You Can't Hurt Me

Wet side story!

Race checked on his bag for the third time today, taking a sip of water from a bottle half way empty, and shifting from side to side. Today was the day.

After a nervous talk with Jack, he finally got the bravery to actually go. Especially when Miss Medda told Jack about the West Side Story production partnering up with the place.

He squared his shoulders and peered through the door, finding the eyes of someone on the other side looking very confused.

She walked up, and pushed at the door swinging it back and forth a bit.

"It's unlocked you know." She raised an eyebrow. Race blushed wildly and stuttered out how he didn't want to be rude. The girl laughed lightly.

"I'm Olive, I'll be directing the show." She held out her hand, and Race briefly panicked about the ordeals of a propped handshake he heard Davey drunk ramble about from Jacks phone before, then realized he was just weirdly staring at her hand which was worse and finally grabbed it, giving what he hoped was a firm shake.

Movement behind her caught his eye, he peered over to see a young women clapping loudly and calling out orders, he peered farther and people were eagerly dancing.

Olive noticed his gaze and smiled fondly.

"That's Ethel, she'll be helping out with the choreography and dance. As well as the stage acting itself." She added as an after thought.

Race squirmed when he saw the room full of experienced dancers, "I came for the uh- dance class then the audition after? This is my first show I'm not really experienced."

Olive smiled encouragingly, "of course, that's our advanced dance class. No, we are doing a show targeted towards beginners such as yourself. You have nothing to worry about sugarplum."

"Will uh..." he glanced over to Ethel who was yelling fast and furious words at someone talking, "am I... supposed to have experience."

Olive followed his gaze, landing on a impatiently pacing Ethel." "Ethel? Gosh no! She loves kids, the recitals in a few weeks and she's playing hardball."

Race swallowed nervously, maybe they were playing a bit too hardball for him.

A door burst open to his side, an antsy girl with a clipboard tapped her foot on the floor, "c'mon Olive, we have 27 children to audition and they are all waiting."

She glanced over at Race and sighed exasperated, "28! And you're standing here talking?"

"Oh calm your tits Ada," she winced, "pardon my French. Now you know I'm just waiting on Ethel. We agreed we were going to let them go through the dance class first and see how they do before the audition."

Ada tapped her foot impatiently but left her alone nonetheless, then her eagle eye landed on Race.

"What's your name?" Her voice a bit more welcoming.

"Well, my names Antonio but... uh... I prefer to be called Race."

"Love the energy of that! Just like a New York gang member, how perfect." She said quietly to herself, then grabbed Races hand.

"We seem to have a good number of people, we were going to close auditions but Medda convinced us to let you in."

"Oh!" He looked up surprised, "you know Miss Medda."

"Know her? Why we were her three leading ladies. Took us in as teens, if it weren't for her we'd be on the streets, it's because of her we formed this theater troupe! You're Kelly's kid right? Medda told us how he never shuts up about you!" She rambled a bit, rushing him through the hall.