Love, Loathing, and Limelight

Chapter Twenty-Five

I had gotten so caught up in camp and everything else that I couldn't even remember my birthday was coming up. I couldn't even remember that I was turning eighteen, which at one point, I was counting down the days to.

I spent years planning my dream eighteenth birthday, and now that it was finally here, I decided that I'd rather go out to dinner instead of a party. People have always joked that I'm the adult of my house, and it was a dream that was finally coming true. I expected that I'd wake up and feel eighteen. I hoped that adulting would come naturally to me because it seemed I'd already been doing it for so long. But I woke up on my eighteenth birthday, and I didn't feel eighteen. I felt sad. I felt like an insecure diminutive thirteen-year-old. I never had an insecure phase. I've always been confident. But I didn't even want to participate in Megan's birthday movie tradition, and I didn't stop to notice that it may have hurt her a little.

Turning eighteen was just whatever at this point. Not being able to dance or do anything I used to do was just whatever. The only problem was when I wasn't dancing, I was thinking about him, and I couldn't think about him without thinking about how I broke his heart.

Seeing as I couldn't dance in any classes anymore, my schedule was changed against my will to have some different courses for the time being. I was told I would be getting more "practical classes," stuff like philosophy or world religions, the classes that only exist for people who need the credit. They said it would make me a more "enlightened individual" so I could represent the school well as if my future in dancing was gone and my school didn't see the value in me anymore. I've always prided myself that I go to a school designed for me to dance, and now I go to school to be an "enlightened individual."

I wasn't doing anything anymore. I was sleeping in later than ever because I can't be thinking about him if I'm sleeping. At church one day, I was approached by the senior girls' life group leader. She knew who I was, and after booty camp, she started saying hi to me every now and then. I don't know how she knew I was going through some stuff. It must have been the pastor's intuition. She was an older black lady with no hair. I never showed up for life groups, so I never knew her name, but I imagine she's been told a lot about me by the other senior girls.

"Hello, Miss Sara," she said before service one day as she found me in my seat with my aunt. "Hi, Megan." Megan smiled cordially, but she didn't have a clue as to who she was.

"Hi," I said.

"How's it going?" she said, sitting next to me. I put my phone away, assuming I'd have to converse now.

"It's going," I said. She was talking to me as if we spoke every day.

"How can I pray for you this week?" she asked, getting out a notebook. I hesitated, nobody ever asked how I needed to be prayed for, and a year ago, I would have said I didn't need any prayer.

"Oh," I said. "Um, well, I need my leg to heal-" she started writing. "And I-I have a philosophy test tomorrow."

"Philosophy test," she repeated. "Anything else?" If I were to answer honestly, I would have poured my heart out. But I didn't.

"Just that our Nutcracker season goes well," I added. She smiled and put her things away.

"Okay, ma'am," she said. "You're welcome to come to Tuesday night Bible study anytime." I nodded and watched her walk away. Megan had been on her phone to avoid the conversation.

"What the hell was that?" she said, getting her face out of her phone. "Have you ever spoken to her before?"

"Never in my life," I said, and then I sat in thought for a moment. "You wanna skip church and go get brunch?"

Megan half scoffed, half laughed. "I was waiting for you to say that," she said.