Page 5 of Colliding with Ten

“Hi,” she said. “Here for auditions?”

“Yes.”

She handed me a form. “Name?”

“Ayla Callahan.”

Her pen paused, but her expression stayed professional. “Okay. Fill this out. You’ll get a number. Warm-ups are in Studio B.”

I pinned the number to my shirt and walked into Studio B after filling out the form. The room had sprung floors and mirrors along two walls. Dancers were already warming up. Music played in another studio. I set my phone down and prepared.

By the time auditions started, I was already sweating. Taking a break from dancing had left me rusty. My extensions weren’t as high as I wanted, and my stamina was weak. But I was dancing, moving not with as much energy, but with enthusiasm. And the more I moved, the more I remembered.

The judges sat at a long table near the front, but I barely saw them as I got lost in the music. I danced the choreography that had been churning in my mind for the past few weeks, and when I was done, I was near tears. After the first cut, I expected to be thanked and released. But they called my number to stay. A pleasant surprise. The second round was choreography. My body loved it. And by the time we broke into small groups, my cheeks hurt from smiling.

When they called my group, I stepped onto the floor. The music started, and I stopped focusing on my problems and what everyone wanted from me. My body snapped into the first count. I danced, and my father’s voice couldn't reach me here. When the combination ended, they thanked me, and I nodded, breathless.

“Thank you.”

And that was it. If it was the end, I had to be fine with it.

A few days later, I was sitting by the breakfast bar in the kitchen with AJ and having a cup of juice when the email notification for the NEW YORK HAWKS FLIGHT CREW AUDITIONS appeared on my phone. I looked at the subject line and was startled.

“What’s up?” AJ asked from the counter as he made a protein shake.

“Nothing.” If I didn’t make it, AJ had no reason to know I had disappointed myself again. I set the glass down and opened the email.

Dear Ayla,

Thank you for attending auditions for the New York Hawks Flight Crew. We are pleased to invite you to continue in the next phase of the selection process . . .

I stopped reading. My heart shot up into my throat. AJ saw the look on my face.

“What happened?”

“I got picked.”

His eyebrows drew together. “For what?”

“The Flight Crew.”

He fell silent, and I looked up.

AJ looked at me with a frown. “The cheer squad?”

“The dance team,” I corrected.

His jaw tensed.

“It’s not the final squad,” I added. “It’s just the next phase. There are a few more cuts. I probably won’t make it.”

His gaze bore into me. “That’s the same organization I play for.”

“I noticed the bird logos, yes.”

“Ayla, you can’t work for the same organization as me.”

I figured he would say that. AJ had insisted on very separate lives since high school.