Don't let me fall (Lesbian story)

Rhea's replacement

My alarm wakes me up at 5:30am. I sight.

-Back to the real world, I say to myself.

It's the first real day back on dance training. Well, the training never stop, but today it's the first day of the dance school year here are Kirov. I check my schedule. I have to do one hour at the gym, then shower and food, then three hours of English, then two hours of ballet class, then lunch, then three hours of math, then two hours of personal training with my professor for the competition, then stretching and shower again, then dinner, then two hours of homeworks and finally one hour of free time and then back to bed. And tomorrow it's the same thing but the classes I have changes. I get up and put on my gym clothes. I'm always the first at the gym. I guess nobody is has motivated as me. I'm running my two miles on the treadmill when Graham, Paul and Emilia walks in.

-Hi guys, I say.

-Hey O, Paul and Emilia says.

-Hi baby, Graham says, leaning in for a kiss. How's the workout?

-Boring, I say. Please motivate me!

He winks, takes off his shirt and start doing chin ups in front of me.

-Is this motivating enough?

I laugh.

-Not bad!

I finish my run, then it's push-ups and squats and chin ups and a little stretch so I won't hurt myself. In the shower I put the water ice cold and it feels heavenly. I don't feel like wearing anything but a sweater and some sweat pants with slippers, but I still put on jeans and a nice t-shirt. At breakfast there's sausages and eggs and fruits and low fat yogurt. The it's English period. English is my favorite class because I love to write and read, but I hardly have any time to do that.

-So we will be reading the Great Gatsby this semester, my teacher Martin says.

We had the same teachers for three years and again this year, so we call them by their first names. When he announces we'll be reading that book, everybody sights, but I'm kind of excited. Martin starts talking about the story and the era it refers to and stuff and I stare out the window at the leafs moving outside. I think about the subway dancer from yesterday. She was pretty good, but I don't remember ever seeing her before. A car turn in and stop in the circular driveway in front of the main door. A tall black man with a nice uniform gets out and start carrying a big suitcase to the main door. A tall women followed by a younger girl walks in behind the man with the suitcase. Is it a new girl? She looks too old to be in middle school, so or she'll be part of the sophomore cohort, or the senior. The bell rings and we head for the studios. There are 4 studios at Kirov, and the seniors usually uses the A studio. I change in my leotard and tights and put on my pointe shoes. I walk in with Graham and Emilia, holding Graham's hand and laughing at Emilia's funny story about her summer in her home country, Italia. We drop on the floor and start stretching, still laughing at how Emilia stole a bottle of wine from her parents and went dancing on the roof with her boyfriend. Frank, our ballet teacher, walks in with his severe look. He's a great teacher, but there isn't really any place for laughing in is class.

-Hi Frank, we three sing when he passes in front of us.

-Emilia you're not stretching to you maximum, it doesn't do anything. Stretch properly!

We get up and at the barre.

-First position, plié, dégagé, retiré, à la seconde, tilt, hold it! Again, that was awful!

We start again, and again, and again. In ballet there's a lot of repetition! It's pretty much always the same thing but always better, always harder. Same music and same dance steps, but the jumps are higher, we count 7 spins instead of 4, we hold that arabesque a little longer. We just left the barre when someone knocks on the door. Our headmaster, Miss Nolen walks in with two other women.

-Excuse me, Frank, to stop your class. Senior class, may I introduce to you Miss Alaska Sailor. She'll be graduating with you this year. I count on you to help her adjust and feel like home.

We all turn our heads to the new girl. Tall, thin, with dark brown hair and gracious movement. She looks just like every white girl ballerina I've met. She's looking down at her phone, but just then she lift her head. Her dark eyes meet mine and I suddenly recognize her, she's the subway dancer! She recognizes me too, gives me a small smile that seams to mean "so that's why you we're such a stuck up bitch when I handed you that pamphlet". Miss Nolen and the other women leave the room, talking in low voices, and the new girl stay right were she was, looking at us. Frank waves her to come to him. She walks slowly, taking her sweet time, her long hair flipping from side to side when she walks.

-Stand up straight, he says while putting a finger on top of her head to represent a straight line from her feet to her neck and then the center of her head.

She does, lifting up her chin, her face serious. She's not dress to dance, but she execute every small movement Frank asks her too. We all look at her in silence, then at each other. She is very good, probably better than everyone in here, even me. When Frank is done asking her dance moves, her gives her a smile and shake her hand. We all look at each other, surprised and confused.

-Frank never smiles, Graham whispers to me.

-I know!

Frank claps his hands so we get back to work and asks for us to perform the pas de deux that we've been working on in pair. Graham and I go first because we're always first. Frank corrects Graham port de bras at some place but has nothing to say to me, and I look over to the new girl to see if she's impress with my performance, but she's not even looking, she's texting, her hair half in her face. I kinda disappointed that she didn't watch me show off, dancing is a lot about competition and showing off, but I just forget it and go back to work. She might be good, but I have all year to show her who's the best!