Ameera, Unveiled Read Online Free PDF Page B

too.”
    “’Night, Cheryl. Good night, Super Polly,” I said.
    I couldn’t wait to tell Steve about our new class over wine and Dancing with the Stars.

    The two weeks since our last class had flown by.
    I checked the time as I pulled up in front of Sybil’s house. I’d sent an e-mail to the girls giving them directions and promising to be there early to help them find the studio. Polly’s car pulled in behind mine. With my dance bag on my shoulder, I walked toward her car. Polly quit checking herself out in the mirror and opened her door.
    “Hey, girl,” Polly greeted. “Ready to lock ’n’ roll?”
    I smiled at her pun, but before I could answer, another set of headlights pulled up behind Polly’s car.
    “There’s Cheryl,” I said, waving to her. Cheryl jumped out of her car with a positive bounce.
    “Glad y’all found it,” I said.
    “Wow, look at that oak tree,” Cheryl remarked as we passed a mystical tree laden with Spanish moss glowing in the October sunset. I led them through two more doors and opened the final entrance to Sybil’s studio.
    “This is so cool,” Cheryl said. She headed straight to some pictures hanging on the wall. “Wow! Look at her. I wonder where she was dancing in that one.” We looked over Cheryl’s shoulder at a candid black-and-white photograph of Sybil performing in a club.
    As if on cue, the hallway door opened and Sybil joined us.
    “Hey, ladies. Obviously, everyone found my house okay.” As one, we turned to give her our attention.
    “What a great place, Sybil,” Polly said.
    “I love the oak,” Cheryl added. We were all tying on coin scarves.
    Sybil ushered us into her studio. She pulled out a dry erase marker from a desk drawer, walked to her closet mirrors, and wrote, “December 6 at 7:00 p.m.” Dutifully, I pulled out my journal and wrote down the date. I assumed it was for the nursing home performance.
    “Let’s stretch and chat,” Sybil suggested as she sat on the floor. “The home’s so excited about the Christmas visit,” she said, leaning forward with a stretch. “I want the three of you to do the Shakira dance. I’ve got students from my Wednesday class who’ll be performing the same dance after you. So let’s focus on this dance, and afterward we’ll move on. Also, the troupe’s performing at the Coastal Carolina Fair on November 4. If you haven’t seen Palmetto Oasis, this is a good chance. We’ll be using a lot of the North Charleston dances from the May show.”
    My mind was spinning.
    “One more thing. A lot of dancers adopt a dancing name. Mine is Saaraa. There are Arabic websites you can search. Find a dance name that says something about you. I’ll give you till next Monday.” Sybil paused. “Okay, let’s dance, ladies,” she ended and, like a hummingbird, flitted to her CD player and stood at the front of the room.
    We renewed our dance drill and ran through each part Sybil had decided to hone for forty-five minutes. As we cooled down, I mentally counted each Monday that would inch me toward the dreaded nursing home performance.
    “Okay, ladies,” Sybil excused us. “You know what to do. Practice and pick a dance name.”
    After grabbing bags, we retraced our steps to the cars.
    “Geez, does she ever stop throwing curves?” I asked. I opened the wooden gate and headed to my car.
    “I hope not,” Polly said, knocking me with her hip.
    I didn’t feel as confident as Polly did. What did a brand-new dancer have to offer to an expectant audience anyway?

4
    To: PollyG
December 2
Hey, got my silk veil today. What a huge difference from the training chiffon veil. She’s fluorescent hot pink and floats like a cloud. I’ve named her Pink Panther. Pink, for short (ha!). See you on December 4 for dress rehearsal at Sybil’s. Hope our matching shirts get here.
    To: Katbox
December 4
Hey, got my shirt. Want to run through the dance before dress rehearsal tonight? Cheryl said she has hers too.

    I couldn’t believe the