Wonderland

How It Starts

Troublemaker.

That was what I immediately thought when I saw him. His messy brown hair, smirking pink lips, glinting green eyes. His clothes were wrinkled and I don't even want to know what that stain is, ew.

He was here because of a punishment and we both knew it. But clearly there was something wrong with the school's way of thinking if this is the best compromise they can think of.

I didn't expect this when Ms. Quintin called me to her office. It was a day off from practice when my friend Charlie passed by me on the hallways and told me she was looking for me.

When I got to her I office I didn't need to knock but I still did. I was trying to slow down the moment before everything else began. I knocked twice. "Come in," a kind voice said.

Ms. Quintin's room was a mess. There were books scattered all around the tiny room with random things sticking out as if she couldn't find a bookmark to mark her pages. A third of her room was composed of albums and records, from country to contemporary to house music. The window facing the school parking lot served as the background to a desk where a thin woman sat.

Ms. Quintin is as messy as her room. Her blonde mane was sticking out of her bun and her Reyban glasses were at the tip of her nose. She was, however, graceful and every movement was light. My school's dance teacher was beautiful.

"You rang?" I asked nervously and sat down in front. It was surprisingly comfortable.

Ms. Quintin gave me a smile. "Yes, Rebecca. I wanted to talk about the Annual Dance," started. "You're the only dancer that's left without a partner and without a partner you cannot dance." My face contorted. "So I found you a partner," my face relaxed. "He starts dancing with you tomorrow. Just a reminder, he's not that good of a dancer but he can move so I hope you can work with that."

"Oh. Who is he?" I asked.

Ms. Quintin winced. "William Stone."

And now here he is. "You're late," my eyebrows raising and my arms on my hips. His lips tugged slightly at the corners. "And you're not wearing the right clothes," I said.

He shrugged his shoulders. "So?" An eyebrow arched. "I look fine," he said. He examined his self on the mirrored walls and shrugged again.

"You're not going to be able to dance in those," I said infuriated. "Next time wear tights."

"But what if I get a boner?"

"Please. You wouldn't like anyone here."

He looked at me, smirked and said "but what if I do?"

"Funny."

"Let's begin," I told him.

It started with a waltz.