I forced  a stubborn bobby pin in my gel smoothed hair and and tugged at the tight elastic of my ballet shoes digging into my heel. I smoothed the wrinkles in my tulle dress. It was a sunny Wednesday evening at Bishop Ireton High school where my ballet rehearsal and recital was taking place in their spacious auditorium. We were anxiously waiting for our turn to rehearse. I sat next to Olivia and did some of my homework. Soon enough, my eyes began to wander, losing focus. I stood up and danced on the slippery linoleum floor with my friends and every now and then reaching up and making sure the bobby pins didn’t fall out almost instinctively. Ava grabbed my hands and spun me around excitedly. As she twirled around, soft wisps of her golden hair slipped out of her tight bun. A television was set up in the foyer playing old tapes of our previous recitals. We all crowded around trying to see who’s who. “Look that’s you Kalista!” Olivia pointed out “We were so tiny!” She imitated our dance from that year playfully. She pushed away loose strands of dirty blonde hair stiff from hairspray. I see the stage door open and an arm flailing around. The woman looks around and I immediately realize it is our turn to rehearse.

We make our way through the younger dancers spread out on the floor coloring in princess coloring books with thick crayons and their moms frantically spraying hair spray and clipping the corresponding flowers in their hair viciously. I don’t stop to watch this strangely intriguing show of pulling hair, spraying hair spray, and clipping flowers repeating as if it was on a loop. Pull, spray, clip repeat. Pull, spray, clip repeat. Pull, spray, clip repeat. We finally arrived to the stage door and scurried in like mice. Our teacher, Ms. Grace hastily greeted us and told us to get backstage where we would come out from.“Chop, Chop.” she said briskly. As I gracefully circled the stage and came to my spot to pose, I could faintly hear the rippling harp and the mellow violins in our music. Olivia came out from the curtains and circled the stage and landed in her spot to pose. Ava, Alyssa, and Lynn soon came out the same way and the chorus of the song began. I hummed the song to myself as I danced.Balancé, Balancé, arabesque, arabesque, soutenu. Balancé, Balancé, arabesque, arabesque, soutenu. Everything was going as rehearsed until we came to the second part of our dance which we only learned two days before. I glanced to the side making sure I was doing the right steps. We continued our dance with noticeable uncertainty until we all found ourselves dancing different parts of the dance and stumbled on each other as we did our Tombe, Pas de Bourrée, glissade, Pas de chat. Which step do I do next I thought. I stopped dancing for a moment then began dancing again. Ms. Grace stopped the music. “ I need to have the other girls rehearse now, don’t leave though. Practice outside.” she said.

We scampered out the stage door and to the lobby. Once we made our way back to the foyer, I tell my mother we have to stay and practice, “Ms. Grace said we have to stay and practice. I think she wants to see us again.” This was the first time my group had learned the last part of our extensive six minute dance to days before our dress rehearsal. It’s not that we didn’t know the steps, we just didn’t exactly grasp the order of the steps so we all ended up dancing different steps at different times. I was glad Ms. Grace let us practice it more but could we pull it off? I  meet up the others and we begin our dance right in the middle of the lobby. Parents smile as we start our dance from the beginning but are quickly and politely requested to leave. We walk past the area where we stored our belongings and situated ourselves in the hallway leading to the cafeteria. Then we begin discussing the sequence of the dance. We asked each other which step was next and practiced and asked each other questions. All of the practicing paid off because we finally got the steps so well and perfected that it became second-nature. Despite us being sweaty and out of breath, we sprinted, not walked to the nearest water  fountain and guzzled down the gelid water.

The following night I tossed and turned worrying that I would forget the steps even though we spent all afternoon working arduously on them.What if we stumble again I thought? I spent most of the day restlessly pondering over the possible outcomes of the dance. My brain was overflowing with what ifs but I instantaneously thrust them out of my mind and cleared my brain so I could focus on my schoolwork. The six hours of school that kept my mind off the dance melted away like warm butter. The excitement that was within me that day was more than ever and I absolutely couldn’t wait to dance.

I arrived at the school and quickly reunited with my group and hurried to our area in the music room which had a separate entrance to the stage. We anxiously danced around doing pirouettes to pass the time and to settle our unavoidable pre-dance jitters. “I am so nervous.” Alyssa said. Her usually rosy cheeks were pallid. Alyssa, the newest addition to our group, was only nine years old, but very skilled and talented.“Don’t worry Alyssa,” I assured, “It’s normal to be nervous. It will all go away once you are on stage.” When it was our turn to dance, we each went to our designated wing and waited for the current dance to end. There was a moment of silence and then the music began. I  Bourréed around the stage and posed and the other dancers followed. Okay, I said to myself. Get ready for the Balancé. As we danced I noticed how well everyone was doing and that the second part of the song was approaching soon. I hear the music slowly progressing to the second part of the dance. I prepare myself, look around, panic for a moment and then–. Nothing. The near thought of tumbling fled my mind as we gracefully danced the steps which we had practiced the day before. A moment later we were grinning joyously as we finished our dance. We left the stage and high fived each other, “We did it!” I whispered. The dance after us quickly finished and we had to go back on stage for our bow. Then we went to the foyer and met up with our family and friends and went to the reception. As I sipped some ginger ale, I couldn’t help thinking that this was our last performance until  next spring and we won’t be going back for dance class until the fall. I was really going to miss my friends and I thought that all the practicing did help us dance flawlessly and I would remember this dance so that if we ever were in another situation like this, this would be the proof the practice does make perfect.