Chapter Text
“Mom! You forgot the iPad!” came a high-pitched whine from the backseat.
“What?” Katya glanced back at her six-year-old through the rearview mirror, strapped into her booster seat & straining to rifle through a purple duffle bag.
“It’s not in here!”
“You’ll live, Shosh. It’s only a ten minute drive.”
“I won’t,” she pouted, crossing her arms. Katya sighed— her daughter had certainly inherited her flair for the dramatic.
Knowing Shoshanna would forget about the lost iPad soon enough, Katya turned her attention back to the road, anxiously biting the inside of her bottom lip as she maneuvered her way through the early rush hour traffic.
She knew it would be a pain in the ass to settle into the school year routine, but she hadn’t expected just how frantic every afternoon would be. Shoshanna starting kindergarten meant that Katya’s workday had become compressed from eight hours to six— no less work, just less time to do it in. She swore up & down she wouldn’t have her daughter raised by nannies— not that she could afford it anyway— but that meant leaving work at 3 & racing to pick her up from school to have her to dance by 4. Of course, that also meant that sometimes she forgot to pack the iPad or the right flavor of juice box or the particular leotard Shosh wanted to wear that day.
“Jesus, mother fuck—!” Katya slammed on her brakes as an Audi cut in front of her. “Turn signal, asshole!”
“Mom, language,” Shoshanna warned sternly.
“Sorry,” she grumbled, running a hand through her shoulder-length blonde bob & causing her bangs to stick up sideways. Clicking the signal to turn into the dance studio lot, Katya hoped she’d have time to run down the street to Starbucks while Shoshanna was in class. Most of the moms stayed around, watching their kids through the one-way glass & sniping back & forth about whose little princess deserved what role. Neither petty competition, nor bitching about rich husbands piqued Katya’s interest, so she was all-too-happy to play the loner role— either sitting in the lobby on her laptop or walking down the street to get coffee by herself.
Her daughter was just like her— independent, assertive, determined, & a little off-the-wall. Unfortunately, that also made her a bit of an outcast, but Katya was proud of her for it. Despite her hesitation about enrolling her in dance classes in the ritziest neighborhood in the city, Katya knew it was what she deserved. Her talent reminded her so much of her own as a little girl, & she wasn’t going to let the fact that she didn’t fit in with the other mothers stop Shoshanna from reaching her full potential.
Shosh barreled confidently through the front door, dance bag slung over her shoulder. “Well, hey, miss thing!” Alyssa, the owner of the studio, chirped in her direction.
“Hi, Miss Alyssa!” she waved, stringy blonde ponytail bouncing with each step she took toward the changing room.
“Long day, lady?” Alyssa drawled, turning her attention toward Katya.
“Huh?”
Alyssa motioned toward the blonde woman’s hair. “Oh!” she laughed, reaching up to smooth down her wild bangs. “Yeah, work & traffic &...” she trailed off, motioning her hand around the room.
“I know how that goes! I just hired a new teacher on a trial basis, though— for Shosh’s age group! Hopefully that’ll get things a little more organized around this zoo!”
“Mmmm,” Katya nodded politely. “Maybe.” All she could think about was her need for caffeine. Miss Alyssa had a reputation for being the best teacher in the city— & probably in the state at large, so she wasn’t worried— whoever she’d hired would be good.
“Want to stay around & watch?” Alyssa asked. “I’m very interested in what y’all think of her before I make a decision about keeping her on full time.”
“Um… I have to run an errand, but then I’ll duck back in?” Katya offered. Alyssa was the only person at the studio who’d ever been friendly to Katya, so the nagging voice in her head told her she owed her one.
“You got it!” Alyssa patted her on the shoulder as headed down the hall, leaving Katya to her Starbucks run.
When she returned twenty minutes later, venti Americano in hand, Katya headed for the side door to the studio— the one that led straight to the observation room the moms congregated in. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to quell the anxiety creeping up her throat, she pulled the door open & tried to enter as quietly as possible. The squeaky hinges gave her away, however, & she was met with nine pairs of eyes simultaneously swinging in her direction. Aside from a couple of eye rolls, no one acknowledged her, simply returning to whatever inane conversations they’d been having before she’d interrupted.
She never knew exactly what kept these suburban moms from accepting her— not that she wanted to be one of them, anyway, but still. Was it the fact that she was a career woman who owned her own art gallery downtown? Her self-cut choppy hair & messy black eyeshadow? The fact that she drove a Nissan instead of a Jaguar or a Range Rover? She told herself these were the reasons, not wanting to let herself get angry at what she knew was probably closer to the truth— she was an unmarried woman, one who never talked about her daughter’s father, never brought a date to dance recitals. Katya had learned all-too-early upon moving to suburban Dallas that it wasn’t the place to chase women… they all had pearls around their necks, sticks up their asses, & George W. Bush’s politics in their heads.
Even in her smart black blazer & slacks, Katya felt like she stuck out like a sore thumb in the observation room. She took a seat on the end of the front bench & pressed her lips to the red print on the rim of her Starbucks cup, more breathing in the steam than actually taking a drink. Scanning the room, she found Shoshanna in the middle of a line of girls sitting on the floor, their legs extended before them in V-shapes with varying degrees of grace. Her daughter’s face was scrunched up in concentration, the cheekbones that mirrored her own especially sharp as she focused on the stretch.
“That hair, though,” someone scoffed from somewhere behind her, & another woman chuckled quietly.
“Right? Talk about trying too hard.”
Katya whipped her head around, fearing they were talking about her— or worse, Shoshanna.
“Don’t you think, Katya?” a cardigan-clad brunette sneered.
“Huh?”
The woman pointed toward the new teacher, where she knelt, gently straightening a girl’s hips. Katya’s eyes widened as she looked her up & down— scuffed tap shoes, tight grey yoga pants, white tank top that clung to her curvaceous body, & mess of cotton candy colored hair piled into a loose bun atop her head. “What about her?”
“Her hair is so tacky. I’m surprised Alyssa wouldn’t hire someone a little classier.”
“It looks fine to me,” Katya shot back, turning her attention to the pink-haired teacher who was now giggling along with the girls.
Katya sucked softly on the lip of her coffee cup. She’d already bitten all her nails down to the quick & since she couldn’t smoke in the studio, she needed something else to occupy her nervous mouth. Leaning down with her elbows atop her knees, Katya watched Shosh practice— she was clearly one of the strongest girls in her class, & though Katya would never consider herself anything close to a stage mom, she internally gloated at how hard Shosh was showing the other girls up.
The new teacher must’ve noticed, too, as she motioned for her to come to the front of the room. Head held high, Shosh pranced up to her side & listened, nodding as she talked. The teacher began a step, slowly pulling her right leg back, then shuffling it forward to meet the hardwood floor. Katya didn’t know if she or Shoshanna watched more intently as she pulled it back to tap the floor again before shifting her weight to the other leg & stomping down. Katya could hear the muffled taps through the glass & leaned in closer. The teacher moved once more in slow motion before turning to Shoshanna & smiling warmly.
The little blonde mimicked her movements tentatively at first— shuffle, tap, shuffle, tap, switch, step. Katya’s fingertip absentmindedly drummed out the rhythm on the side of her cup. After a few cycles, Shoshanna had quickly gotten the hang of it & was repeating the step seamlessly. The teacher clapped her hands together in glee & ruffled Shoshanna’s messy ponytail before pointing back to the group of girls who stood before them. As she ran back to the group, Shoshanna was oblivious to the eye rolls she received from her classmates.
Katya needed away. It was one thing for her to take that treatment from the snotty mothers, but to watch her daughter take it from their kids was too much. She stood silently & pushed the heavy door open, escaping into the parking lot, where she was met with a sudden flood of sunlight. “Jesus,” she muttered to herself, squinting against its rays.
Leaning against the building, Katya lit a cigarette. Then another. Before she knew it, the mothers & daughters began to trickle out the front door. Shoshanna was always the last kid out, loving to stay behind & help Miss Alyssa clean up. When Katya rounded the building & stuck her head through the front door, she found Shosh & Alyssa digging through a giant bin of props in the lobby, & Alyssa waved her off with a smile & a silent assurance that she was fine.
Katya returned to her perch near the side exit, away from the parking lot hustle & bustle, & lit another cigarette. She refused to smoke around her daughter, but her nerves were on edge, so she took advantage of the alone time. Not even a third of the way into the cigarette, the side door swung open, just narrowly missing Katya’s face. She jumped back, ready to yell, before she saw the soft pink hair of the perpetrator.
“Those’ll kill you, you know,” she smirked.
“Wow, no one ever told me,” Katya deadpanned.
The woman giggled— a girlish, high-pitched squeal— & pulled her duffle bag up higher on her shoulder, tap shoes slung over the strap. “Well, now you know.”
Katya nodded, lips curling into a smile she couldn’t stop from forming. “You were great in there.”
“Hm?”
“With the kids.”
“Oh! Which one is yours?”
“Shoshanna,” Katya turned her head to exhale in the opposite direction of the woman.
“Ah! She’s so fun!” Trixie gushed. “She’s really good! Like, actually talented!”
Katya felt a blush creep across her cheeks & lowered her eyes. “Thanks.”
“Where is she?”
“Oh, uh,” Katya stammered. “She’s inside with Alyssa— those two get along better than she gets along with anyone in her class.”
“I could’ve guessed,” she nodded. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you one of the crazy dance moms?” she whispered conspiratorially.
Katya scoffed. “Ha! Far from it.”
“Well… that’s probably a good thing…” she trailed off. “I’m Trixie, by the way,” she extended her hand.
“Katya.” As their hands clasped, Katya’s eyes bored into the younger woman’s.
“That’s a pretty name,” she smiled, surprising Katya by keeping the intense eye contact.
“Mmmmm.” Katya hummed, reluctantly letting go of Trixie’s hand. Say something! she mentally chastised herself, but her brain refused to let her mouth form words.
“Well… hopefully I’ll be seeing more of you?” Trixie pulled her keys from the front pocket of her bag.
“Yeah… me too… I mean… um, you will.”
Trixie smiled sweetly & wiggled her fingers in a tiny wave before heading toward the parking lot. Katya waited until she’d safely rounded the corner before leaning back into the hard brick wall & sighing aloud. “You idiot,” she groaned to herself. “Id. I. Ot.”