Andlat's Story Spot

Kaitlyn sighed as she stepped out of the changing room, her tutu brushing the doorframe. This was so ridiculous. She did not want to be in ballet, but since her mom owned the studio, she insisted. The pointe shoes pinched her toes as she walked over to the boys, glaring at the ones that gaped at her. It was so unfair. They got to wear t-shirts and trousers for the recital and here she was, all gussied up like... like a doll or something! How would they like it if they were in her place? Now there was an idea, she thought as they all did their stretches to warm up. What if? No, it was crazy. Who would she pick? The obvious choice, of course, was Tristan, her partner for the pas de deux at the recital. They were roughly the same height, that was why he was tapped as her partner. Just like all of the boys in the class, he wanted to be there. He had willingly signed up, not like Kaitlyn, who was only there because it was the only way to get her mom to let her do what she wan...

For as long as Max could remember, he had always felt outnumbered. Being the second oldest, but with nothing but sisters, he felt like he could never get his way. They always seemed to team up against him as if to make sure he never got to do what he wanted to, but he knew his time had finally come. He had made the baseball team for the summer and raced home to tell his mom, his mind racing with images of just how much time he would spend out of the house without his sisters constantly begging him to play their games with him. “That’s very exciting, Max, but I’m not sure we can fit it into our schedule.” His mom said. “C’mon, mom! Coach says that I show a lot of promise and I could even become a starter with enough practice.” “I know it’s important to you, Maxie, but” her voice trailed off. “The girls’ dance schedule is packed.” He frowned, his dreams of a free summer replaced by countless visions of sitting through his sisters’ dance recitals. “But” his mom said again. “I suppose e...

"Seriously! We're lost!" Max whined as he looked at all the corn around them. "We are not." His brother replied. "You're just a worrywart." "Nuh-uh!" "You were so confident before." Dylan said with a grin. "Was not." Max muttered. "Sure you were. That was why you told mom and dad we'll meet them in the middle." Max sighed. "That was your idea." "Well, maybe I just wanted some alone time with my shaggy big bro." He playfully tousled Max's hair, his favorite way to drive home how much taller than him he was. "Stop!" "Someone's getting fussy." Dylan teased. "Am not!" "Well," Dylan shrugged. "How about we help you cool off?" "What?" Max had not be expecting that. Dylan smirked, never a good sign. "Well, sure. It's hot, isn't it?" Max shrugged. "Here, hold the backpack." Dylan handed it to Max b...

Another summer, another stupid 'end of the school year' photoshoot. Where did moms even come up with this stuff? And the clothes! There had to be some bizarro boutique where you bought clothes that were practically torture devices for kids. Just look at that photo! That jacket, blazer, whatever has to be against the whatchamacallit. Genema Conviction? Whatever it's called. As we headed out to the place where we would be taking photos, I almost felt at least a little jealous of Jo's dress. Not like that, weirdo! I just mean it was normally what she wore for these dress-up occasions and compared to my shorts and, what was this thing even? A freaking blazer? I figured a dress was less dorky by far! The thought of me actually asking mom for a dress was so funny, I almost ran into Jo as she skidded to a halt. "Shoot, can you grab that?" She pointed to the toy she had just dropped. It looked like some kind of little figurine. A fox? A red panda? What even was i...

Caitlyn told herself she went out into the woods to try to find a new wand, but she knew a part of her just liked to spite Mom. Mom wanted her to wear dresses all the time and she, being a former boy (the former still stung to admit), refused. At least it would all be fixed soon. Much as Caitlyn hated to admit it, there were some nice things about being the only girl. She no longer had to worry about a brother stealing her favorite shirt, they were forbidden from barging into her room, and she could not deny that it was kind of nice being mom's obvious favorite. All the same, she still refused to believe she was getting used to being a girl, Bryan's words from that car ride to grandma's echoing in her head. There was still plenty she would never get used to, like mom insisting on picking out the absolute worst outfits for her. "You're still young enough that I can choose some of your clothes." Mom would say, showing her yet another hideous dress. Caitlyn ...

It was Tuesday afternoon, which meant it was time for ballet class. The girls filed into the changing room to get into their leotards and tights, chattering away about the news. "I heard it's a punishment." "I heard that he's a total sissy and wants to be a girl." “Maybe he just likes ballet?” “Yeah, right, Gretchen. Most of us are only here because our moms want us to do ballet like prissy little girls. Why would a boy sign up for this?” On the other side of the too thin wall, Freddy could hear the girls speculating about him. He sighed and got dressed. He had never believed he would have to wear the exact same uniform as the girls. Why didn't more boys take ballet? What did it mean when the teacher had said he should ‘get used’ to wearing the same thing as the girls? A knock at the door startled him. He knew what that meant: it was time. "Coming." He called. He took a deep breath, curling his toes in the ballet slippers. They felt so strange....