58"Oh my gosh. Did you see the new guy? He is so hot!"
I rubbed my eyes tiredly as the high-pitched voices around me registered. Their voices were only interrupted by the loud chewing of their gums.
I looked down at my table and on my uneaten sandwich. The gossiping girls and their gum-chewing made me lose my appetite. I picked up my leather messenger bag that I had dropped beneath my chair earlier. I opened the zipper and pulled out a still cold can of Red Bull.
I opened it and internally smiled at the hiss sound it made. I stifled a yawn before raising the can to my lips. I hoped for the caffeine to wake me up.
As I put the can back on the desk I rubbed my eyes again, feeling them tear up as I stifled another yawn. My dreams weren't merciful last night. Nightmares were my constant companions.
Still looking at the table my eyes caught my black iPod touch. I picked it up and put the earphones in. As soon as I pressed play I was greeted by loud blaring noises.
I looked up and scanned the cafeteria. It looked like any other cafeteria... except the outfits of the students. The girls were clad in leotards and tights. The boys had sweatpants over the tights and tight t-shirts.
It was the first school day back at Boston Dance Academy and the cafeteria was exploding in chatter. As the song ended I could hear people talking about their vacation before going back to the topic of the new student. There was also talk of a new dance instructor. Another song started playing and drowned the mindless chatter of the people around me.
Scanning the room I noticed a few eyes on me. I could see their mouths moving rapidly. There were talking about me.
Elizabeth Harper, the daughter of William Harper, was a loner.
It was my second year here at Boston Dance Academy and since my first day everyone expected me to be Miss Popular for they knew I could dance.
At the age of 18, soon to be 19, I belonged to the elite here and it wasn't something I took pride in. I took distaste in it. Since I could remember I have been sent around the world to visit new dance schools, to focus on my technique and learn as much as possible.
Boston Dance Academy was no elite school and was rather lacking in its education but I didn't chose this. I was sent here.
Annoyed by my own arrogant voice I closed my eyes and drowned in the music blasting in my ears. As I forgot about all the eyes on me my mind stirred up the images of my nightmare. His hand on my cheek. The pain. He was shoving me.
"You are so worthless.."
I could feel myself losing control and my eyes snapped open. Hastily I picked up my bag, the uneaten sandwich and my can of Red Bull. I got up and rushed out of the cafeteria, only stopping by a trash can to throw my sandwich in.
I was walking through the corridors of the old building, trying to get to a tiny dance studio.
I was still shaken up by my nightmare. When I dreamed my mind didn't come up with things, I relieved memories. There was no way for me to escape my mind. Awake or asleep I couldn't forget.
I reached the dance studio and opened the door to find the studio empty. I stepped on the parquet floor which covered the whole ground. Sometimes it squealed when I put my weight on it. There were no windows in here. I closed the door behind me and looked to the left wall that was made of mirrors. There was a tiny crack in the right corner of the mirror. The wall across of me had once been painted white but now it was only gray. There was a wooden door in the middle of the wall which led to an empty storage room. I always changed out of my clothes there.
The wall to my right side was the same gray color. A simple wooden desk was pushed to it, a fine docking station on top of it. I walked towards the desk and pulled out my earphones. Then I connected my iPod with the docking station and looked for my song.
Last year my dance instructor had made up a really good choreography but it hadn't been good enough. I asked her if I could make up my choreography and that was what I did over my summer. Today I would show it to her to see if I could use this one.
To evaluate 90 percent of your grade every dancer had to perform at a dance show where all teachers graded you while your family and friends watched.
As I found the song I took the remote for the docking station with me. I walked towards the center of the dance studio and positioned my body in an Arabesque.
I stood still, straining my leg to get even higher. I couldn't be sloppy. I had to be perfect.
Content with my Arabesque I pressed play on the remote and dropped it to the floor as You Me At Six's Take Your Breath filled the room with noise.
I eased into the fast music, mixing ballet with jazz moves. It was something I had picked up a few years ago and I didn't stop.
I was focused on my steps and how I moved my body. My moves punctuated the words that rang out as my head swam with all the instructions.
I couldn't make a mistake.
Suddenly the song slowed for a moment, guitar strings getting louder. I stood on my left leg and started twirling in pirouettes.
"I only have eyes for you. I only have eyes for you."
The song picked up on speed again and I jumped out of my pirouettes as the refrain overtook.
"I've got you hanging on every word I say but that don't mean a thing.
And you love the way I take your breath away, so I take, take, take."
The music finally drifted to an end and the room got quiet, the only sound to be heard was my heavy breathing. Suddenly someone clapped and I whirled around to see a boy my age standing at the doorway.
Why didn't I hear the door open?
"Wow. You really did take my breath away." The boy had brown tousled hair and a friendly smile on his face. I had never seen him before. Maybe that was the new guy everyone talked about.
"Thanks." I answered. "How come I didn't see you opening the door?"
"What can I say? I'm good at not being noticed." There was a faint accent that I couldn't place. "Anyway, I'm here because the principle told me to come in here."
"Oh. Okay." I said and picked up the remote from the floor. Then I turned away and walked towards the docking station. I unplugged my iPod as I waited for my dance instructor, Mrs. Garrett. I leaned against the desk and watched the new guy walk into the dance studio inspecting it. Then he turned to me, his eyes narrowed before his facial expressions relaxed again.
"You were really good. You are a great dancer." He started. "But there was something missing."
My eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"
He raised his arms in defense. "Sorry, but that was my opinion. Your technique was flawless, seriously. Your moves were precise but something was just missing."
I wanted to laugh. Who was he to analyze my dancing?
Deciding that I had enough of this guy I picked up my bag from below the desk and threw it over my shoulder.
I walked towards him, sarcasm thickening my words. "I think I know what was missing."
He looked mildly amused at my tone. "Yeah?"
"Your brain." I said and turned around to walk to the door. I wanted to facepalm myself for it was one of my worst comebacks ever. I heard a chuckle behind me but I shrugged it off.
Right as I wanted to step out of the door a big figure stood in front of me. I looked up to the face of our principal, Mrs. Hardfish. I still couldn't believe that it was her name. It must have been a prank or shit.
"Hello, Ms. Harper." She said too sweetly. She wasn't my biggest fan.
I stepped aside to let her enter, watching her thin form clad in form-fitting suit.
"Ah, I see you have met Mr. Jackson." She said and walked towards him. Then she turned around and nodded with her head at him, indicating I should walk to her.
Begrudgingly I walked to her and stood next to her. "Mr. Brian Jackson, this is Ms. Elizabeth Harper."
The new guy had a name. Brian looked at me and smirked. "Ms. Harper, Mr. Jackson came here for this school year. We are very pleased to have him. He will be your new dance partner."
I gaped at her. "Excuse me, this must be a mistake. I only do solo."
Mrs. Hardfish gave me the evil eye. "Yes, I am very aware of that but I believe that we found the perfect match for you with Mr. Jackson." She left no room for discussion. "Furthermore, Mrs. Garret will not be your dance instructor. You will get a new one." She walked out of the dance studio, leaving me alone with Mr. Jackson.
An awkward and tense silence fell over us as I mustered Brian. Inwardly I cringed at all the bruises I'd get from him stepping on my feet. I wondered how many bruises he would give me until someone called it quits.
It had been like this all other times I had peen paired up with other male dancers.
"Soo..." He started, the first to break the silence. "You never did a partner dance?"
"I have, Mr. Jackson." I snapped, still angry at our principal. "I had to quit for the others were too bad." He raised his eyebrows at me.
"Don't look at me like that." I said even though I understood why he was so put off. I did sound like a bitch. I was just sleepy and couldn't control my words. "I'm a great dancer. Their techniques lacked some skills and I couldn't work with them. I'm praying you're good."
Brian looked baffled but quickly composed himself. He straightened his shoulders and took a few steps towards me until his face was only inches away from mine. I noticed that he had green eyes.
"I'll let you know that I'm a good dancer myself, Elizabeth." He said, his breath fawning over my face. Then he backed away and turned around to leave.
"Lizzy." I called to him. He turned around and looked confused.
"Don't call me Elizabeth." I said. "It's Lizzy. I hate Elizabeth."
He looked blankly at me before grinning. "Okay, see ya Elizabeth."
He turned around and walked out, leaving me alone and bewildered.
I just wanted to scream. I only met him and he already aggravated me to death. How the fuck am I supposed to dance with him when I couldn't even have a real conversation with him for five minutes?
Mentioned song: You Me At Six-Take Your Breath Away.
Thank you for reading and be safe.
D.