Page 11 of I Don't Need Your Love
Am I supposed to get on my hands and knees and beg every teacher to be our coach? Maybe they accept bribery? But if I want my team to be good, I’ll need someone who actually has a background in dance.
“I guess I’ll see what I can do,” I say as I get up.
“Return here once you have a coach and five members so I can make it official. And Carly, I’m impressed. It’s great to see you passionate about something related to school.”
“Thanks.”
I wish her a good day and walk out of her office in a daze. I don’t know which teacher could possibly be interested in being our coach, but there’s no point in being pessimistic. I’ll have toask my favorite teachers if they’d be willing to do it, and if they say no, I’ll have to…well, I don’t know.
But I won’t give up without at least trying.
***
Sophie and I make our way to the school library after classes. Since I couldn’t find information about the dance team online, I want to check out some of the old yearbooks to see what it was like. And Sophie is in desperate need of more books. The girl reads like a million books a month. She doesn’t have tutoring today and practically salivated at the idea of joining me in the library.
She disappears into the fantasy section while I head to where the yearbooks are stashed. I asked a few secretaries in the office if they knew what year the school had a dance team, and they told me it couldn’t have been more than fifteen years ago. So I grab all the yearbooks from the past fifteen years and stack them up on a table in the back.
I start flipping through them. I’m supposed to be focused on searching for the dance team, but I can’t help but get caught up in everything. I haven’t seen any yearbooks from this school before, and it’s obvious they put a lot of work into them. It’s cool to see what the students’ lives were like, even though they were only a few years ago. So much has changed in just ten years.
I must be glued to the yearbooks for over half an hour before someone slams something on the table, making me nearly jump to the roof. It’s Sophie with a stack of books.
“I can’t believe they don’t have the sequel,” she complains as she slides onto the chair next to me. “How am I supposed to move on with my life after the author left such a cliffhanger?” She grabs the strands of her chocolate brown hair and groans. “I could barely sleep last night because I needed to know what happened to the main character. She got stabbed by a dragonclaw, Carly. And the love interest held her limp body in his arms as she bled out.”
“Can’t you just google what happened to her?” I ask as I turn a page of the yearbook.
She releases a strong gasp and nearly falls out of her seat. “What did you just say?”
“Google it?”
This time, she does fall out of her seat and lies sprawled on the floor. “Congratulations. You just killed me.”
“What did I say?” I nudge her with my black school shoe.
“Did you suggest I spoil the book for myself?” she asks, eyes shut tight.
“Uh, yes. You were nearly having a heart attack because you needed to know if the main character died. That would be the definition of spoiling it for yourself. So google it, duh.”
Her blue eyes snap open and she lifts her head off the floor. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.” She drags herself off the floor and says, “I’m going to complain to someone. If all books in a series are available, there’s no reason why the library shouldn’t have them. Are they really trying to torture their students?” she grumbles as she walks away.
I laugh and shake my head as I put my attention back on the yearbooks. I recognize some of the names of the students. They’re siblings and family members of students who go here now. But I don’t see any dance team.
“Darn it,” I say as I move on to the last one. It’s from seven years ago.
“Unbelievable.” Sophie slams herself back in her seat. “Mrs. Yang told me she didn’t know the book had a sequel. How can she call herself a librarian when she doesn’t know the book has a sequel?!”
“Oh my gosh, I found it,” I say.
“You did? Ooh, let me see.”
We squish closer together and study the photos and read all about them. They were a really good team and won nationals. There’s even a clipping of a newspaper article that featured them. They have such beautiful and kickbutt uniforms and they look like they had so much fun.
“I’m kind of jealous of them even though I hate dance,” Sophie says with a laugh. “They look really close and like they had an amazing time.”
“I want that, too,” I say as I hug the yearbook to my chest. “I want to be the choreographer of a super tight-knit team. Like a family.”
“And I know your dreams will come true.” Sophie squeezes her cheek to mine. “Because you’re awesome and you deserve it.”
“Thanks.”
