New Girls

New Girls- Chapter 2 (Ceralyn's Point of View)

*_~_*Chapter 2*_~_* Ceralyn's Point of View My miserable life went on. Due to what happened at recess that day, I told my teacher that I wanted to go to the office to lie down; I didn't feel well. Miss Evanz couldn't really say no to a "sick" kid, but even if she was going to, I guess something about my expression told her brain to just let me go. So she did. I slowly walked to the main office, hating everything about myself- how I couldn't(didn't) want to make any friends, how I dressed a little differently than the others, how I saw the world in a completely opposite way. I mean, for crying out loud, I tried to wash my hair with my water bottle! I couldn't settle myself, not when I felt so horrible. Not when I felt like I couldn't do anything. So, to distract myself, I concentrated on Irilie. Perfect Irilie Maddont. Pfft! I can beat her in anything, any day! I am prettier, more interesting- she has common blue eyes, common blonde straight hair. Who is she that can decide so suddenly not to be friends with me? Me! After all this, some little voice reminded me,"She can dance. You're just another clumsy, ditzy girl. She's graceful. You are not." Sadness replaced my haughtiness. The voice was right. I wasn't better than her at everything. But one fact I also realized in that very day, that very hour: I have the potential to be. After realizing this, I simply called my mom Mrs. Donnes at work. Our convo went like this...

"Hello, Dr. Donnes speaking. How may I assist you?"

"Umm... Mama? It's me, Ceralyn." I hadn't realized I'd been crying until my mom said, all concerned, "Honey? What's wrong? Tell me what's bothering you."

"Mama...I-I-I... I just w-wanted t-t-to come h-ome." When I get emotional, I tend to stutter. I've been working on it, but my mouth failed me once again.

"Ceralyn! Of course you can come home! My office hours are almost up, so I'll pick you up. Hmmm... I'll pick you up at one thirty, at the front foyer. How's that?"

"Its f-fine, Mama. Thanks. I-I think-k I just h-have to tell m-m-my teacher first." My voice wobbled.

"Thats alright. We'll settle this over a cup of hot chocolate and wafers, okay sweetie?" "Ok-kay. I'll see you then." "Bye-bye! Remember, one thirty, front foyer."

"Mm-hmm." The line went dead. It was nearly one, so I decided a little more rest would be fine. I wondered what I would say to my mom when we talked. That I really want to take dance classes everyday? And what kind of dancing? Should I tell her the full story? Or just plead for the classes? Now I wasn't so sure. But I HAD to get the dance lessons, one way or another.

*_~_*_~_*_~_*_~_*

"Ceralyn. Why were you crying?" My mother inquired.

"Ummm... I just- I just get bored a lot, you know, everyone else is always too busy to play with me, sooo... I just felt sad. And I want to have something to occupy my time. And exercise myself. With stuff like dancing..."

"Don't you have Irilie?" I didn't know why to say. So I didn't answer.

"Ceralyn, have a wafer. They're your favorite." Without a word I took one and began to nibble. My mom sighed. "I'm not going to pretend I don't know what you're talking about," I looked up in alarm, and before I could open my mouth, she held up her index finger to stop me from interrupting, and continued,"If you're having problems with friends, that's okay. Everyone's been there at some point in their life. So here's what. I'll let you take dance. But, you have to promise me that you won't quit. And that you'll talk to people."

"I promise."

"Remember, okay? You still have singing lessons every Monday night."

"Don't worry. I remember."

"Good. Now, what kind of dance classes do you want to take?"

"I want at least two. I have to take ballet AND jazz. I want to be one of those people who are so good that they're on their way to the Olympics!"

"Okay," my mom smiled. "Ballet and jazz it is. How many days a week?"

"I want to take ballet two times a week, and jazz two. Then, as I get better, I can take longer, and more, and better classes!"

"Hmm... How about Ballet on Saturday afternoons and Wednesday evenings... And jazz Sundays after church and on Tuesdays after school?"

"Awesome!" I couldn't believe how well this was working out for me! I started out the next Saturday fir my first ballet class. We watched videos on basic steps, and how to do it exacty right. This girl next to me whispered to me,"That ballerina looks like you. She's really pretty." I looked at her, stunned. And then I remember what my mom told me earlier this morning, at breakfast: Be nice. Make friends! Have fun! So I smiled back at her and said," Thanks. You remind me of that other one, Jessica."

" Really? Wow, thanks! What's your name?"

"Ceralyn Donnes. What's yours?"

"Mine's Laila. Laila Stanton."

"Hi! Do you want to be friends?"

"Sure!" So like that, at every ballet class, every Saturday and Wednesday, we talked, and became good friends. She turned out to have a knack for dancing. She told me the same. Laila came over to practice our moves, and ate lunch and went to movies afterwards. Every time we met up, Laila always had new jokes and stories to tell me. And after a couple of weeks, Laila and I considered each other as best friends. Meanwhile at Dayley Public School...