By her twentieth birthday, there are a few things Valarie Ricci knows for certain.
She knows that her waitressing job barely covers the costs of living out of a beat up old van. She knows she's stuck in the dead end hometown her high school friends...
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The forest air was cool and fresh as she accompanied Alice up the long driveway. They both walked slower than normal, close enough for their shoulders to brush every few steps. Soft sunlight peeked through the gaps in the trees, and the sky above was melting into a dark purple-candy orange hybrid.
"So," Valarie said. "Dancing, huh?" She wasn't sure if Alice would even respond.
A long sigh. "Ballet."
"Makes sense. I mean, the way you carry yourself. Your posture is always, like, perfect."
Alice shrugged. "My Mom used to whack us with a wooden spoon if we weren't sitting straight when we were younger. Me and Grace, I mean. My Mom used to be a professional ballerina so, of course, we got put into ballet basically as soon as we could walk. But I hated it. It'd break out in, like, anxiety rashes every time I had to go, which was basically everyday."
"Why'd you hate it so much?"
"I–It's kinda hard to describe? I don't know. There were a lot of reasons. It was just very... intense. I felt like a robot half the time, and I freaked myself out a lot. Like, I never felt like I was the one dancing." Alice smiled, but it was empty. Valarie didn't know when exactly she started noticing the differences in Alice's smiles, but it felt like the best kind of privilege. The fake ones stood out to her more and more, like they were over-rehearsed. "The worst part," she continued, "was that I was good at it, and they'd always give me the solos. So, of course, quitting meant I'd be breaking everyone's heart."
"What changed?"
"I had a bit of a diva moment." Alice laughed, but the sound was bitter and hollow. "My Mom will hopefully get over it before one of us dies. Grace was pretty good, too, but she lacked the discipline to be good enough. Or at least that's what she always got yelled at about."Another mechanical shrug. "Anyways, now the goal is to find something that nobody in my family gives a flying fuck about. Hence, I joined the chess club and all the other stuff. I need something that keeps me calm. I want to have a thing, you know? Something that's mine."
"Wow."
"What?"
"I think that's the most I've ever heard you speak at one time."
"Oh." She looked genuinely caught off guard. Her eyebrows knit together. "I didn't realise." The words sounded like an apology.
"No, it's a good thing," Valarie said. "You should do it more. I, uh, like hearing you talk." She felt like Alice could talk for hours and her attention wouldn't stray like it did after five minutes of listening to anyone else. "I assume your parents wouldn't approve of Bad Boy Movie Club?"
"I don't think they'd even understand what it is."
"Then it's perfect for your teenage rebellion." Valarie blocked the sun out of her eyes as she smiled at Alice. "I'm teaching you my ways. Soon you'll be flunking out of everything."
