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Gloria, one of the other dancers, was standing right in front of my bed with two pale mugs. She had a freckled face and large lips. She smiled at me, and extended one of the cups. “It’s coffee. We heard you both laughing like a bunch of wild chickens, and I came to the rescue.”
I squinted at her. “Why?” My mouth felt like it was full of cotton, and there was a sour taste that coated my tongue and throat. I could only imagine what my breath smelled like.
Gloria’s smile faltered. “You’re going to watch with the rest of us, aren’t you?”
I stared at the girl. “Watch what?”
She smiled brightly. “The only thing we can watch: tonight the mentors are announcing the new tournament candidates.”
A sobering freeze washed over me. I couldn’t believe I had forgotten. That was what I was supposed to do today.
“How long were we asleep?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. Magda was still asleep on my lap and I needed her to wake up. I started shaking her shoulder just as Gloria said, “About an hour or two.”
Magda stirred on my legs, and I saw the string of drool connecting her lips to my thigh. I resisted the urge to laugh. Any loud noises were going to make my head feel worse.
“Magdalena, get up,” I grumbled. My eyes hurt, and my body was breaking out in chills. I absolutely hated feeling like this.
Magdalena mumbled something I couldn’t understand.
Gloria laughed. “Well, it’s probably already started. The music just ended. Come down when the two of you are finished coming back from the dead. I’ll leave these here.” She set the two cups of coffee next to the wine bottle on the small desk on the foot of my bed. A grunt escaped her when she walked over the sticky patch where Magda had spilled wine. She smiled one last time before traipsing out of our room and shutting our door entirely too hard.
I paused, looked at the coffee cups, and shook Magdalena once more.
“Levántate, Magda,” I said. My voice sounded so hoarse. I shook her shoulder and wiggled my legs until her body slid off. Perhaps it was a bit aggressive, but I did want to see the broadcast.
If I were being honest, a part of me wanted to see Antonio. I wanted to see which person he would choose. Since I had met all of the other candidates the day of the audition, I was sure I would recognize whoever his choice was.
I finished pushing my childhood friend off of me, and attempted to stand up. The world tilted sideways, and I grabbed the wooden bed frame in order to stay standing.
“Wheryagoin?” Magda mumbled. Her face was mostly pressed into a pillow.
I turned around, looking at the mess of her normally silky hair and smiled. “We need to go downstairs. The mentor broadcast is starting soon.”
Magdalena sat up. “Right.” She fell back down immediately.
I laughed, and slid my feet into my familiar slippers. I reached over and grabbed her arm. There was little resistance when I dragged her out of the bed.
Once she was half-way on her feet, half-way leaning on me, I smiled. She looked up at me. “Do you feel better?”
Goodness, our breath was absolutely atrocious. I refrained from inhaling as I said, “Sure.”
That answer was good enough for now. We started forward, and I was grateful for how soft my steps were in my slippers. It was really nice not to have to deal with the harsh clacks of our regular shoes.
When we closed the door, I tried to make as few sounds as possible. It wasn’t until I was in the hallway that I heard the voices of the other girls. It would be absolutely mind-splitting to have to listen to them all night. I considered turning back.
Magda sniffed the air. “Was there coffee somewhere?”
“Damn,” I huffed. I reopened the door, and hobbled with Magda back to the spot where the coffee was sitting on the front of the bed. With each step, my friend woke up more. She was able to walk on her own two feet, which was immensely relieving for me. I took a sip of the bark-brown liquid. It didn’t have any sugar. Then I picked up the bollo bread next to the cup.
I tore it open and luxuriated in the savory bread smell for a second before taking a bite.
One shout from the girls downstairs told me that the broadcast was already into full swing. Magda looked more alive by the second. Each sip gave her skin another hint of her natural glow. She glanced toward the door. “Should we go?” she asked.
I smiled and nodded.
With our bread and coffee in hand, we walked back out into the hallway, and headed downstairs.
In the kitchen, which was always full of people and food, there were ten girls, and four boys huddled together. I didn’t see Maestra Cecelia, which I thought was strange, but I imagined she would watch from the small screen in her office. The screen in here wasn’t much better, with the crack in the gray-tinted glass and the popping speakers, but the space could accommodate us all.
