Super Trouper ｡ Steve Harrington

3 : Eye of the Tiger

     Sweat soaked through her sun-yellow leotard, leaving dark patches in the bright material and making her skin flushed, warm blotches just like the hue of her dead mother's preferred shade of red. The exercise studio up on the second level of the Starcourt Mall was emptying out as the aerobics class came to a vigorous end.

     "You all were so amazing today!" Daphne Orpin sang out, still jumping around in her red legwarmers even in the gruelling heat. "We worked up a good sweat. And great job with the high kicks, Mrs Wheeler!" Daphne waved out her class, wiggling her fingers as she turned off the radio spilling out Survivor tracks. The high school dropout's skin wasn't even flushed, and her minimal sweat made her shimmer under the florescent studio lights. Jesse was spread out on the floor tying her broken shoelace back together, still catching her breath from the tough and energetic workout. Daphne always went hard when it came to aerobics, encouraging her students to push harder. No pain, no gain, ladies! One kick equals one lick of ice cream and ice cream is life! "And don't think I missed you slipping in late, Missy-Moo," she said, lowering herself down onto the floor by Jesse to stretch out her long and toned limbs. "I even saved you a spot near the front," she added. The air in the studio was stuffy and reeked of sweat and the rose air spray Daphne used to sweeten the air after each class, but both girls were used to the horrid fusion of scents now.

     "And that's prime real estate," Jesse teased sweetly, fingers twisting at the shoelace on her Reeboks. Heaven knows she couldn't afford a new pair of kicks.

     The teasing bounded right off Daphne's skin and she beamed. "Some of my students arrive half an hour early to get a good spot," she clarified with charmed pride. While Daphne didn't excel in high school, she had the perfect mixture of enthusiasm, spaz and dedication to lead exercises classes at Jazzercize. And in truth, Daphne reminded Jesse of Charlotte Winlock—her dearly departed friend from Camp Jacaranda—if only for the smile of sunshine and the corn-blonde hair, for Daphne Orpin was much louder than Charlotte had been, more spirited.

     "I'm sorry I was late, I had a little near-death experience, but you looked fantastic even from the back," Jesse said, finally attaching the two ends of the broken lace back together. She knew she was being a little melodramatic, but the melodrama was a catalyst for girl talk about her nautical knight.

     "How can any near-death experience be little?" Daphne questioned, her eyebrows drawing together over her glittering eyelids that were brushed with pastel green eyeshadow.

     "My shoelace got caught on the escalator," she started, her cheeks heating with candied blush at the fresh memory.

     Daphne gasped, pulling her arms above her head to stretch out the muscles. "That's a genuine fear of mine!" she declared. "What did you do?"

     "Besides the mild panic, nothing. A boy helped me out," she explained.

     Daphne's eyes popped, feeding on the drama. "A boy?" she breathed out, begging for more. Without high school, Daphne found that she missed the simple things: lunchtime in the cafeteria, weekends that seemed glorious and the highs and lows of adolescent drama that were more entertaining than television.

     Jesse nodded, a smile growing. "I'm shocked to learn that chivalry isn't dead too," she laughed.

     Daphne swung out her arms as Jesse pulled rolled her shoulders. After Mr Devil had dug his gleaming blade into her right shoulder, it had never been the same. It was usually always sore with a dull thudding knot, and it was worse in the winter when her muscles were less relaxed, when the chill found a way passed her skin and into her bones.

     "Please, I'm dying here," Daphne wheezed out with a rich, high giggle. "Tell me more about this chivalrous boy that saved you from the scary escalator."