Chapter 67: Postscript

As she looked around the dazzling, obviously brand new surroundings in the waiting room, Carly Brewer tried to be interested in all of the photos, mounted posters and even some ballet shoes under a lit glass dome. But the truth was, all she wanted to do was move.

Not dance, necessarily; she would have been perfectly content to skip around the spacious parking area atop this amazing hill? Mountain? Plateau? She had no idea. But she did know this was the go-to place on the West Coast for serious dancers, cheerleaders and whatever it was she was to train and polish their skill. And since she and her family were now stuck in Daytown, that they would be here eventually was never a question.

“My goodness! What a spectacular view!” Rhonda Brewer said as she stood at window that served as an overlook. Carly couldn’t see what she saw, but it was miles of Daytown turning into Bakersfield turning into some other place she did not yet know.

What Rhonda Brewer did not think about – but those who constructed this place did – was that the light outside served to silhouette anyone who stood there. And Lord help them if they were female and they had on a light summer dress.

Like Rhonda Brewer.

“Mom, you know you...” Carly began to warn her that she was putting on a show. But then caught herself.

What the fuck. Let people enjoy the view, right? she told herself. At that point, she realized she was getting a kick out of it herself. Unlike her compact, almost muscular perfection, Rhonda Brewer was a classic beauty; long legs and long waist, narrow hips and an ass that Carly would envy until the day she died.

“Stop swinging your feet. Sit still,” Rhonda said without turning around.

Sit still was something Carly could never do, and her mother knew it.

“How did you know I was swinging my feet?” the teen said as she planted them on the floor as best she could.

“Reflection in the glass, silly,” Rhonda Brewer turned around and she actually was wearing a smile – something Carly rarely saw.

“You sure seem happy to be here,” Carly said.

“I enjoy being around all of this dancing memorabilia,” Rhonda said as she walked over and saw down next to her blonde daughter. “Reminds me of those days...”

“Why did you quit dancing? I never knew,” Carly asked. I never cared, either.

“Carly, I know you don’t care about my life story. Don’t pretend you do. It’s not nice,” Rhonda said, stiffening and looking straight ahead.

The Brewers were still sitting there in stony silence when two more young women entered the room. One girl was nearly six feet tall; the other wore unbelievable heels that allowed her to approximate the other’s height. The tall girl, a striking blond with dark eyebrows, wore a flowing skirt, while the other, a brunette, wore a tight miniskirt with stockings.

“Have you been waiting long?” the dark-haired girl asked the Brewers. Carly just shook her head.

“Haven’t seen anyone yet,” Rhonda admitted. “We had an appointment time, and the place was unlocked. I’m guessing it’s not deserted.”

“We had an appointment, too,” the dark hair girl said. “I’m Mac – McKenzie. She’s Jane.”

“Carly.”

“Her name’s Carling,” her mom said unnecessarily. “I’m Rhonda.”

“MOM!” Carly said sourly and turned away.

“She hates her name,” Rhonda said, accurately.

“Carling Brewer? Wonder why?” Jane said, sarcasm evident. Carly liked her immediately.

“Long story,” Rhonda said.

“Don’t tell it,” Carly said almost immediately.

“Are you here for an interview, too?” Rhonda asked, not flustered at all by her daughter. “We just moved to town.”

“Yeah, well, we just got here, too,” Mac said with a glance towards her blonde companion. “We’re looking for a new, high-level school and Susan Castle comes highly recommended.”

Mac reached over and took Jane’s hand. They gazed into each other’s eyes, so neither saw Rhonda and Carly glance at one another.

At that point, a door swung open and a woman all four decided must be the daughter or assistant of Susan Castle came in. She was certainly dressed like one who danced; heels that required practice, a short skirt and Carly was the first to notice the absence of a bra.

She walked directly to Rhonda Brewer and extended her hand.

“Miss Brewer? I’m Susan Castle,” she said as they shook.

“My! I was expecting someone...” she stammered.

“Older? I understand,” she gave a brilliant smile to the woman. “I guess I’ve managed to stay young through dance.”

She looked over at the young girl, who seemed frozen in place.

“You must be Carly,” Susan said, extending her hand. Carly was frozen in place by her nerves, but recovered in time to give the teacher an overly vigorous handshake.

“P-Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Carly said. “It’s an honor.”

“Thank you for saying that,” Susan said. “I’m glad to know I still have a reputation to live up to.”

“I’m McKenzie Denton,” the dark-haired girl said from across the room.

“I’ll be with you in a minute,” Susan said over her shoulder. Turning back to the Brewers, she added, “You’ve already pre-registered, so we’ll just have to give you a little bit of tryout to see what level you need to begin at.”

“Tryout?” Carly looked at her mother with alarm.

“We understand,” Rhonda said. “She has a special skill set she must work on.”

“I understand. Competition cheerleader; whew,” Susan shook her head with a smile. “That’s tough on a girl’s body.”

“I’ve held up okay,” Carly said sullenly.

“Any surgeries?” Susan asked, eyebrows raised.

“A couple,” Carly shrugged. “A few years ago. Before I got smarter about training.”

“Meaning what exactly?” asked Susan, intrigued. Carly glanced at her mother, who nodded.

“I gave up full contact martial arts,” she said.

“You know martial arts?” Susan asked, surprised. “That’s different – at least among my dance students.”

“That’s my fault,” Rhonda said. “I took up martial arts when I gave up dancing, and I didn’t discourage her from doing some of my training.”

“Pretty good, huh?” Susan grinned.

“I can kill you 27 different ways,” Rhonda said, freezing the smile on Susan’s face. “My sister, Sharon, is a tiny thing, and she’s so good it scares me”

“I only know 14 ways to kill someone,” Carly said. “But I’m getting there.”

“Do not fuck with that girl,” Jane muttered to Mac on the other side of the room.

“Or her mom,” Mac muttered back.

“But your focus is on competition cheerleading, though, right?” Susan was asking.

“Yes, ma’am. I haven’t done any martial arts training at all for the last six months,” Carly said. “That thing that happened was just an accident.”

“You want to tell me about it?” Susan asked, sitting back in an attempt to seem relaxed.

“I wasn’t there, but...” Rhonda began.

“ ... so let her tell the story,” Susan said with a wave of her hand. Then, “Please.”

“There was this one girl in our studio who, well, she looked ... she was beautiful. On the outside,” Carly began cautiously. But Susan had engaged Master PC before she’d even entered the room. She would get nothing but truth from the Brewers.

“Really, she was a bully. A dyke bully,” Carly continued, warming to the task of getting this off her adequate chest. “One junior, a real sweetie, had gotten in her sights, and she was determined to make the girl her bitch. Excuse my French.”

“You’re fine,” Susan said, hating that she smiled when she said it. “I appreciate your candor.”

“I caught her one day in the locker room pinning the girl against the lockers. She was terrified and with good reason,” Carly said. “When I heard her threaten to injure her, I stepped in and pulled her away. But then she came at me. I reacted.”

Carly shrugged, but Susan knew that the bully was judo thrown into the lockers and slung into the showers, suffering a broken collarbone and torn knee ligaments. But she’d made a friend for life; the junior girl’s testimony kept Carly out of jail, but she lost her good standing in the club.

And so here she was.

“You are much better suited to cheerleading than classic dance,” Susan said, looking at Rhonda as much as Carly. “I want to see your body. Please remove your clothing.”