SubscribeStar Story: Alyssa’s Accidents, Part Twelve

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Part Twelve

The thing was, Ruby was more of an acquaintance than a friend.

We went to different schools, and didn’t have that much in common. Our only real connection was the fact that we took similar classes at our studio due to being the same age and around the same skill level. My excited greeting was less about who she was, and more that I had finally run into someone I knew after nearly giving up hope that it would happen on my solo walk around the park.

“Hey, could I ask you for a huge favor? I would totally owe you.”

I still had no idea how I was going to disseminate the past nineteen hours or so to someone who hadn’t been there from the start. Not that I planned on telling Ruby the whole story. She just needed to hear enough to be willing to help me. I put my bathroom mission on hold for the time being, as I wanted to keep eyes on her. Logically, I knew that Ruby would probably wait for me if I asked, but I really didn’t like the paranoid thought of her walking off and leaving me in the same situation as before with no one I knew around. Instead, I pretended like I had only come in to wash my hands.

We headed back outside together, as that was better than having a conversation in the bathroom. After finding a spot a few yards away with less traffic, I launched into the abbreviated version of my time with Noelle. How she showed up at the wrong house, how my step-sister called me by the wrong name instead of clearing things up, and how the girl down the street was such a notorious brat that her babysitter didn’t believe a single thing I said in my defense.

“But, don’t you have, like, a million things with ‘Alyssa’ written on them?”

“Paige stole a bunch of things from my room when I was busy with Noelle. And I tried with my driver’s license, but she thought it was a fake. Honestly, Noelle would probably assume anything with my real name is just a prop to support what she believes I’m making up.”

“Wait, how old does she think you are?”

“ . . . Thirteen. It wasn’t my fault; I was wearing my leotard when she showed up, and my hair was a mess!”

“Oh, my God! Thirteen?!” Ruby giggled. She gave me a quick once over, then said, “Hmm, I guess I can see it. Did Paige take your clothes, too?”

It was exactly why I didn’t want to say Miley’s age. I needed Ruby’s help, however, so I was stuck giving her whatever details she was curious about. “You know I’d never dress like this,” I sighed. Ruby would know. Unlike school, ballet didn’t stop at the end of the semester. Honestly, the sundress she was currently wearing was similar to something I’d pick out for myself for a hot, summer day.

Ruby nodded. “I suppose. Okay, I take it you want me to tell Noelle who you really are?”

“Please.” Obviously, I did.

“I guess I could,” she said, “On one condition. Lift your skirt for a second?”

Wait, what? “Umm, why?” I nervously asked. Why would she suggest that? Just to embarrass me, or something? We literally changed together all the time, so it’s not like I had anything to hide. Where my body was involved, at least. The problem was, my underwear situation at the moment was not ideal.

Apparently, she already suspected as much. “You’re walking a little funny,” she belatedly observed, “Kind of like my niece and nephew the last time I saw them. I’m just curious.”

“Ruby, come on . . . ” I trailed off. Of course she noticed. Because girls like that were more keyed into movement after years of learning how to be graceful in every position and sequence we learned. Maybe a single pull-up would have been fine, but the punishment/motivator of wearing two layers apparently affected my ability to walk normally even when I was still making a conscious effort to do so.

“Those are my terms,” she said, “Lift your skirt, or I walk away.”

Couldn’t just one girl be on my side??

Being in the same studio clearly didn’t make us allies. Granted, it felt more like Ruby was amusing herself rather than tormenting me like Paige. For now. I didn’t know her well enough to know what she might do with the confirmation that I wasn’t wearing regular underwear. At the same time, I didn’t really have a choice. The more I resisted, the more obvious it would be that I was trying to hide something. And we wouldn’t be in the same classes for much longer, anyway. Once I left for college, I’d be doing ballet on campus.

“It’s just some stupid babysitting method of making me behave,” I muttered. It was bad enough that she suspected the truth; there was no reason Ruby needed to know about my overnight accident that may or may not have been caused by Paige. Blushing more deeply than before, and taking a quick glance towards Ruby’s hands to affirm that her phone wasn’t in either of them, I flashed the pull-ups to her for a single second before hastily dropping the skirt back down.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed. Grinning at how her guess had been proven correct, Ruby said, “Okay, new deal. If you want me to come with you to talk to Noelle, you need to have an ‘accident.’ Right now.”

“NO.” There was no way. The loud protest escaped my lips before I even began thinking through the terrible suggestion. As in, use the pull-ups? Absolutely not. “Ruby, no,” I said, as calmly as I could under the circumstances, “You said if I lifted my skirt-”

“I said I would walk away if you didn’t. I never said I’d come with you if you did,” she shrugged, “This is for last autumn, Alyssa. You totally stole my feature spot for that recital. So as an apology, you’re going to wet yourself while wearing diapers.”

That was so not true! It had never been my plan to take her spot. Ruby was just an assistant for some of the beginner classes, and had spread herself too thin. It was why I had never personally been interested in teaching at my age, as I would lose valuable practice time. When the extra responsibility was affecting Ruby’s performance in our upper level class, one of our instructors eventually asked if I would be willing to learn her part, ‘just in case.’ Admittedly, I was flattered and enjoyed the thought of having two featured pieces in the same recital, but I would have been just fine in the background of Ruby’s number if she had managed to step it up in time. Instead, she seemed to be in denial about her own shortcomings and was entirely blaming me.

“That was Mrs. Torres,” I said, deciding that it wasn’t worth clarifying that I was in pull-ups rather than diapers, “She asked. Since when do students have any say in the line-up?”

“And I’m sure you jumped at the chance to take it for yourself,” she replied, “Last chance, Miley. If you want your name back that badly, then prove it.”

As I scrambled to come up with something else to say in my defense, Ruby merely began counting down from five.

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