TRACK #2 MUSIC:

🎵 "We're Dancing" - PYT

🎵 "Try Again" - Aaliyah 

🎵 "Come on Over (All I Want Is You)" - Christina Aguilera

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TRACK #2 - WINTER

"We're Dancing" - PYT

"Great! This is just GREAT!" Emma slammed her books down on the table in front of me on Monday. I had been attempting to eat a salad for lunch, but Emma's dramatic entrance caused me to jump and toss half of the contents onto the table, including on some of our friends' food. She didn't seem to notice and continued her rant. "Winterguard is a MESS this year. We're one girl short, and if we don't have enough people on the squad, we can't compete."

"Can't you just... find someone?" Adrian chimed in, his cheeks puffed out while he picked a few pieces of my lunch out of his.

"It isn't that easy," Emma explained in a voice that became labored as her anxiety over the predicament rose. "Brittany and Aimee are SO picky about who we can choose to replace Ashley. We have a 'reputation to uphold,' you know." Her words slurred together while she nervously explained the situation. None of us actually followed.

"Who? What?" Noah's eyebrow raised, though admittedly, all of us were just as confused as he was.

Emma took a deep breath before beginning to re-explain more slowly this time. "Sorry. Ashley Williams is a girl on the Winterguard team– or was, I guess. She competes in both the color guard and dance team ensembles with me, but she broke her ankle, and now our captain, Brittany freaking Jenkins, assigned me and only me to find recruits to replace her, and they have to be up to our coach, Aimee Chan's, standards. Brittany always does stuff like this. So if I can't find someone to do it, I look bad like I let the whole team down. If I do find someone and we lose, I look bad because I didn't find someone good enough."

"So, what if you find someone that doesn't screw up?" I posed the question to Emma before I could stop the words from coming out of my mouth. What was I saying?

She snorted, oh so lady-like. "I would imagine that would also be the same day Brad Pitt asked me out."

"Hey!" Adrian said defensively, to which Emma only responded in giggles.

I bit my bottom lip, instantly regretting what came next: "What if... I... joined the squad?"

As I slowly let out the suggestion, Emma's face lit up. She grabbed a hold of the side of the table and stamped at the floor with excited legs before reaching up into the air with a loud, "Yeeessssss!!" All eyes turned to see what the commotion was about before disappointedly turning away when they realized it was just Emma yelling. Again.

I instantly sank further into my seat and tried shielding my face with my hands. Nevermind! This girl is insane, and I take back everything I just said.

She laughed at me and squealed once again, this time a bit softer. "You will be PERFECT!" Emma grabbed my hands and smiled at me. I could see the plans she was devising written all over her face.

"Well..." I scratched the back of my neck, feeling nervous all of a sudden. "I figured it's time to join something at school, and why not do something that I don't mind doing while also being helpful?" Emma proudly beamed at me.

"And you'll look super hot in those little costumes," Kody offered. Little what?

"I think it's awesome." Noah encouraged me with a grin, though I could see underneath there were questions unanswered between us. I smiled gratefully at him in reply. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all. That was what I had thought until he added: "We'll get to cheer you on."

"You'll get to what now?" I asked dumbly, flipping back to regret.

"Yes," Elijah began, "Noah, Adrian, and I are members of the drum corps, which also compete in those competitions."

Oh. Right. Okay...

"This is going to be great!" Emma echoed her words from earlier. Yeah, just great. "Wait," Emma turned to me, a concerned look spreading over her face like she had just come to some horrible realization. "Can you dance? I know you're a musician and everything, but dancing isn't the same..." She waited until now to ask me if I could even dance? I was surprised at myself when a snort came out of my nose, prompting the group to laugh along. Apparently Emma and I both were lady-like today.

"I danced throughout my childhood, mostly ballet, but I did a little hip-hop, too. I only stopped when we went on tour, and just hadn't picked it back up because I've been busy teaching piano. Most of the time when you have rhythm playing music and dancing to it are similar. I just don't know what I'm supposed to do at dances like Homecoming. When it's coordinated, I can learn quickly." I put my hand on her shoulder to reassure her. "I won't make you look bad. I promise."

"Okay, well, I can always help you if you're rusty. Auditions are next Friday, and there are two practices after school to learn the routine– Wednesday and Thursday. If you need extra practice, we can work on it together, too. Maybe Tuesday after school, you know, get a head start..." She finally sat down to join all of us, cooling her excitement with mild hesitation. I knew she'd be fine once she saw that I could, in fact, dance.

The chance to prove myself came around faster than I thought possible. Before I knew it, Tuesday afternoon arrived, and I apprehensively entered Bridgeview's auxiliary gym, accompanied by Emma and a boombox. The smaller space housed a set of bleachers and large, folded blue mats set off to the side. Both the male and female locker rooms were connected on each end of the space, so there tended to be a moderate amount of traffic if a team was coming in to change. The room was often used by the dance team since the main gym was mostly reserved for the basketball team in the winter. Although the space was rather cozy, there seemed to be plenty of room for our purposes.

"So, I thought that the first routine I should show you is dance," Emma announced while walking over to the bleachers to set down her boombox. "It's probably better to jump into that one first before we throw a six-foot pole in the mix."

I nodded my head in agreement. I knew how to dance, but I was definitely out of practice. As we stretched, I wondered exactly how we were allowed to use this room by ourselves on a Tuesday afternoon. More accurately, how Emma talked me into this a day early after I tried several times to back out.

"Ready?" she asked, shedding her own t-shirt to reveal a sports bra. I certainly wasn't at that level of comfort yet.

"Probably as much as I'm going to be," I responded nonchalantly. I couldn't resist making Emma squirm. "Relax, I got this. What's the song for this one?"

We rose to our feet after finishing up our stretches. "'Try Again' by Aaliyah," she supplied. A hip-hop number. Good. "There are a few moves that I will be doing that only some girls can get, but don't panic, there are alternate steps to them." I nodded as she turned on the music. "Watch me first, and then we'll break it down."

Emma walked out onto the middle of the floor and stood with her feet together, her head down, and her hands at her sides. As the music began, her body matched the tempo perfectly. The song allowed for a lot of sharp movements common in hip-hop routines, but it also allowed for the leaps and other jazz moves that Emma informed me were required for these types of competitions.

I studied her while she went through the steps effortlessly. I was amazed by how easy she made switch leaps look and found myself smiling as I watched her land her barrel turn on the ground to continue with more moves on the floor. While she danced, she explained to me what the other dancers were doing, so I could visualize the bigger picture.

I liked it. The movements were fluid and exciting, and Emma knew how to sell it. I was actually starting to get excited to learn it. Emma finished the routine in a one-handed handstand, her legs in a "Y" position. That looked like one of those moves that not everyone could do.

"I think you should show that to me a few more times. I didn't quite catch all of that," I teased.

"Get your ass up here!" she beamed while pulling me up from my sitting position.

After a few hours, I had all of the dance team's routine memorized, and most of the flag routine. The latter was to "Come on Over" by Christina Aguilera. Emma explained that there were five different flags that I would be using during this routine. There were even different platforms that would be used to create a multi-level performance. Both of these numbers were a lot more intense than the Honeybears' halftime performance, so I was thankful for the head start.

I could feel my nerves take over me when I approached the gymnasium on Wednesday for the first official practice. I may have looked the part in my black dance capris, pink sports bra, and loose black tank top, but I didn't feel like I belonged. It was apparently a mutual feeling of Brittany, who, standing in the center of the room with a few girls surrounding her, stopped talking as I walked past to put my bag and water down on the bleachers. I could feel my chest tighten.

Emma approached me and touched my shoulder, causing me to jump. "You good?" she questioned, and I shrugged.

"Probably as much as I'm going to be," I echoed my words from yesterday. Only this time I wasn't joking as much.

"Relax," she smiled, borrowing my words. "You got this."

We walked together to join the group of girls standing in the center of the gym. There were ten girls in the room, including myself, though there was only one spot open on the team.

"Consider this the beginning of your audition," Brittany said firmly, standing in front of us with her shoulders back and chin up. "I will be in charge of these practices, with the occasional help from Emma." She flicked her wrist towards Emma. All of the girls turned to look at her. She gave a small wave and a smile. "Even though you won't be given points until your tryout time, don't for a second think you're not already being judged. And trust me, most of you are not good enough." My eyes widened– who says that?!

Emma stepped up to give her an earful, but Brittany brushed her off. "This is a highly competitive team, and we expect nothing but the best. You have to earn this spot. There are no free passes. We'll start with some easy combinations and then progress." Brittany moved to the front of the group to demonstrate.

Great. What a peach. Apparently I wasn't the only one who thought so, too. As I eyed my competition, it wasn't hard to tell that Brittany made all of us nervous.

A low whistle emitted from the direction of the locker rooms effectively grabbing my attention. A group of basketball players dressed in dingy workout gear gathered in the doorway to ogle the dancers. They must have been working out together in the nearby weight room to keep up their conditioning for their season.

Brittany immediately shooed them away. "No distractions," she barked, though a few of the girls giggled. I tried to stay as invisible as possible. That was until Brock caught my eye. His lips curved into a grin before adding a sleazy wink. I immediately winced, which Brittany didn't miss. "Aria," she called out to me. My head snapped in her direction. She walked over to me, her hands crossed over her chest. "Pay attention. I'd like to teach the next step."

Emma was about to come to my defense when I stopped her. "No problem," I said softly.

Brittany's eyes narrowed at me before she turned around on her heel with a huff.

Yup. A real peach.

Luckily, the rest of the practice went smoothly, though I could tell I was on Brittany's radar. I knew I had a target on my back because of the whole Brock fiasco, but I naively thought that she wouldn't be so abrasive since she was supposed to be setting a good example as captain. I wasn't even sure I wanted to be on the team if she was going to be like that all the time.

"How do you deal with her?" I asked Emma while we piled into her car after practice. "She's insufferable." There was a chill in the wind, and I snuggled into my coat, trying to find some warmth.

"She's not usually that bad. I'm guessing that she was extra bitchy since she saw the interaction between you and Brock," Emma sighed. I could see the look of exhaustion on her face. "They aren't an official couple yet."

"But I want nothing to do with Brock! I shouldn't even be her target," I reasoned, mostly with myself.

"Judging by the way he looked at you, I'd say he still wants something to do with you." A mixed look of anger, hatred, and disgust crossed her features. She glanced back over to me with a whine in her voice. "Are you sure that I can't kill him?" That immediately caused the corners of my mouth to twitch upwards. "What if I just maim him?" A smirk. "Can I at least punch him in the face?" A smile. "Slash his tires? Scratch his paint job?" We both broke into laughter. We spent the rest of the ride home with Emma reassuring me that practice today wasn't the norm, and that things would be much better when Coach Aimee came for tryouts. I was just hoping I made it that long.

It turned out that after a few more pep talks from Emma, I did indeed make it to the final tryout practice. And, much to my chagrin, we were going to work with the flags. I was sitting with Emma in the gym, chatting while we stretched and waited for the last of the girls to join us. Our heads snapped up when we heard the basketball players passing us. Again, some of them stopped to see what was going on, making comments to each other that were probably better left unheard, including Brock.

"Let's get started!" Brittany called everyone to attention, but as we rose we saw that she was staring the both of us down. We glanced at each other, then back to Brittany. She narrowed her eyes at us before turning around and storming to the front of the group.

Deciding to not make things worse, we each grabbed a flag and lined up. Brittany taught us the differences between a drop spin, speed spins, and push spins. We also had to learn a half toss and a cone toss. She was actually a pretty good instructor when she wasn't being a... peach.

"For the cone toss," Brittany eyed each one of us as she spoke, "your left hand is positioned under, your right hand over, and the flag is pointed down. You circle the flag counts 7-8, toss so the flag spins in the air on 1-2, then catch on 3. Practice that for a while."

Emma stood next to me, going through the motions and offering tips to me while I practiced.

"Emma," Brittany called to her. "Since you're in a teaching-kind-of-mood, why don't you show everyone the first sixteen counts of the chorus of our routine? This will be the first half of the tryout portion for flag."

"Uh, sure?" Emma glanced in my direction before weaving through other girls to the front.

"I'll count you in. 5-6-7-8!" Brittany stood to the side, her hands on her hips. Emma flowed through the steps, her flag twirling with her. As she danced, I marked the steps in my head to make sure I remembered them correctly.

"Good," Brittany stopped her. "Now we'll break it down." As she counted, Emma demonstrated. Brittany made sure to break down each step, pausing Emma here and there to show us the correct angles, grip, and head placement. Pretty much the rest of the practice was dedicated to learning the thirty-two-count piece of the routine. Brittany left only the last twenty minutes for us to practice all together with the music for both numbers.

After we ran through them each a couple of times, Brittany called for us to take a seat and go over the final instructions.

"Tryouts will start promptly at 3:30. Your name will be on a sheet with your time slot next to it. There will be no switching slots, or you will be disqualified. Your hair will be parted on the left side and pulled back into a low bun. Your makeup will be performance-ready. You will wear black pants and a black tank. You will wear jazz sneakers, and you will smile the whole time during your audition. If you fail to do any of these, then you will lose points." Brittany paced the floor while listing off the things that we needed to remember. "Dropped flags will also cause you to lose points."

I gulped. Emma nudged me with her knee, reassuring me that I was going to be okay. No one had any questions, so Brittany dismissed us. Emma held me back as the others left, giggling and talking excitedly with each other.

"Are you good with everything?" she asked me sweetly. I nodded, feeling more relaxed now that I got through the practices. I actually felt pretty confident that I knew what I had to do.

At least I thought I did. Which, let's face it, didn't turn out to be the case when the big day arrived and brought a whole new level to my nerves than I thought was possible. Most of the morning was a blur. I kept repeating the routines in my head over and over again, barely paying attention to my classes or much else.

Noah and I passed notes (and snacks) back and forth in Precalculus, talking mostly about the tryouts and when I would find out how I did. It was nice to settle back into our easy friendship even though we still hadn't discussed anything. I rationalized that some things were just better left alone. We once again had a substitute teacher, who gave us time to work on any missed assignments and didn't care what we actually did as long as we were quiet.

Before the bell rang, I noticed that Adrian gave Noah a slight nod before Noah slipped the note to me one last time. Preoccupied with Adrian's action and returning his goodbye, I almost didn't notice that something fell out of Noah's note and onto the floor. I picked it up and stared at it, completely confused. It was a purple braided friendship bracelet with a little silver music note charm woven in. I glanced back down at the note, and it simply read:

For luck! ;)

I looked back up to find Noah, but he had already left. Puzzled, but grateful, I quickly tied it around my wrist and headed for my next class. I would have to thank him later for it.

The rest of my school day was uneventful, but not any less nerve-wracking. Noah wasn't at lunch for some reason, so I had yet to thank him for the bracelet. It was handmade, and that was what I loved most about it. I knew I couldn't wear it during the audition, but the sentiment made me smile. When the bell finally rang, I slung my backpack and duffle bag over my shoulder and quickly made my way to the girls' locker room.

I changed into my black tank, pants, and jazz shoes and began to style my hair and apply my makeup. Seeing my hand in the mirror reminded me that I still wore Noah's bracelet. I untied it and was about to put it in my bag when I hesitated. Smirking, I tucked it into my dance shoe. "For luck," I said out loud to myself before exiting the locker room.

I turned and made my way over to the list posted outside of the gymnasium door. I scanned it to find my name:

5. Aria Gray, 4:30pm

Okay, middle of the pack. Not bad. I checked the clock hanging in the hallway and noticed it was getting closer to the start time for the first auditionee. Time to start stretching.

It felt like only a minute went by before Brittany burst through the doors and called the first auditionee. My stomach flipped while I watched the poor thing get up and slowly inch into the gym. Brittany's eyes narrowed when she saw me. She stared at me for a moment, then turned on her heel. The doors closed behind her and everything went quiet again.

That was weird. As if I wasn't stressed enough. To burn off some of my nervous energy, I thought it best to ignore Brittany and mark the routines. The rest of the girls joined in, and we went through them without really speaking. My stomach groaned as my insides twisted nervously. I silently called upon all of my inner divas to get me through this.

All too soon, Brittany opened the doors and called my name through gritted teeth. I wished the remaining girls good luck and stepped through the gym doors.

My attention was immediately drawn to a table that was placed in midcourt close to the bleachers. Behind the table sat two teachers that I recognized and a third person I didn't. She had her long, jet black hair pulled into a sleek high ponytail and wore a long-sleeved black t-shirt with the dance team's name, Bridgeview Honeybears, written across the front in orange. Her bright brown, almond-shaped eyes danced over the clipboard in front of her before she raised them to greet me with a warm smile. "Aria Gray?"

I nodded and returned the gesture.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Aimee Chan. Please take your spot, and we will be with you in one moment." She began to jot notes down on a sheet of paper, and I knew immediately that the judging had already begun.

I walked to the middle of the floor and slowly turned towards them. Remembering Emma's advice, I stood in fifth position, hands cupping my hips. I smiled broadly. I saw a pleasant smirk appear on Aimee's face.

I waited for a few moments more before the judges' heads all looked up at me. "We will begin with the dance routine. Ready?" Aimee asked.

"Yes," I replied before adjusting my position to stand with my feet together, head down, and arms at my side. Brittany pressed play on the boombox.

When the music started, something in my mind clicked. My nervousness vanished, and muscle memory kicked in. As I danced, I remembered to smile, but every now and then, I'd throw a playful expression in too. I wasn't attempting to kiss up to the judges or anything. I was just simply having fun. I forgot how much I liked doing this.

My only misstep was that my grand jeté was not as high as I wanted it to be; my left foot had slid slightly when I chasse stepped. Luckily, I didn't completely lose my footing, but I was pretty sure I grimaced.

After I finished the routine, I went back to the middle of the floor and stood in fifth position. The judges continued to scribble some notes, so I risked sneaking a glance at Brittany. She was seething. I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. Possibly both.

I continued to smile while I waited patiently for them to finish. Aimee looked up first. "Please feel free to grab the flag on the bleachers over there and warm up while we finish. I'll let you know when we are ready to begin judging the flag portion."

I nodded and did as she suggested. I began spinning the flag to get my hands and wrists warmed up, slightly pacing the floor while I did so. It was only a few more moments before she called me to come back over. Aimee had me demonstrate the exact spins and tosses that Brittany had told us we would need to know for the audition. I silently thanked the powers that be that Brittany actually told us the right moves and not something completely different.

"Thank you, Aria," Aimee concluded the drill portion. "Are you ready for the routine? This will be the last portion of your audition."

"Yes, I am," I said confidently after I readied myself for the music to begin. My divas cheered me on as Brittany pushed play on the boombox once again. The music played, and I got lost in the sound, simply enjoying the feeling of dancing again as I spun the flag and flowed through the steps. Surprising even myself, I caught all of the tosses and didn't drop the flag once while completing the spins.

When I finished the routine, I went back to the center of the floor, and once again stood in fifth position, my left hand cupping my hip and my right holding the flag against my body at attention.

Scribble scribble scribble. God, I wished I knew what they were writing. I stood for what seemed like an eternity, a smile plastered on my face until my cheeks began to ache, when Aimee looked up and nodded. "Thank you, Aria. It was a pleasure. You are free to go now."

"Thank you," I responded before I returned the flag to the bleachers where I had found it. I began to walk out, Brittany following at my heels to bring the next girl in.

"Great job, Aria!" Brittany exclaimed loud enough for the judges to hear. She walked ahead of me to open the door, feigning a forced smile. "I wouldn't get your hopes up," she spoke only loud enough so that I could hear. "Because I'm going to make sure that you never wear one of my team's uniforms." I hesitated, then spared her one last glance before exiting the gym. I wasn't going to play her games.

Even though I took the high road, Brittany's words caused me to retrace every step while I drove home. Was I graceful enough? Did I have clean lines? Did I hit every step? I recounted the tryouts for my parents at dinner that night. They assured me, as they were required as my parents to do, that I was going to be chosen. I just couldn't be sure. I knew if it were up to Brittany, and it did seem like she had at least some say in the decision, I probably wouldn't make it.

Unable to sleep, I decided to log onto AIM. Noah's name appeared and I quickly clicked it to message him.

Piano__Rock: Hey!

LilDrmrBoy316: hey! how did tryouts go?

Piano__Rock: I think it went well, thanks to your good luck charm. :]

LilDrmrBoy316: glad it worked :)

Piano__Rock: I never got to thank you for it. So, thanks!

LilDrmrBoy316: yw

Piano__Rock: I have to ask...did you make it?

LilDrmrBoy316: i cant tell u that

Piano__Rock: Why not?

LilDrmrBoy316: cuz then id have 2 kill u ;)

I rolled my eyes. Ever since he bought my smoothie at the mall, he used that line against me when he wanted to dodge a question I asked. I should've known he was going to use it again now.

Piano__Rock: I hope you could actually feel the eye roll I just gave you.

LilDrmrBoy316: of course i did

Piano__Rock: Good.

Piano__Rock: Well, I'm going to get ready for bed, but honestly, thanks again for the bracelet.

LilDrmrBoy316: netime. glad u liked it

Piano__Rock: Thank you. See ya later!

LilDrmrBoy316: l8r

Even though I knew I was going to be a nervous wreck about the outcome of the tryouts, I felt better about where things were with Noah. And that was enough to keep the smile on my face until I finally fell asleep.

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⭐ Cheer on Emma as she finds the perfect fit for the guard! Will it be Aria? Hit the STAR to vote for your favorite protagonist to earn her spot on the team and for MIXTAPE: Volume One.