Against All Odds - No We Can.

Against All Odds - Chapter One.

Authors Note: Hey Everyone! I'm so excited to be working in partnership with NCS on their No We Can Anthology competition. NCS is a once in a lifetime summer experience designed for 16 to 17 year olds in England and Northern Ireland! The term No We Can is all about empowering young people to achieve whatever they want, despite sometimes being told no.

Below is my No We Can story, and I'd love it if you also took part in the competition too! For more information and for a chance to become a published writer in the NCS anthology (how frickin' cool!), check out my tips and advice on the next page.

*****
Chapter One

The afternoon had flown by in a matter of seconds. I remember the fall, the excruciating pain followed by the sirens and headlights of the ambulance. I remember looking down at my feet, studying the swelling on them with tears brimming my eyes. After numerous x-rays and observations, I finally hear the words of a dancer's worst nightmare —

"I'm sorry Layne, you might never dance again."

I blink once, twice, three times in total shock. My mouth falls open and a silence falls upon us in the hospital room. Mum is the first person to speak, her voice lined with sorrow.

"Are you sure? Isn't there anything you can do?"

The doctor responds, explaining how I've severely damaged the tendons along with the ligaments in my foot. Eventually I zone out, his words a muffled sound in my ears. The sound intensifies, almost deafening me in the process. I scrunch my face up in pain and confusion, unable to believe his words.

You might never dance again.

"You have to be wrong. I've been dancing since I was two years old!" I suddenly protest, fresh tears falling from my eyes and down my cheeks. The doctor seems taken aback by my sudden reaction, but then his features soften in sympathy.

"I'm sorry Layne, I know it's not what you wanted to hear," he responds, reaching forward to place his hand over mine. A small whimper leaves me, and I lie down, turning my back on my parents and my doctor. Dancing is my one true love in life and has been ever since I can remember. I hear the doctor sigh before his footsteps retreat and the door shuts behind him.

"Layne, honey, it's going to be okay," Dad says softly behind me. I shake my head, wrapping my arms around my trembling body.

"It's never going to be okay. I've been dancing for fifteen years and because of one stupid mistake, I might never dance again. My career has gone, and I'll lose my job at the dance studio along with all of my friends," I sob. My parents start to comfort me, doing their best to soften the blow with their words full of hope. Despite their best efforts, the doctor's words continue to ring in my head over and over again, playing on a loop.

"You might never dance again."

*****
8 months later

"Hey Layne," my best friend Izzie waves over to me as she walks through the dance studio reception, a gym duffle bag swung over her shoulder. I smile and wave at her, feeling the same saddening pang hit my chest as I watch her head for the dance studio.

"Hey Izzie, have a good session," I say half-heartedly, shuffling paperwork into a neat pile. After the accident, I couldn't face leaving the dance studio, so they hired me as their receptionist. This way I get to earn some money and see my friends regularly.

The downside of my new job is painstakingly watching my friends dance every single day and being unable to join them. I haven't step foot inside the dance studio for months, however if I turn in my chair to the right, I have a full view through the glass doors. The sunlight streaming in through the long bay windows bouncing off the wooden floor, the shine almost mocking me. I release a heavy sigh, my heart breaking as the doctor's words continue to play over in my head.

"You might never dance again."

I shuffle backwards on my office chair and glance down at my feet, studying them. There is a chance, I sometimes tell myself, that you could dance again.

"How can I let one person decide my entire future? You can still dance, right?" I murmur quietly, shuffling my feet backwards and forwards. I've been longing to dance for what feels like years. I close my eyes and breathe in deeply, reminding myself of what my doctor told me and I remember what I asked him before I left the hospital.

Is there a chance I could dance again even if all the odds are stacked up against me?

His response was meant to give me hope, I think, but it didn't. It couldn't because even the slight chance of a future where I couldn't dance was painful to hear.

"You could, but it will require a lot of mental strength to build yourself back up, and a lot of training. I can't promise that that wouldn't make it worse," he said solemnly. The look on my parents' face said it all – they wouldn't want me to make anything worse.

"Morning Layne."

The voice interrupts me, and my eyes fling open in surprise. My mouth falls open slightly as I realise Noah Scott is stood in front of me looking slightly amused. His brown eyes sparkle in his usual charming way and I automatically sit up straighter.

"Hey Noah. Are you ... erm ... dancing today?" I ask, automatically kicking myself. Of course he's dancing today, he's at the dance studio Layne. Duh.

Noah smiles and nods his head, his eyes flashing with amusement.

"That's what I've come to do." He chuckles, lifting his gym bag so I can see it. I nod my head, holding back an internal scream. For a brief second, we hold eye contact and I feel like I'm transported back to dancing before the accident. Noah had just started at the dance studio and was assigned to be my dancing partner.

Individually we were good, but together we became something amazing.

Before we got a chance to compete in the finals the accident happened and everything vanished. Noah continues to dance but with a different partner and, I simply sit here and watch him through the glass doors, only slightly envious.

"Hey, Layne?" Noah suddenly says, taking me by surprise. His head is slightly tilted to the side and he has the look of wonder written across his face.

"Yeah?" I respond.

"Do you want to dance together after work?"

I'm suddenly snapped back into my harsh reality and I look at him, blinking in surprise.

"I - I can't, you know that. The doctor said I can't."

"You could give it a shot, and he never said can't, he said might not." Noah says, his eyes flickering between mine as he searches them for a reaction. I bite down on my lower lip, pondering my decision. Silence falls upon us and eventually Noah begins to wander off in the direction of the changing rooms. Before he disappears, he calls out over his shoulder —

"You could do it, Layne. You just need to rebuild your confidence. I'll be there at four, it'd be nice if you joined me."