Dance On [Austin Mahone Fan Fiction]

Chapter 3: Who is He?

Once at school I meet up with my two best friends, Beth and Demi. The three of us walk to the dance gym and meet up with the some other girls on the team. We all hide out in the gym until its time for school to actually start. Beth has had her headphones in since she walked in the building. She flips her long blonde hair back and forth. Just watching her makes my neck hurt.

"Beth, you're giving me a neck ache." I say laughing at her.

She doesn't hear me, and continues to dance around. I take off my sandal and throw it at her, barely hitting her in the stomach.

"What?" She asks taking out a headphone and flinging my shoe back at me.

"What are you listening to? You're dancing around like a freak!" I say.

Beth makes a face. "Austin Mahone's cd came out yesterday, and I'm in love with it!" She says still dancing.

I just stare at her. "Am I supposed to know who that is?"

She stops dancing and stares at me. Even Demi joins the conversation and stares at me.

"You don't know who Austin Mahone is?" Beth yells.

A bunch of other dancers turn and glare at us, some walk over.

"Who doesn't know who Austin Mahone is?" One of the freshman asks.

"Calli!" Beth squeals. "Everyone knows who he is!"

"He's from San Antonio!" Demi says fishing through her bag. "He uploaded videos to YouTube then he got signed!" She pulls her phone out of her bag and presses a few buttons before thrusting it in my face. "Here watch! This one is my favorite!"

I take the phone from her and watch.

"He looks like he's twelve!" I say laughing. "He hasn't even hit puberty yet!" I stare at the screen a little bit longer. "Come on! This is a Jesse McCartney classic!"

Demi takes the phone from me and pushes a couple more buttons. "Here this is one of his singles. It's called What About Love."

I watch him sing and dance, but I'm still not a fan. "I'm still not feeling him. Sorry guys." I say handing Demi her phone.

She and Beth stare at me, their jaws dropped.

The ten minute bell rings, warning us to get to class. We grab our stuff and head to first period.

My first period is math, which couldn't be a worse time to have it. First off its algebra. Second my teacher is a male, and all the girls are in love with him. Thirdly I couldn't care less about math. I'm going to be a dancer I don't need to know what the square root of a thousand is, or how to find X.

Mr. Finch is walking around handing back our last tests. He drops mine on my desk. I flip it over and see my grade. Seventy three, written at the top in his sloppy, red pen, handwriting. That's better than the last one.

Finally the bell rings, but Mr. Finch calls me to his desk.

"Calli, you need to start studying and trying in this class, or you won't make it to your senior year."

I just stare at him. He gives me the same speech after every test. "Mr. Finch, I am trying. I just don't understand why I need to know all of this."

"Callista." He sighs. I flinch. No one calls me by my real name unless I'm in trouble. "I understand this year has been rough since your dad died," I flinch again. No one talks about my dad's death. "and you've got that silly contest coming up, but you need to find a way to redirect your focus back on school."

I've had enough of him. He's always talked down on my dancing. My temper was short when he mentioned my lack of focus, but now that he's mentioned my dad's death and my silly contest, I'm flooring.

Instead of risking detention for back talking, I glare at him and say "Fine. I'll focus on Algebra instead of my silly contest." And walk out the door, ignoring him call out my name.

The next four periods go by so slowly. Finally it's my fifth period performing arts class. This is the class where I can do what I love: performing. We have vocal lessons, acting lessons, and for some modeling lessons. Our teacher, Mrs. Garcia, is super supportive. She's one of the very few people in the community that believe in our so called crazy dreams.

The end of the school day comes and I'm at my dance practice. We're all rehearsing routines for a contest tomorrow. The contest is in Austin and there are over one hundred people competing. In the end fifteen people will get chosen for scholarships to any performance school in the world. My dream school is in Los Angeles. I've never been there, actually I've never even left Texas, but I've always wanted to go.

After rehearsals our director, Miss Hayes, calls us over. She looks around at all of us, smiling.

She moved here from Florida over a year ago and the town loves to talk about her. They say she's filling our heads with nonsense dreams. Like Mrs. Garcia, she believe we can do big things one day.

Once we're all standing around her she looks at us individually. "Tomorrow's a big day." She says. "Make sure you get a good night sleep, eat a good breakfast, and don't stress over this. I believe in all of you. I know there are twenty of you, and only fifteen will win, and it may not even be any of you that get it this time. But don't you dare give up on yourselves. You're all so strong and beautiful. I know tomorrow you will make everyone believe in your dreams. No matter what I will be proud." Everyone hugs Miss Hayes goodbye and heads home. She asks me to stay behind though.

"Calli, is your mom going to be there tomorrow?" She asks.

I look down, tucking hair behind my ear. "No." I whisper. "Someone has to look after Grey."

Miss Hayes hugs me. She knows how rough this past year has been for me and has always been a shoulder to cry one for me. "We'll make her proud tomorrow okay?" She whispers. "I believe in you Calli. Tomorrow everything will change for you. I just know it."

She lets me go and we walk out to our cars to head home.

After I'm home, I fix dinner and put Grey to bed. Once my homework is done and I've showered, I crawl into bed praying what Miss Hayes said will be true. 'Tomorrow everything will change.'