Chapter Seven

                                    

                                          
Maddie POV:
                          
“Maddie, show her how to do it!” Abby ordered after Sarah Hunt butchered her turn sequence for the fourth time in a row. Reluctantly I performed it, nearly falling out of it myself. Usually I had no issue with turns but lately I’d been lagging on everything dance related. “Maddie, what are you doing?!” She shouted then asked another girl to demonstrate instead. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you! You haven’t done anything right lately!”
                          
“Sorry.” I muttered, trying the sequence again in the corner just to make sure I could do it. That time I didn’t fall out, but of course Abby wasn’t looking so I couldn’t prove to her that I could. She’d been extra hard on me lately and it sucked.
                          
Later in the rehearsal, my mind drew a blank and I totally forgot a section of that dance that we’d learned the day before. Saying Abby was furious was the understatement of the century. She dismissed everyone else to go get a drink and demanded to have a word with me.
                          
“What is wrong with you?!” She retorted, her nostrils flaring and her eyes glaring at me with anger.
                          
“I’m just having an off day. I’m sorry.”
                          
“Well get it together!” She snapped. “You’re supposed to be the leader! What happened to the twelve year old Maddie who was dancing circles around all the other kids? You’re slacking and it’s pissing me off because I know you can do better!” I wanted to cry but I knew I couldn’t break down in front of her because she’d yell more and tell me to save my tears for the pillow.
                          
“Sorry…” Her expression showed that sorry wasn’t enough.
                          
“Don’t say you’re sorry. Prove it.” Thankfully nothing else completely horrific happened for the rest of the rehearsal.
                          
When I got home, Mackenzie was there by herself. Mom and Greg were out at an anniversary party for Greg’s work. She was on the couch watching a movie and snacking on some fiery Lays. We should have known from the start that she was going to choose staying home and eating chips over dancing.
                          
“Hey, Kenz.” I greeted, dropping my dance bag by the front door and joining her on the couch.
                          
“Hey. How was dance?” I simply rolled my eyes at her question.
                          
“I’ve had my fill of Miss Abby.”
                          
“Well it’s about time.” She was so sarcastic all of the time. “I knew one day you were going to break.” I shrugged.
                          
“She expects way too much from me.”
                          
“She always expected me to be just like you…it’s a tough gig. I was never going to be you. That’s why I quit.”
                          
“Sorry…”
                          
“It’s fine. I never felt the same way about dance that you did…” Did. It was past tense. It was true that I’d been falling out of love with dance the past few years. Apparently my sister had noticed too.