Drill Team Determination Read online

  “Sounds like a great start,” said her mom.

  “Yeah, it was fine,” said Aniyah. “But I’m not going back.”

  “What?” asked her dad, setting down the forkful of pork chop he’d been about to eat.

  “Why wouldn’t you go back?” added her mom.

  “Step club is suddenly drill team—and they’re going to compete,” explained Aniyah. She mashed kernels of corn under her fork and watched the juice ooze out.

  “And?” her mom prodded.

  “And you know how I feel about performing or competing in front of people. I get so nervous that I feel sick.”

  “Oh, honey, I know. I sympathize. I really do,” said her mom. “I remember when you were supposed to be in the Three Little Pigs play in third grade. That morning, you woke up in tears. I know your fear is real.”

  “Exactly,” said Aniyah. She let out the breath she had been holding.

  “But … ,” her mom continued.

  Oh, no, thought Aniyah. So much for having sympathy and understanding. She braced herself for what her mom would say next.

  “There will be times in your life when you will have to perform in front of people,” Mom said.

  Aniyah looked to her dad for some help. Once in a while, that worked. Aniyah would widen her big brown eyes in a way that said, Save me, and her dad would jump in to defend her.

  This time, though, he nodded and said, “Mom is right, Aniyah.”

  Aniyah put her fork down, crossed her arms, and slouched in her chair.

  “You’ll always have oral presentations to do in school, and you’ll have job interviews when you get older,” said her mom. “That’s just for starters.”

  “‘All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women, merely players,’” Dad added, quoting Shakespeare.

  Aniyah sighed and slumped down even farther.

  “We are always performing, really,” said her mom. “And you can’t avoid competition forever. Sometimes it’s healthy. You have to learn how to manage your fear and push through it. Knowing how to stick with something, even when it’s difficult, is a skill worth learning, Aniyah.”

  “Okay, but I don’t have to learn that right now. Maybe next year when I start high school,” Aniyah suggested with a small, hopeful smile.

  “Actually, you have to do it now. You promised Stacy you would join the team with her,” Mom reminded her. “You know one of our family rules is to finish what you start.”

  “Hold on. I promised her I would go to the first meeting, which I did,” said Aniyah. “I didn’t make any promises after that. Actually, I already told her I couldn’t go back.”

  “And how did that go over?” asked her dad.

  “She was fine with it,” said Aniyah, avoiding eye contact.

  Her mom gave Aniyah a hard stare.

  “Okay, she said it was fine … but she’s probably disappointed,” Aniyah admitted.

  “Uh-huh. Is that the kind of friend you want to be?” asked her mom.

  Aniyah looked to her dad again. His eyes were sympathetic, but he just gave a small shrug. Aniyah didn’t even bother to argue about it anymore. She knew it would be a waste of breath.

  “Let’s compromise,” said her mom. “Keep going to the practices with Stacy. When it’s time for the first competition, we’ll see how you feel. Wait until then to decide. Deal?”

  “Fine,” said Aniyah. “I’ll text Stacy tonight and tell her.” She picked up her fork again and pushed the food around her plate. She wanted to get up and go to her room, but she had to finish what she started. She shoved a forkful of corn into her mouth, even though her appetite was gone.

  CHAPTER 4

  WHAT’S IMPORTANT NOW

  On Thursday after school, Aniyah dragged herself into the gym at the start of practice. Stacy ran up to Aniyah and jumped on her back.

  “I know this isn’t going to be easy for you,” said Stacy. “Thank you so much for coming back. I really don’t want to do this without you.”

  Aniyah smiled as Stacy hopped down from her piggyback ride. “Well, since I have to do this, I’m glad I’ll have my best friend here for support.”

  Stacy smiled back and gave Aniyah a goofy double thumbs-up.

  Ms. Soto called for everyone’s attention. “Today, we are going to practice the same steps you learned last time,” she said. “Instead of being in small groups, though, we are going to step as a team. The goal is for all of us to be synchronized. Remember the word Umoja—unity. It’s not easy for a group this big to move as one. I don’t expect it to happen right away. It will take lots of practice.”

  She paused and looked over the group of girls. “Let’s line up in four rows of five.”

  The girls moved into position. Aniyah had placed herself in the back row.

  “Are we ready?” Ms. Soto asked.

  “Yes, ma’am!” the team shouted.

  Ms. Soto cupped her ear, a signal that meant she wanted them to be louder.

  “Yes, ma’am!” they yelled with more volume.

  “First row, remain standing. Everyone else, have a seat. Our veterans will perform the first part of the routine twice. The first time, they will go through each move slowly. They’ll call out the step’s name, like they did last time. The second time, they will do it quickly, so you can see what it looks like when everyone is in sync.”

  Jasmine, the eighth grader who’d led Aniyah’s group the first time, stood in the middle of the first row. She raised her arms in front of her, chest-high, and thrust her balled her fists together.

  “Ready?” she called.

  Each of the girls in Jasmine’s row also lifted their arms out front and held one fist against the other. This was their “ready” stance.

  Then Jasmine said, “Ready, and …”

  A second later, the girls all started the routine.

  They went slowly, naming each move as they did it. Stomps, claps, dabs, squats, smacks, and poses. They also named the positions, like up, down, front, and back.

  Aniyah watched and whispered the moves to help her remember them. “Stomp, clap, stomp, clap, stomp-stomp, clap-clap. Right knee up, clap. Left knee up, clap. Right knee up, clap. Left knee up, clap. Clap front and stomp. Clap back and stomp. Dab up right, stomp left. Dab down right, stomp left. Dab up left, stomp right. Dab down left, stomp right. Stomp-stomp-stomp-stomp. Clap.”

  “Now do it again. This time, pick up the pace, and don’t call the steps,” said Ms. Soto.

  The veterans nodded. Jasmine called, “Ready?”

  The other girls in her line got in ready position.

  “Ready, and …” Jasmine started.

  A second later, the girls blasted through the routine, perfectly in sync. Their moves sounded like drums going boom, boom, and rat-a-tat-tat.

  What had taken the new girls an hour to learn during the first meeting lasted a minute when put together—maybe less. When the leaders stopped, everyone cheered.

  Ms. Soto raised her hands for attention. “This is only the beginning. Our full routine will be about seven minutes. We’ve got a lot of work to do before our competition. Everyone stand up and get in the ready position.”

  The rest of the girls scrambled to their feet. They all raised their arms and put their fists together.

  “Jasmine will stay in front,” Ms. Soto said. “The rest of my veterans, please join one of the other lines so you can help our new members.”

  For the rest of the practice, Jasmine slowly called out the steps, and everyone else followed. Again and again and again. During the final fifteen minutes, the girls tried to pick up the pace and run through the steps in real speed.

  The first time through sounded like a school band during its warm-ups—chaos. The claps and taps and stomps happened randomly instead of in sync. At the end of the routine, they all laughed at themselves. Aniyah realized it was going to be hard to move at the same time, even when everyone had the basic moves memorized.

  Soon, though, the group looked an
d sounded better. Many were getting the hang of it. But others, including Aniyah, still stepped or clapped at the wrong time.

  Stacy, who was in the row in front of Aniyah, had it all memorized. At the end of one drill, Stacy bounced on her toes and clapped. “I did it!” Aniyah heard Stacy cheer to herself.

  Stacy looked back at Aniyah, who smiled and gave her friend an air five. Aniyah loved that Stacy was so enthusiastic about everything. Her smile quickly faded, though, when Jasmine told them to get ready to do it again.

  Ms. Soto slowly walked alongside each row and watched the girls perform. Aniyah’s heartbeat sped up as Ms. Soto got closer.

  Oh, no, she thought. Ms. Soto is going to see that I’m not getting this. If I can’t even perform in front of her, how am I ever going to be able to perform in front of a crowd and judges? How am I ever going to be as good as my mom?

  Aniyah’s hands started to sweat, which made her clapping sloppy. She wiped her hands on the sides of her shorts and tried to catch up with the routine. But she was completely off track.

  Aniyah stopped and bent over. She put her hands on her knees and closed her eyes tightly. She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.

  A moment later, someone tapped her shoulder. Aniyah turned her head and opened one eye. Ms. Soto was looking at her with concern.

  “Come over here,” she said to Aniyah. She led Aniyah away from the other girls before she asked, “Is everything okay?”

  “Not really,” Aniyah admitted.

  “Tell me what’s going on,” Ms. Soto replied.

  “I’m nervous about competing and performing in front of people,” Aniyah said. Her words came out in spurts. “I joined with Stacy because I had promised her and because it was a club with no pressure. But, now we’re a team, and all I can think about is performing in front of judges and crowds and my mom, who is a master stepper. I can’t concentrate on the steps. I can only think about competing at some point, and that makes it hard to stay in sync with everyone else.”

  “Okay,” said Ms. Soto. “Relax for a bit and breathe in and out, deeply and slowly.”

  Aniyah concentrated on her breathing until she felt calmer. Her heartbeat wasn’t pounding in her ears anymore.

  “Have you heard of the acronym W.I.N.?” asked Ms. Soto.

  Aniyah shook her head.

  “It stands for What’s Important Now,” said Ms. Soto. “The idea is to focus on the moment. Concentrate on what you have to do now. Don’t worry about what comes next or what may happen tomorrow or next week or next year. If you do, you’re wasting mental energy. You’re worrying about something in the future that you can’t control. Most of all, you’re missing out on the present.”

  “I hear what you’re saying, Ms. Soto,” said Aniyah. “But that’s easier said than done. I know I shouldn’t worry, but I can’t help it. I can’t just turn off my nerves.” She shook out her arms and wiped her palms on her shorts again.

  “You’re right,” said Ms. Soto. “But there are things you can do to manage your nerves. Try the W.I.N. strategy and practice the steps at home. Do the routine in front of a mirror, all by yourself. Don’t worry about being in sync with your teammates. Just get in sync with yourself.” Ms. Soto smiled. “No one else will be in your room, so you won’t be comparing yourself to others. Focus on the steps. Focus on the moment. Focus on you. That’s all. Just you and the steps.”

  “Me and the steps. That’s all,” repeated Aniyah.

  “That’s right,” said Ms. Soto.

  “Okay, Coach. I’ll try.”

  “‘Coach.’ I like the sound of that,” Ms. Soto said with a smile. She turned to the other girls, and said, “From now on, call me Coach, since we are a team!”

  The team exploded with whoops and cheers.

  At home, Aniyah stood in front of the full-length mirror that hung on the back of her bedroom door.

  “What’s important now?” she said to herself. “What’s important is that I master these steps, first slowly and then quickly. Focus on the steps and nothing else.”

  Aniyah took a few deep breaths and shook out her arms. She started the routine. She did each move slowly and named it out loud, just like Jasmine had during practice. She remembered each step.

  “All right,” she said and nodded. “Now a little faster.” She did the routine again. At the end, she smiled at herself in the mirror. “Not bad at all.”

  She stopped to send a text message to Stacy:

  I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think I’m getting the hang of the steps! It’s actually fun now that I sort of know what I’m doing.

  Stacy responded with a GIF of an entire stadium erupting in applause.

  Aniyah smiled and went back to the mirror. “Let’s try it again, faster this time,” she said.

  But this time, in the middle of the routine, the door opened. It nearly hit Aniyah in the face.

  “Ugh. Mom!” Aniyah exclaimed.

  “What? Am I not allowed to come into your room?” her mom asked.

  “Of course you can come in—if you knock!” said Aniyah. “I was practicing, and I need the door closed so I can see myself in the mirror.”

  “Oh, sorry!” her mom said.

  Aniyah thought her mom would leave. Instead, she came in and closed the door behind her.

  “There,” Mom said. “Now you can look in the mirror.”

  “But … you’re still here,” said Aniyah.

  “Is that a problem?” asked her mom.

  “Coach said I should practice by myself,” said Aniyah.

  “Yeah, but if you end up competing, then you’re going to have an audience,” Mom pointed out. “You might as well start with me!”

  “Mom, you’re not my coach,” said Aniyah. She was trying to control her tone and temper, but she was getting more and more annoyed. “My actual coach said to practice alone. She wants me to focus on myself and the steps. She doesn’t want me to worry about anyone or anything else.”

  “But I know stepping. I can give you advice!” her mom said cheerfully.

  “I don’t want your advice!” Aniyah snapped.

  Regret immediately washed over Aniyah. On the one hand, she meant what she’d said. She wanted to follow her coach’s advice and practice alone. She didn’t want her mom’s suggestions right now.

  On the other hand, she knew that what she’d said and how she’d said it had hurt her mother’s feelings.

  Both Aniyah and her mom were quiet for a few uncomfortable moments.

  “Got it,” Mom finally said. She opened Aniyah’s bedroom door and left the room, closing it softly behind her.

  Aniyah plopped herself onto her bed and turned on the television in her room. She didn’t feel like practicing anymore.

  CHAPTER 5

  RUNNING AND PUMPING IRON

  At the next drill team practice, the girls ran through the first one-minute routine they’d learned. After three tries, everyone had it down perfectly. They celebrated the moment with cheers and high fives, which filled Aniyah with joy, pride, and belonging.

  I did it! she thought. I nailed the steps, and I didn’t feel nervous!

  “That was great!” Coach Soto said. “This is the result of lots of practice, hard work, and focus.”

  Coach purposely locked eyes with Aniyah and nodded. Aniyah smiled. It felt good to be recognized. She had been practicing at home all weekend, and she’d been doing her best to focus, stay calm, and think W.I.N.

  “Today, we’ll start adding moves to build up to a full, seven-minute routine,” said Coach Soto. “We have five weeks before our first competition.”

  The reminder that she only had one-seventh of the routine memorized deflated Aniyah a bit. And then the word competition made her stomach clench.

  About halfway through practice, Aniyah pictured the judges, the crowd, and her mom watching her every movement. The joy she felt earlier was replaced with dread. When her chest felt tight, she stopped stepping and bent over. With her hands on her knee
s, she tried to catch her breath.

  Coach Soto saw this. “Let’s take a five-minute break,” she called. She walked quickly over to Aniyah. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m trying, Coach. I really am,” said Aniyah. “I’ve been doing the W.I.N. thing and trying to focus on just me and the steps. But if I stay on the team, that means competitions. Then it’s not just about me and the steps. I don’t want to let the team down.”

  “Aniyah, you won’t let anyone down, yourself included, as long as you do your best,” said Coach Soto. “We’ll add to the routine slowly, and we’ll practice each part until everyone gets it. This is a team effort. You’re not in this alone.”

  At that point, Stacy came over. She crouched down like a frog so she could see Aniyah’s face.

  “Hey!” she said, looking worried. “You okay?”

  Aniyah stood up and linked her fingers behind her head, stretching her torso to help her breathe. Once she felt better, she wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands. She stood tall and put her fists on her hips, but her breathing was still a little ragged.

  “I’m sorry, Aniyah,” said Stacy, seeing her friend’s struggle. “I pushed you into this. You don’t have to stick with it if you really don’t want to.”

  “The thing is, I think I want to stick with it,” said Aniyah. “Nailing the steps at the beginning of practice felt so good. It was fun and cool, and I felt like I was a part of something.”

  Stacy and Coach Soto smiled.

  “But I just don’t know if I can do it,” said Aniyah.

  “Aniyah, do you have trouble breathing only when you’re feeling anxious?” asked Coach Soto.

  “Yeah, mostly,” said Aniyah. “Although, after the first practice, I was panting because I was exhausted.”

  Coach nodded and then said, “Okay, so we have to tackle this on two fronts. For your nerves, continue to use the W.I.N. strategy.”

  “Okay… ,” said Aniyah.

  “And for your stamina, we’re going to add cardio and strength training,” said Coach.

  “Wait … what?” asked Aniyah.