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EMMA
I’m glued to my bed and feeling sorry for myself when I get the text message from Diana.
Hey, babe. Haven’t seen you for DAYS. You okay?
Been stuck in bed.
What? Are you okay?
Just having a bad time. Don’t worry about me.
Want to talk about it?
I’m okay.
Okay.
Ugh.
I hate feeling sorry for myself. It makes me guilty. There are a lot worse things happening out there in the world – things far worse than a failed dance school audition. And I shouldn’t roll around at home like this, doing nothing but wallowing in my own grief.
I’m about to throw my phone to the other side of the room when I get an unknown number call. The phone vibrates in my hand, nearly making me jump out of bed in surprise.
“Hello?”
“Is this Emma?” they ask.
I don’t recognize the voice. It’s male.
“Uh, yes. Speaking.”
“It’s Kenneth from the audition. Kenneth Thompson. You might remember me as the man who couldn’t find his car. You know, the completely useless man.”
I let out a chuckle.
Oh. Him.
“Yeah, I remember you,” I say.
“Well, I’ve got some good news for you, Emma. We’re open for you to come in for another audition tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes. Does that work for you?”
This time I leap out of bed in surprise.
“Uh, yeah. Sure. Tomorrow works for me.”
“I’ll get my assistant to email you the details,” Kenneth says. “Good luck. And maybe this time you should get some new shoes. Just my humble advice.”
“Yep, sure, will do. That does sound like a good idea.”
“Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
“Thank you, Kenneth. Thank you.”
“Emma, don’t let me down this time,” he says. “You told me you love to dance, so make sure you show it tomorrow. Show us how you are the exception.”
