Week 11 Part 7 (Saturday)

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***lilly***

     I wake up at eight o'clock to my alarm. Brady isn't in his bed. He must already be up. I immediately get up and do fifty push-ups. I need some exercise before we have our dance meet and greet today. This time, it's in the morning, since it is Saturday.

     I grab some ALDC merch Mom must have slipped into my suitcase. It's the pink outfit. Of course, tucked inside is the red leotard for Body and Soul. I immediately do some sit-ups at the thought of dancing in the red leotard.

     "Lilly, why are you doing sit-ups?" Brady asks, standing in front of me.

     "I-don't-want-to-dance-in-the-leotard," I grumble in between sit-ups, and Brady puts a hand on my back to stop me.

    "You're going to look great on stage, okay? The mirror is a lie, Lilly. It-" Brady begins before I cut him off.

    "The mirror," I yell, adapting my voice to a lighter, yet stern tone, "The mirror isn't a lie, Brady. It tells me the truth I can't handle and the truth that nobody has the guts to tell me."
My voice breaks as I finish and I wipe the tears on my sleeve. The tingle on my wrist is strong, and I just want to run into the bathroom and cut. I scratch my arm a bit for some relief, preventing the foundation from coming off.

    Brady gives me a big hug, even though I don't want one. But I don't want to brush him off. That's rude. I look down at the ground and grab the small bag with my hair supplies, hurrying onto the bathroom.

    I brush out my long hair and put it into a ponytail. My only redeemable quality. I tug it to make sure it's tight and center, shifting it a bit. I gel down any bumps on the top of my head and I put on some light makeup. Your hair is the only thing pretty about you, Lilliana. Your body is the ugliest piece of crap ever created.

      Once again, all of our solos, and this time, all of the group dances, are going. It is going to be one busy day. I cover my cuts once again with some foundation and pull my sweatshirt over them again. The sweatshirt sleeves cover them more, so at least I'll have a sense of security until later this afternoon.

      I take my useless medicine and then exit the bathroom, tugging at my ponytail. I refuse to make eye contact with Brady. The tiny logical part of my brain tells me he's right. The mirror is telling me lies. But the bigger part, the correct part, knows the mirror is telling the truth.

     "Hey, I'm sorry. I just don't like you like this. I want the old Lilly back. You know, the one that did a Halloween photoshoot where Jordan made our parents dress in farm animal onesies," Brady teases, and I laugh at the memory.

     "Somewhere, deep down in me, I want that too. But right now, I have to dance. And for dance, I need to look pretty. And pretty means skinny," I reply, packing up some stuff in advance.

     He sighs and nods reluctantly. I give him a small side hug and put on my shoes. I grab my phone and I wait for Brady to finish getting ready before we both leave the hotel. We're going to go to Starbucks for breakfast. And by we, I mean, Sarah, Pressley, Brady, and I. Hannah and Gia are going somewhere else. I'm probably going to give what I get to the others.

    We see Mackenzie, Ms. Abby, and Ms. Gianna up front, along with the moms. I go say good morning to Ms. Abby, Ms. Gianna, and Mackenzie before finding Mom. She kisses me on the forehead and I stand next to her as everybody slowly files in.

     "Alright, Starbucks kiddos, come on!" Ms. Ashley calls out, and Mom and I walk over to Ms. Ashley.

    "Starbucks is somewhere around... found one about a mile away," Ms. Tricia reports, looking on Google Maps.

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