Unpredictable (A Dance Story)

Chapter 17

I stepped into the comfortable office once more, my bag slung over my left shoulder. Jane smiled at me and I smiled back, sitting down on the couch.

"You're in a good mood," Jane commented.

"I know," I replied.

"So, did you watch the movie?" She asked.

I nodded, fishing the DVD out of my bag. "I think I get it," I said, "Dumbo was worse off than me. But he got through it."

"Almost," she said, "It's more about his ears than anything else."

"His big ears," I echoed.

"You see, Dumbo's ears were his disability. He faced the taunts that came with the big ears, but eventually learned to live with it. Not only live with it, make others jealous that HE got the big ears and THEY didn't. Dumbo could fly, but they couldn't. He used his disability to his advantage."

I gaped at her. It all made sense.

"So you're saying...Use my arm to my advantage?"

"Yes! Exactly!"

***

It was the day before the big competition and I was super nervous. As per tradition, I spent Friday afternoon with Abbie and Holden. We argued a bit about where to go. For them, school was winding down, and I kind of missed the craziness of the end of school. They filled me in on everything, of course, so it helped a bit.

"Sincerely Yogurt?" Abbie suggested.

I shook my head no, the incident with Kaela fresh in my mind. Between her and Logan, I wasn't taking my chances.

"How about that Chinese Restaurant by Rite Aid?" I suggested. "Or Applebee's?"

Abbie and Holden sighed simultaneously, and I looked from one to the other. Holden looked uncomfortable while Abbie looked exasperated. A ping of something ran through me. Sadness? Guilt? Even, dare I say, jealousy? Because I was the third wheel, of course. Not that I was jealous of them...It was just a theory, anyways...

You're rambling, Ella, I thought to myself. A side effect of nervousness for the competition.

"Well, if Ford wants Applebee's, Ford gets Applebee's," Holden said, resigned.

And that's where we went. We sat in a booth, Abbie and I on one side and Holden on the other. I slid to the end on the inside, figuring that putting the useless arm by the window would be a good plan.

"Remember this song?" Abbie asked, gazing up at the speaker in the ceiling.

"Oh yeah!" Holden exclaimed, "I hated this song!"

We laughed at the memory of one of our old jazz songs. It was the only song that Holden had openly opposed, in front of Miss Sarah! I bumped Abbie.

"Move out, I'm going to pick my own song."

"What?"

I nodded toward the electronic-looking jukebox. "Don't worry, I've got this!"

I put a quarter in the machine and poked at it, browsing the songs. I settled on a good one that I'd often dressed up and danced around to as a child: Video Killed The Radio Star.

"Nice choice," Abbie said with a laugh.

She remembered our fun days, putting on old dance costumes and feather boas and strutting around the house.

"Oh-wa-oh-wa!" I mouthed quietly.

"Don't," Abbie warned, smiling.

"Oh-wa-oh-wa!" I sang again, louder.