Imagine That: Fifth Harmony

Normani • Embarrassing Crush Moment

Your POV

"Hurry up, Y/N!" I hear my dance teacher, Mrs. Palmer, call from outside the changing room doors.

"I'm almost done!" I call back, tying my bobble around my ponytail.

You see, I have dance rehearsals today and being the idiot I am, I forgot about it and now I'm late. So now, all the students in the class, along with the teacher, are waiting for me to hurriedly get changed. You would think the teacher would start without me to teach me a lesson for being late, but nope. Mrs. Palmer loves to embarrass her students when they are late, so here I am. Rushing like no tomorrow.

I hurriedly exit the changing rooms and walk down the small hallway before entering the dance studio. It's a large room with mirrors completely covering the walls, that way we can see what we are doing at all times.

"About time, Y/N," Mrs. Palmer says with a stern voice, crossing her arms and tapping her bare foot against the wooden floor. Her red hair has one huge curler in it that keeps it out of her face for when she dances, and she always wears it; everyone makes fun of her behind her back because it's like she has a second head, and with that thought in mind right now, I try my best not to laugh.

All of the other students are chatting between each other, sitting in their little friendship groups on the floor. They are probably thankful that I'm late because that means they get a late start and more rest time before they begin. Then there's Mrs. Palmer who is looking as annoyed as ever.

"Sorry," I apologise to her quietly before speed walking over to the corner of the room to sit with my two friends who are trying to stifle their giggles at my tardiness.

As Mrs. Palmer walks to the stereo in the other corner of the room, probably to find the right music for today's rehearsals, I sit down cross legged in front of my friends.

"Forgot again, I see," Natalie, my dance friend, says with a teasing smile, as she finishes tying her blonde hair out of her face.

Yeah, I never said this wasn't a regular occurrence.

"Is everyone annoyed?" I ask her, scrunching my face up as I fear the answer.

"Nah, they're all good," my other dance friend, Lucy, says with a light laugh. "But I would suggest setting some sort of alarm on your phone to remind you to attend. If you come late again, I'm pretty sure Mrs. Palmer is going to throw her curler at you, and I don't think she would want to make such a sacrifice."

She leans to the left slightly as she looks behind me and to Mrs. Palmer, so Natalie and I turn around and look too. Mrs. Palmer is currently struggling to find the right songs and as a reliever, she seems to be petting her curler as if that will be the solution to her problems. The girls and I look away and burst into laughter at the sight.

"Yeah, I think you're right," I say in between laughter, clutching my stomach to regain myself, but failing miserably.

Five minutes later, everyone stops talking as they hear Mrs. Palmer clapping her hands together, the loud sound echoing off the walls.

"I need you all to stand up and we are going to do some group stretches," she informs us, standing at the front of the room so she can teach us.

We all groan in unison, but stand up and spread out in the room, getting ready. Everyone hates doing group stretches because we just prefer to do our own stretches. Also, Mrs. Palmer always makes us do difficult things that no one can be bothered to do.

"First things first," she begins after we all settle down, "stretch your arms like this." She stretches her right arm over her chest and uses her left arm to hold it on top. "Hold this position for ten seconds on both arms and then do the same thing again, but behind your head."