The Principal

Chapter 5

The alarm blared at 6 a.m. I swung my legs out of bed, the cold floor sending a shiver through me. Grabbing my towel, I took a quick shower, the water waking me up fully.

After brushing my teeth, I applied lotion, paying special attention to my skin—especially my nipples, which tended to get itchy during the day.

Back in my room, I put my music on speaker and opened my closet. I always picked out my outfit the night before, saving time for my hair in the morning. Today was the big showcase before February break, and afterward, I was supposed to meet up with Chris's cousin.

I tied my hair into a sleek, high ponytail, adding a touch of gloss and adjusting my silver septum ring. My outfit was casual but practical: black-and-white ripped sweatpants, a white crop top, and my pink Adidas. I wanted to be comfortable enough to lift and move things backstage.

As I walked into the school, I headed straight for the dance studio. My task for the day was to move clothing racks up to Mr. Carny's room. Struggling with two heavy boxes in my arms, I glanced up to avoid bumping into anyone—and that’s when I saw him.

Mr. Smith stood at the end of the hallway, ensuring students went to their classes. His green dress shirt and black slacks made him look effortlessly polished. As I neared him, I said, "Good morning," my voice careful and light.

He turned, his curls shifting slightly, and his serious expression softened into a smile. "Good morning," he replied, his voice smooth yet distant.

Hours passed in a blur of carrying costumes. By the time I finally took a break, the humidity had left me sweating. I headed to the cafeteria, relishing the cool air as I filled a cup of water and drank it down in seconds.

Glancing around the room, I spotted Mr. Smith in the corner, focused on his laptop. He never seemed to take a real break. I sat at a table across from him, plugging in my earbuds and zoning out for a few minutes.

Time slipped away. Realizing I had to get back, I rushed out, only to run into a petite girl with purple hair. Out of breath, she told me, "April, they’ve been looking for you everywhere!"

"I just needed a quick break," I explained.

"Well, hurry!" she insisted, darting down the hallway.

Back in the dressing room, chaos greeted me—costumes strewn everywhere. I fixed a rip in a dancer’s tights, barking out orders for everyone to tidy up. As the room settled, I found Cathine in the nearly empty biology classroom and pulled her away to the cafeteria for a quick escape.

As we entered, we saw Mr. Ron, the anatomy teacher. He was about 5'10", with salt-and-pepper hair and striking blue eyes. Despite being in his mid-30s, he didn’t look it. Cathine froze, and I snapped my fingers to bring her back to reality.

I knew she had a crush on him—half the girls did. We walked past, settling near the window with the view of palm trees. Cathine leaned in, whispering, "Did you really not notice Mr. Smith checking you out?"

I frowned, skeptical. "What?"

She laughed, eyes twinkling. "I’m telling you, April. He looked at you like he wanted to take a bite."

A flush of warmth spread through me, but I dismissed it. "You’re imagining things."

She shook her head. "I know what I saw."

I changed the subject, brushing off the flutter in my chest. There was no way Mr. Smith noticed me like that... right?

The rest of the day flew by. As the showcase began, I took a moment to text Cathine. Her teasing about Mr. Smith continued, but I pushed it aside, focusing on my work.

Later, I was cleaning up when Mr. Smith called my name. I walked over, trying to steady my pulse. "Yes, sir?"

He smiled, eyes warm. "I have something to show you."

He pulled up a video on his computer. A guy was performing on So You Think You Can Dance.

"He went to school with me," Mr. Smith explained, a nostalgic light in his eyes. As the video played, I couldn’t help but admire his enthusiasm. But then I realized I’d been staring at his lips, zoning out completely.

When had he stopped talking? Embarrassed, I quickly made an excuse and left.

As the day wound down, I sat against the cool lockers, muscles aching. I closed my eyes, enjoying the quiet until footsteps approached. I squinted against the light, and when the figure stepped closer, my breath caught—Mr. Smith again, looking like some kind of angel.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice gentle.

I nodded, trying to keep my composure. "Yes, sir. Just waiting for Joseph."

He furrowed his brows. "Joseph from my junior class?"

"Yeah, the Hispanic one," I replied, trying to keep the conversation casual.

A noise from the staircase broke the moment. Joseph and his girlfriend appeared, followed by Mr. Ron and another teacher. Relief washed over me, but part of me couldn’t shake the lingering tension.

Later, as I packed up to leave, I caught Mr. Smith watching me again. Our eyes met, and for a second, the world narrowed. Then I turned away, the moment slipping like sand through my fingers.