I"m not in the best frame of mind and try to settle the butterflies in my stomach while walking into what we dub the kid classroom. I haven’t been in here for years.
The afternoon hasn"t gone the way I planned. Instead of practicing my music, I fell asleep and barely had time to get ready for dance. I’ll have to text Taylor back later.
A breathless young woman with red hair and brown eyes introduces herself as Janie. Four of the eight girls are here, and it appears she has her hands full already.
"Keep an eye on the girls and stop them from doing anything too wild," Janie says. "I"ll greet the parents at the door."
The girls are adorbs, and my butterflies land as I meet them. Ten minutes later, Janie speaks over the cute, high-pitched chatter to begin class. They’re balls of energy,
