How You Gonna Stop Us Now

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//Beckett//

Miles, V and I stand nervously in the dance studio as my mom enters, clipboard in hand. She's one of the scariest people at Keaton and can intimidate just about anyone. Including me.
"Morning Ms. Helsweel," V says brightly, giving my mom a smile. Ms. Helsweel gives a stiff nod in response and V looks down. My mom and V's interactions at home and at school are so vastly different, you wouldn't even know they're the same people. When V is at my house, my mom adores her. At school, she still adores her, but it's because V is an amazing dancer, not as my girlfriend.
"Well, we don't have all day!" Ms. Helsweel snaps when none of us make a move to begin our routine. The three of us spring into action, not wanting to feel Helsweel's wrath. We run our performance straight through, and it's probably one of the best rehearsals we've ever had.
"I didn't hate it," Ms. Helsweel tells us looking thoughtful.
"The foot work in the second verse was disastrous. Fix it," she demands. We repeat the second verse again. And again. And again. A half an hour later, Helsweel looks satisfied with that section of our routine.
"Satisfactory. Get water if you must. Then, again," she orders. V and I practically jump to get water and Miles joins us.
"I played that verse so many times, I can't feel my fingers because I was pressing the guitar strings," he informs us.
"I think I just got another five blisters on my feet," V adds with a cringe.
"Same. And I'm surprised I haven't dropped V on that last lift yet," I add jokingly. V glares at me.
"Don't. You. Dare." She growls. I raise my hands in mock surrender.
"Back to work!" Ms. Helsweel shouts at us.
"Back to torture," Miles mutters.
"Hey, they don't call her 'Hell on Wheels' for nothing," V tells him seriously. We all laugh before we see the icy glare Ms. Helsweel is giving us and rush back to our positions. We continue our work for another hour before Helsweel finally calls it quits.
"That wasn't, the worst I've seen," she states with a half smile.
"Ms. Morita and Mr. Bradstreet. You are aware that there is a Prima competition this weekend?" She asks. V and I nod our heads.
"Good. Preform a duet. Make sure it wins," she tells us before turning around and exiting the studio. V stares at the door, mouth open.
"The competition is on Saturday! That's three days to come up with choreography and perfect the dance!" She exclaims. I give her a lopsided grin.
"Then we better get practicing," I respond.
"Why would she tell you this now?" Miles asks, looking alarmed for us. I shrug.
"That's Helsweel for you," I tell him giving him a slap on the back. Miles shudders.
"No wonder you said you were going to transfer to the music program when you met Park," he says to V. She nods her head seriously.
"But on the bright side, did you hear what Helsweel said about our routine. She said it wasn't the worst she's seen! With a half smile!" V says excitedly.
"And that's a good thing?" Miles asks, raising an eyebrow.
"That's basically the highest praise you'll get from Helsweel," I inform him.
"So we've totally got this. If Helsweel thinks our routine was good, we shouldn't have to worry. As long as we keep rehearsing, we should have this in the bag," V says confidently.
"Cool. As much as I'd love to stay and play until my fingers bleed, Jax is having a crisis with the project Park assigned us, so I gotta go do damage control," Miles says, cringing as he reads a message on his phone. V grimaces too.
"Yeah. Maybe you should run. Prevent as many casualties as possible," she tells him. With that, Miles grabs his guitar and rushes out of the studio to babysit a fellow classmate.
"So, who exactly is this Jax kid?" I ask.
"Another music kid. Scrawny, major goof. You two would be friends," she replies. I give her a look.
"Very funny. Now, what are we gonna do about this weekend?" I ask. V sighs.
"I dunno, but I don't want to be on your mom's bad side, so we better figure this out," she says.
"Yeah," I agree. With that, we continue on with hour number three of rehearsals.

Word Count: 744

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