All the Wrong Moves by Nikki Carter

Author:Nikki Carter [Carter, Nikki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: cookie429, Kat, Extratorrents
ISBN: 978-0-7582-6790-0
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2011-01-07T13:00:00+00:00

17

Tonight is our first show in Birmingham, Alabama, and I’m a ball of nerves. You would think this was my first time ever performing! I’m having fears that I’ll forget the words to my songs, forget the dance steps, or worse, slip and fall on my butt trying to do Mystique’s complicated moves.

The BET camera crew is set up backstage to record all of our pre-concert activities, and everyone is doing their usual pre-show routine. Truth is in the corner mumbling lyrics and drinking lukewarm water. Dreya is making demands and sipping out of a can of Sprite. I’m doing breathing exercises trying to calm my jitters.

Ms. Layla just got here and is directing a small crew around several racks of clothing. It’s just one show, so I don’t know why she has all this inventory here. It’s like she wants to have a backup outfit, and a backup for the backup, and a backup for the backup’s backup. Just ridiculous if you ask me.

Since I’m performing first, she starts holding pieces up to me and either shaking her head or nodding and smiling. I’ve already tried all of this stuff on, so I don’t know why she can’t just hand me something.

“How are you feeling tonight, Sunday? Are you feeling positive energy or negative energy?” Ms. Layla asks.

I lift one eyebrow and shrug. How am I even supposed to answer that question? She takes my wrist and taps it about twenty times.

“There, that’s better. Your aura is brighter now.”

Okay … um … yeah.

I don’t think Dreya likes me getting attended to first, because she storms over to Ms. Layla’s racks of clothing.

“Where is my outfit?” Dreya asks. “I need to see what I’m supposed to be wearing, because I might need to make some changes.”

Ms. Layla drops my wrist and slowly turns toward Dreya. She gives her an up and down look. “Your aura is dark; pick something black from over there.”

Ms. Layla waves at the far rack and goes back to picking out my outfit.

Dreya fusses, “I can’t find anything on these messy hangers! Someone needs to help me immediately. Sunday can wear anything. She’s the opening act. I’m one of the headliners.”

Ms. Layla sighs and says, “Sunday, please excuse me. I’ll be right back in a few moments. Take some deep breaths. Inhale deeply; exhale slowly. You seem nervous; your heart is racing. Find your center.”

Find my center? What is this? Am I the Karate Kid, and she’s Ms. Miyagi? But, maybe there is something to this, because the breathing is helping, and I definitely didn’t tell her about my feeling nervous.

I watch Ms. Layla quickly put together an ensemble that Dreya approves. It reminds me of a black spacesuit. Actually, it looks like Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” jacket, but as a bodysuit. Yes, attempt to visualize that with me.

Ms. Layla comes back and hands me a half T-shirt and a pair of cargo jeans. She strokes her chin like she’s thinking and decides to finish off the outfit with a black baseball cap with HOT GIRL spelled out in rhinestones.

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