The Nerdy Ballerina

What the Hell?

When the bell rings, I get up, remembering the tutoring session I with Cecelia. I look in the library, the parking lot, and even the girl's bathroom, but I can't find her. Maybe she's in the gym. I doubt it, considering that she's a total nerd. But it's worth a shot. I walk to the gym, pulling the door open. I hear music, then see Cecelia, in a leotard. She's standing in that weird ballet position where your feet are sideways, and a song is playing. When the song speeds up, she moves onto her toes, which looks painful. Then she does that weird thing were you do the splits in the air, landing back on her toes. She spins multiple times then she sticks one of her legs behind her while spinning. As the song ends, she gets back in that weird position she started in. She sits on the bleachers, turning the music off. "Whoa," I say, speechless. She looks up, her face a mask of shock. "Of course." Cecelia says, throwing her arms up. "What the hell?" I say, staring at her toned legs. Whoa, that leotard is amazing. Like, she should wear that all day, everyday. "Excuse you?" Cecelia says, snapping her fingers. "My eyes are up here?" she says, pointing to her face. How long was I staring? I blush, then walk closer to her. "Dude, what was that? It was awesome, and sexy!" I say, standing in front of her. God, those legs. "That's called none of your business." she says, but I'm too busy looking at her legs. Like, dude. Those legs are smokin'. "That's it, I'm changing." Cecelia says, standing up. She pulls a pair of black leggings out her bag, walking past me. I'm tempted to follow her, but something tells me she wouldn't appreciate that. She comes back in leggings and a sweatshirt, a textbook in her arms. Oh yeah, studying. I'd rather study Cecelia's legs.