Prima Ballerina *Jelena Ballerina Series* (Part 1)

Chapter 8: The Early Bird

Selena's P.O.V.

Out of breath, I arrive next to Forrest. He hands me my coffee which I more than needed. My mouth had gone dry from all my running and the quarter of the toast I had eaten. The other three-quarters had been stolen out of my hand and I wasn't willing to fight them for it. Plus it looked like they needed it more than I did. 

The caramel flavored drink glides down my throat. Forrest announces my name along with my drink. After I take several swallows, I announce his drink. He patiently waited to drink his coffee until I announced it. Happily, he takes one gulp then raises his eyebrows at me with anticipation. We begin to walk down the crowded street. Since I was running behind, I told Forrest to head to the studio. I ran as fast as my feet could take me to catch up to him.

He nudges my shoulders, "So you and Clay Grant, huh?" He wiggles his eyebrows at me. I push him off to the side while scoffing. Forrest makes remarks about Clay and how we could be a great couple. He's worse than Taylor.

"We're not going on a date! We're just having a meet-up to discuss his dumb theory," I explain.

"Sure, we'll say that," he slyly winks.

Rolling my eyes, I state, "Let's focus on dance. Alright?" He nods. We maneuver past herds of people to get to the studio. 

* * *

One of the main doors is slightly open. Although, I am on the sidewalk, I can smell the fresh polish on the floor. Forrest takes my coffee cup to dispose of it before we enter the studio. The only drink allowed in the studio are water. He rushes back over to my side and I ask him for the time.

Despite running late, what others would say, we arrived exactly one hour early, but to me and Forrest, we were an hour late. As soon as he finishes telling the time, we run into the studio. The front desk is empty. It looks naked without Charlie sitting there. 

We go into dressing room one. None other than Resa Landing is in here. She is dressed in her formal ballet attire and is tidying up the dressing room by sweeping.  She looks over at Forrest with a semi-smile. When she looks at me, she points the handle of the broom at me. Her left brow raises.

"So you show up late without even bothering to do your hair?" she scoffs.

Growling, I place my dance bag higher on my shoulder. My hands go up to my hair to feel my bun. There are many flyaways and half of my hair is coming out. 'Was I running that fast?' Quickly, I undo it and fix it. Years of ballet have paid off for fixing hair perfectly and efficiently.

She brings the broom down and continues to sweep. Resa hums, sweeping closer to us. 'Why is she still sweeping? The dressing room is spotless.' Resa asks us to move since she would like to sweep the doorway. We slowly move out of her way, just to irritate her.

"Resa, how long have you been here?" Forrest questions.

After a few more sweeps, she leans the broom against the wall. She whips around and sassily places her weight onto one side of her body. Resa then takes Forrest's dance bag from him and begins to take it over to its destined cubby. Our eyes follow her, waiting for her response.

"I've been her since 6. It's a good thing I have a key because the judges didn't arrive until half an hour later," she explains. I'd love to hear how she got a key to the studio, but if I asked I would have to hear another story. I've heard more than enough stories today; I don't need anymore. All I need to focus on is the results of the scholarship.

"I'd hurry in here if I were you. You're not the only two who had the idea of coming partially early," she says walking over to the door. We stand near the side of the doorway, with our heads tilted at her.