Balancing Love ☞︎ A Jesse St. James fan fic

So She Can Trip Up, But When I Do It, I Might As Well Be Killing The Pope!

Over the past few weeks, Miranda and I have been hanging out a lot. We mostly talk about dance or the struggling feelings we deal with on an everyday basis. Miranda had recently broken up with her very toxic boyfriend.

Miranda was a good distraction. As was dance. With dance, I could just get lost in my feelings. I would loose focus in my surroundings. But with Miranda, she could either make me forget about Jesse and all his drama, or she would be there for me when I really needed to talk about it.

For some reason, I couldn't get Jesse out of my system! He was on my mind a lot and all the yearning for him was getting kind of old. I think it might've been the fact that we never really got any closure. He never figured out his feelings for me while I figured them out too quickly. In some weird way, I was fine with pining for a guy. Even if it was for a few months. It felt weirdly normal for a teenage girl; the life of total normal teenager was what I desperately wanted.

That Thursday, Miranda and I walked into the studio together, laughing about something one of her other friends ended up doing drunk at a party. We sat our stuff down and headed to the laptop.

"So, where's that teacher that usually follows you around? Did you fire her or something?" Miranda asks as I scroll through the music. I suck in a breath. Totally forgetting about her, harsh reality blows me back as I fall into my chair.

"No, no. I haven't..." I trail off. I lean forward, setting my elbows on the chair and looking at her seriously. "Well, when I went to Ohio with Jesse, I didn't exactly tell Madame that I was going. My dad told me that she seemed like she wasn't in the greatest of moods after hearing about it. So now that I've returned, I'm terrified to call her and schedule a class." I explain slowly, letting her grasp the seriousness of this. Miranda exhales loudly.

"Wow... and she's really scary- you are so screwed." Miranda sputters out before falling into a fit of hysterics. I try and hold back my own laughter after seeing her so amused.

"Stop it! Stop it..! This is serious! If you find my body in a few days, you'll know who to question!" I shout out though the room, causing her to laugh even more.

I end up letting out a few chuckles before Miranda calms down her laughter.

"Geez, girl. I don't know how you're gonna handle this, but I wish you luck," She grins, walking up to the laptop and seeing the music selection. "Ooh! This one, you told me you made a dance to this? I wanna see." Miranda nods to it. I look at her in surprise before shrugging and putting the curser on the song. I wrap up my shoes and walk to the floor.

"You can hit play." I say after getting into fourth position.

The music plays and I start to dance. The dance immediately goes into a turn. This dance was quicker and requires more flexibility than most of my other dances. It reminded me of mike Chang and his moves, which resulted in me bringing it up to Miranda.

About half-way through the song, the door bangs open, causing me to enter back into the real world. Lucky for me, I didn't stumble. Instead, I finished my turn but unfortunately ended up landing harshly on my back leg. I sucked in a breath and left position as I realized Miranda had stopped the music.

That was no matter anymore as all the color drained from my face. I froze in my place, hoping that if I stood still enough, I would disappear from the human eye. Because standing right there, in the middle of the doorway, was a thing far scarier than pennywise. Madame Resnakov.

She stood there, tall and caked up as ever. Her face looked darker than usual; and the make-up had nothing to do with it. Her cane click clacked against the floor as she slowly walked in. While I thought she would walk over to me and give me a piece of my mind, instead, she walked over to Miranda and peered down at her.

Miranda wasn't lookin so hot either. She was paler then a polar bear and stiffer than a board. Miranda's mouth was gaping like a fish. It looked like she wanted to say something but I wasn't sure if that was wise.

"Do you dance, girl?" Madame asked. It shocked both of us. For one, she wasn't talking to me. Then for two, instead of yelling at her to get out or asking why she was even here in the first place, she asked if she could dance.

Miranda did not answer. I bet she really wanted to, too. But she was still frozen, even more shocked and possibly frightened now. Still gaping like a fish out of water.

"Answer me, girl!" Madame screeched.

"Y-yes, ma'am." Miranda stuttered our. I winced for her.

"It's Madame. Not ma'am, not miss, not my first name nor my last. Madame has sufficed for the last thirty-eight years, it will continue to be sufficient." Madame shouted. Miranda stammered in her movements before she nodded clearly.

"Yes, Madame." She correct. Madame suddenly slammed her cane against the floor.

"Come. Lace up your shoes and get onto the floor. I wish to see you dance together." She instructed. Miranda nodded, hurrying off of her chair and over to her shoes. She tried to go as fast as she could, fearful Madame would lose patience in her. She trotted to the floor once her shoes were laced properly. Madame had yet to look and me and it was getting to be quite aggravating yet terrifying. It seemed she was more angry about the sudden leave then father let on.

Miranda and I stood side-by-side. Of course Miranda was a lot more taller than myself. She was also more leggy than I was. Something that helped dancers a great deal.

Madame walked up to us and slowly judged our readying forms. She barley glanced over me, an action at that made my jaw clench, no matter how much I might've deserved it.

"Is she going to tell us what we're dancing too?" Miranda asked in a whisper.

"Wait for it." I respond. We stood completely still as Madame walked over to the laptop and pressed play on the music.

The song played was a musical piece known for enacting ballerinas to do a series of turns. The difficulty laid in being able to transition gracefully from one turn into the next.

Madame watched in the corner as we danced. Her gaze was distracting enough so that I couldn't go to the happy place that I went to every time I danced. It yanked me right out of it whenever I started to feel it. Now was when I desperately needed it. When I wanted to let my body take over and do the moves from muscle memory. Or, that's how it always seemed.

In the midst of the dance as the two of us moved and twirled around, Madame rose up from her seat and started walking over to us. I slightly winced. I was really hoping Madame wasn't going to yell at Miranda. I had noticed Miranda faltering a few times, her knees were wobbly, her turns weren't sharp, and her breath was becoming hard and noticeable. I was hoping Madame had missed most of it from the far seat she sat on.

Madame walked up to us while we slowly shifted our leg, turning our bodies front back and side as we had to hold the other leg up in form (I can't remember the name of the move). Once again Miranda was faltering and I feared for Madame's reaction. But as we turned again, she didn't say anything. My brows furrowed from the confusion. This wasn't like her at all.

After moving onto the next turn, Madame gave Miranda a firm nod.

"Nicely done." She complimented before walking back over.

Miranda caught my eye and nervously looked between the two of us. My mouth wanted to drop down in shock but I resisted the temptation as to not break form. She complimented her?! After everything, she said 'nicely done'?! She has never once in my life give me a heart-felt compliment. Even when far more experienced critics, said I was astounding...

I couldn't believe this was how Madame was reacting to my absence. She was acting like a teenage girl for gods sake. I just couldn't believe it was happening! So it's like she can trip up, but when I do it, I might as well be killing the pope by how she reacts!

After we all finish the class, Madame walks out of the studio without another word. Miranda and I wordlessly unwrap our shoes and get all our stuff together. As we finish up, we walk out of the studio building and Miranda looks down at me with a slight smile.

"Well, she wasn't so bad."

We then proceed to burst out in laughter.