Week 2, Day 3
"Point your toes!" Ms. Harrison yells out to us. I'm in a class of twelve and so far none of them have been nice enough to even smile in my direction. I focus on my reflection in the mirror. Straight back, head held up, pointed toes. Dance is nothing like writing. With writing I need mind and emotion coordination but in dance I need a mind and physical connection. We're all wearing matching black leotards and grey tights. My blonde hair is pulled up in a tight bun.
Ms. Harrison walks to the front of the room. "That's enough ballet for today. Don't forget, this is modern dance, we just need you to learn some ballet for the first semester, all right? Next week we'll begin on our jazz and tap unit and the week after that we begin hip hop so please be prepared. You are dismissed,"
I go to the corner of the room and grab my bag, pausing for a moment to pull my white shorts on. I shrug the bag onto my back and go back to my normal poor posture. I take the hair tie out and shake my hair loose, knowing very well that I probably look like a mess and not a hot one.
"Hello, there." An all to familiar voice comes from behind me. I jump, not expecting to see him for, like, the rest of my life.
"Oh, um, hi." I stammer.
"Sorry about yesterday," he brushes his hair off his forehead, "I was being a douchebag."
"You? No not at all!" I lie
"Oh hush, you know I was." I avert my eyes. "Hey, let me make it up to you. Let's head over to main camp and I'll buy you a coffee or something. Deal?"
A ghost of a smile makes its way onto my face, "Deal, but we have to run."
"Oh hell no, honey, I ain't running anywhere!"
"Where'd that perfect grammar go? And yeah, we are!" Not waiting for an answer, I grab his hand and sprint towards main camp.
"Clareeeeee!" He groans.
"Shut up and run!"
"I'm not buying you a coffee anymore!" he yells.
"Good, I'm buying you one."
"Fuck you!"
"You wish, bud!"
He stops running. "You know I do," Smirking he leans in. I raise an eyebrow, not thinking to move back. He's so close now that I can smell his breath. I begin to close my eyes before suddenly his hands move to my stomach and he starts tickling me! The nerve of that boy, I swear...I start laughing uncontrollably.
"Hunter!"
"Okay, okay, I'll stop." He removes his hands and brushes his hair back. "I'll stop tickling you," A smirk spreads across his face and he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder.
"Really?" My voice is unexplainably calm.
"Yep!" he begins to run and I remain perfectly still, my head next to his.
"This isn't hurting you in the least bit?"
"You don't know pain until..." his voice trails off.
"Until what?"
"Until you've been tickled by me!"
"Not again!"
"Not today but I have no promises against the future."
I sigh and hide a smile. He's different today. He seems happy
(A/N: Sorry for not updating in a while and super sorry for the short chapter! I've been crazy busy so I haven't had much time to update. Winter break is coming soon so I'll probably have more time then...hopefully. Well happy December, see you next update!)
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JugendliteraturNone of us are born dead, we just stumble upon it one day. Hey, I'm Clare and welcome to my life. I don't know how you found me but now that you're here, listen up. I go to a boarding school in Northern Michigan and this is where I met everyon...
