Punk Meets Pointe||m.c.

03

"Alright Adriana, please take a seat at the back table next to Michael, Mr. Clifford, raise your hand please," My maths that teacher spoke.

Suddenly, the colorful haired boy raised his hand.

This is going to be a great year.

I took the seat next to him, the chairs were more like lab tables then desks.

I mean, what maths teacher lets students work together?

At my ballet school, if we were to even ask for a partner we would be scolded.

"Hi I'm Michael!" The boy spoke with a smile.

"Hi Michael, I'm Adriana." I replied to him.

"So, do you mind if I see your schedule?" He asked, "I'd like to see if we have any of the same classes.

I wirelessly passed him the schedule; his eyes skimmed the paper, comparing this two schedules.

"Well apparently we're in all the same classes except your in a different type of art. I'm in Art Appreciation while you're in Artistic Expression." Michael infromed me.

I nodded at the information, not quite sure how to reply to the boy.

From up close, you could see he had kind of a 'Punk Rock' look that I've always admired, but my mother never let me take part in.

"Mum, it's a band t-shirt, it's suppose to be worn this way.'

I infromed her, motioning to the top I was wearing.

"Well I don't like it, change."

Our relationship had changed since my dad left.

Apparently 16 year olds these days needed their mum's fashion advince.

Ever since dad left, I'd been spending 5x more time at the ballet studio to avoid my mother.

She will never under stand

I blinked away the tears of the memory.

That, was the day my dad had called from prison begging for my mother.

She denied him, and he's been in prison ever sense.

"Uhm are you alright?" Michael asked me.

"Just fucking dandy," I muttered.