Aris

September 15th.

I have no idea how many dancers are at my university. But now I know exactly how many of them decided to sign up for the individual category of the university championship: 38.

For 3 spots.

THIRTY-EIGHT for THREE.

“Thirty-eight for three...” I muttered, lying on my back on the top bunk.

Lizzie was applying makeup in front of the mirror and turned to face me.
“I swear I don’t get it. You’re entering a competition to compete in another competition?”

“It’s not the actual competition yet. The university can only send three competitors per category and will hold a selection process.”

“Have you told your parents about this?”

“If I do, they’ll say it’s too risky for my health.”

“Then you should listen to them.”

As if my family wasn’t enough, now my roommate was treating me like a child too. That’s why I took so long to tell anyone about my health condition.

“I just need to get into the competition. It’s only a week of rehearsals.”

“When will they choose?”

“On the 22nd.”

“That’s next week! It’s very little time. Will you manage the rehearsals along with college and work? By the way, where will you practice?”

“Mrs. Magalos gave me a copy of the school key. She said I could practice there at night. It’s just for a week; my body can handle it. I just need to get into the competition. The first stage, which will happen in each city, is next month, and I don’t mind if I don’t make it past that. I just need to participate to secure my job.”

“Okay... Just for a week. But don’t overdo it, okay? By the way, are you sure you don’t want to come with me to the Engineering students’ party? My friends from the theater club will be there; I really want you to meet them.”

I laughed at my friend’s contradiction.
“You don’t like me spending my nights rehearsing a dance routine, but you want to take me to a party?”

“It’s different. There are places to sit. And... hot guys. You’re about to finish your first month of college and still haven’t kissed anyone, which is inconceivable, Aris. Haven’t they told you that kissing is good for the heart?”

“After my job is secured, I’ll consider going with you to one of those parties. For now, I need to start my rehearsals.”
“Okay, but don’t overdo it, alright? From tomorrow on, I’ll come with you to make sure you’re taking breaks, eating, and not staying out too late.”
“As you said the other day, Lizzie, with biological, adopted, and chosen family, I already have four moms and two dads. I don’t need another one, believe me.”
“Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”
“I don’t need that, Lizzie.”
“Stop being stubborn and promise!”
“Alright, I promise.”
“Good girl. So, how do I look?”
She twirled around. She was wearing a short, flared dress with a denim jacket on top, since the temperature had finally dropped a bit that evening.
“You look amazing. Have fun at the party.”
“And you with your rehearsal.”
She blew me a kiss and left. I lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling with my mind racing.
Then an absurd idea crossed my mind. I should have had enough sense to dismiss it, but I let myself be driven by impulse.
I got up, climbed down from the bunk, and hurried to change into workout clothes, putting on leggings, socks, sneakers...
When I was about to put on one of my long-sleeve shirts, I reconsidered and decided to wear one of the tank tops I had bought a few days ago. However, I threw on a jacket over it and zipped it up all the way.
I grabbed my bag and left. I decided not to use my car and to call a ride instead, since I didn’t know the city very well yet.
However, when I picked up my phone, I realized I didn’t know the address. And that was probably something I wouldn’t find on Google.
So, I opted to call someone who might be able to help.
“Hi, Aris,” Leon answered. “Having trouble opening the school door?”

“No, I haven’t gotten there yet. I need to stop somewhere else first and was wondering if you could give me the address.”
“If I know it…”
“You probably do. I need the address… of the Arena.”

***


Even though it was outdoors, the place carried a strong smell of dust, alcohol, tobacco, and a bunch of chemicals I couldn’t yet identify.
Like the good, rule-abiding girl I was, as Dimitris would say.
But what surprised me was the number of people present. There was a completely packed grandstand, and many more people leaning against a barrier that was supposed to protect the audience.
The area was much larger than I initially imagined, with an uneven and open terrain. As soon as I arrived, I saw a motorcycle, along with its rider, practically flying many meters above the ground, propelled by one of the large ramps set up there.
On the opposite side of the grandstand, at a considerable distance and also protected by a barrier, there was a table where a group of five people—four men and one woman—took notes while observing the current performance. Probably judges. In front of them, a guy with a microphone excitedly narrated the stunts being performed.
I stopped, my eyes fixed on the rider performing at the moment. He executed a move the commentator described as “a perfect Backflip,” which basically involved a backward spin of the motorcycle, a kind of somersault with the vehicle in the air.
“Wow...” I whispered, unable to contain my awe and admiration.
When the rider landed, ending their performance, the crowd erupted in cheers and applause. I realized the rider was a woman when she took off her helmet, letting her long blonde hair cascade over her shoulders. And I recognized her face. She was the same person who had overheard my conversation with Lizzie in the restaurant bathroom and then told her Free Bird friends about it.
On that day Dimitris defended me...
“And that was the first performance of the night by Zoe Raptis.”
“Our next participant is the crowd favorite, Dimitris Makris.”
If I thought the crowd’s reaction to Zoe’s performance was deafening, it became even more insane when Dimitris’s name was mentioned. The audience went wild even before he reached the center of the arena.

When he arrived, I understood the reasons for this. Even before starting his performance, Dimitris exuded a commanding presence with his decisive steps towards his motorcycle, which was strategically positioned. He carried his helmet under one arm and had a serious, cold, yet determined expression. He seemed to completely ignore all the acclaim around him.
He had the calmness of someone simply living another day of their life, and at the same time, the gravity of someone who might be living their last.
He put on his helmet, mounted the motorcycle, and waited for the announcer to signal him to begin. When that happened, and the sound of his motorcycle engine reverberated through the arena, I rushed to the front of the grandstand, searching for a spot by the barrier where I could get a closer view.
What I witnessed next was almost magical.
Until then, I thought nothing in the world could compare to dance. The blend of delicacy and strength in bodily movements, challenging the body's limits, creating something utterly enchanting.
But Dimitris Makris achieved something very similar. With a heavy, two-wheeled vehicle, he defied gravity in maneuvers that seemed to challenge every other law of physics I knew.
As I watched him virtually fly through the arena, I felt my heart race and my lungs hold their breath for several seconds until he safely returned to the ground. The same seemed to happen with the entire audience, who alternated between complete silence and wild cheers and applause after each successful maneuver.
I barely managed to blink throughout the entire performance. The last maneuver was the most incredible of all. Meters above the ground, Dimitris positioned the motorcycle perpendicular to the ground and lifted his legs. With his hands firmly on the handlebars, he brought his head to the front fender, creating a perfect 90-degree angle with the vehicle.
The announcer, in ecstasy, proclaimed the name of the maneuver: Kiss of Death.
I only started breathing again when Dimitris safely set the motorcycle back on the ground.
Once again, the entire audience went absolutely wild.

Still sitting on the now stationary motorcycle, Dimitris removed his helmet and his eyes found mine directly, showing he had already noticed my presence.
Amidst all the cheers and applause, in the midst of all those people in complete ecstasy, it felt as if it were just the two of us there.
With his serious demeanor still intact, Dimitris winked at me. And, without realizing it, my lips curved into a smile.