckily not too badly.
"Now go back in there and warm up again. Don't watch the others. And remember that you have divine powers and you can walk on water."
I groaned. "Dad told you?" My tone was incredulous.
"Of course he did!"
I rolled my eyes and said goodbye, walking back into the audition room. Now, more than ever, I was determined. Not about ballet, but about the prospect of Aunt CJ becoming another mother. A mother in heaven's nice, and all, but its not helpful when you're freaking out over ballet tryouts and going crazy on caffeine overdose.
OOC: KJ again. Finally got over writers block. Thanks, all you who read it, and especially those who reviewed. Special shout out to Rose, the e-mail helped jar me out of the rut!