Arrows by Melissa Gorzelanczyk

when we started down the road to the studio. “What did he do when she became a tree?”
    The inside of my mouth felt hot. “He stayed with her forever. It killed him to see her like that, but he vowed to tend her as his tree and used his powers of eternal youth to make her leaves evergreen. They’re known as bay laurel leaves. They never decay.”
    Pink light from the sunset caught on her face when she tilted it to the left. “It’s tragic if you think about it. For someone to believe they’re in love with a tree.”
    I fidgeted. “Yeah.”
    She scoffed with a rueful half smile. “You’d think, being gods, they could forbid something so stupid. Tree love.”
    “Yeah.” My body felt like stone. “You’d think.”

The studio seemed alive and smelled earthy from the diffusers Juliette had placed inside the entry. Swishing sounds, dancers’ feet hitting the floor, Juliette calling orders—the room was a blur of motion.
    “You can just leave your shoes under the bench, and I’ll see if Juliette can find some clothes for you to wear.”
    My aunt sashayed her way over with a cup of tea in her hand. The word Inspire labeled the mug. “What’s this?” She smiled at Aaryn, freezing the look as she locked eyes with me.
    I unzipped my bag. “You remember Aaryn. He’s going to help with the competition.”
    “Oh?” She drank. “Not…”
    I grabbed my spandex shorts out of my bag and rummaged around for the tank top. “Danny can’t come.” The words left sadness in my chest—all the movement he’d miss, all the rehearsals we could have had together. Now it was Aaryn who’d be there, Aaryn who’d see me every night and ride in the van and stay up late when it was all over.

    “Welcome back,” Juliette said. “Maybe it was fate all along, like you knew you belonged here.”
    Aaryn grinned. “Ha. Maybe.”
    Juliette sipped her tea and looked over the cup at the girls, who were staring and whispering about Aaryn. Svetlana was fixing her hair. “We better get started,” Juliette said. “I’ll grab something for you to wear.”
    “Hey, you two.” Peyton walked up, then squeezed my elbow. Her hair was pinned in a tight bun, but waves crinkled along the crown of her head, curls that wouldn’t go straight. “Come on, Karma, I’ll come with you to change.”
    The changing stall Peyton crowded me into was dark and smelled like cedar. “What’s going on?” she whispered.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Him. Aaryn. What’s he doing here?”
    “He’s going to do the pas de deux.” I used the wall for support and peeled off my jeans, kicking them until they dropped into a stiff heap on the floor. A cricket had snuck into the studio and was creaking nearby.
    Peyton helped me unlatch my bra. “I thought Danny was doing the dance.”
    “He doesn’t want to.” Why had I worded it like that? Why did it feel like those words belonged on the cons list? I shimmied into my shorts.
    “He’s not weirded out by some other guy dancing with you?”
    “This is what dancers do. I’ll dance with tons of guys. It’s not like we’re going on a romantic date. We’re going to rehearse.”
    “I know. ”

    The changing stall curtain scraped open. In unison, we said: “I’m changing!”
    “She’s changing!”
    Peyton jumped in front of me.
    “He needs to get in there. You girls can talk later.” Juliette was holding a pair of sweatpants. “Don’t worry, he can’t see.”
    I snapped my tank top on and meandered into the studio, fixing the edge of my shorts more than once. Aaryn was surrounded, Monique telling him something about her history with ballet. Svetlana stood the closest.
    “Are you a really good dancer?” she asked him. She had her ankle pulled up to her head.
    “I guess we’ll find out.”
    “I thought you said you’d taken a class,” I said. With my heel planted on the floor, I squatted back to stretch.
    Aaryn paused. “I’ve danced.”
    “You don’t know the first thing about