Amy winced as she rose from the bed. Every muscle in her back and legs seemed to scream in pain, but she resisted the urge to lie down again. She refused to admit defeat, even such a small one.
After a brutally quick and cold shower, Amy pulled on her leotard and tights and grabbed some nonfat yogurt from the fridge.
"Day two," her roommate stated grimly.
Amy nodded.
"I hear it's worse than the first."
Amy tried to laugh.
Ballet was tough, there was no doubt. But it was her dream. She'd given up almost everything to get here, and she wasn't going back. Not after a day, not ever.
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