Lag

5.

"So, since you're brand new at this we are going to go slow. We won't do much today. I just want to get you into the swing of things. You're going to learn the basics before we get into any of the big stuff." Mrs. Garcia tells me as soon as I walk into the gym.

I stand in front of her clad in standard jogging gear not really sure what I was supposed to wear for these kinds of lessons. "Er, the basics?"

She nods her head sharply. "Yes, the basics. Just simple ball room dancing for now, then I'll teach you how to tango and salsa among other things. Now the first thing to do before getting started is to warm up."

She walks backwards a few paces to reach for the small stereo she brought with her from the music room. When she pushes the power button an upbeat Latin American instrumental fills the room.

"Alright. Now stretch your arms above your head and stretch..." I copy her motion of reaching upward and pointing my arms in an arrow shape. The lesson wasn't long like she had promised, the only thing I learned today was that I couldn't touch my toes. She sucked her teeth at the discovery and muttered something about 'When I'm done with you' and 'Best dancer Hill Crest has ever seen'.

I was completely unaware Mrs. Garcia the music teacher had a passion for dancing. She had made several pointed comments about it during our fifty minutes together. "I used to dance at all the jazz clubs and bars, anywhere they would let me. But no one appreciates talent anymore." Her small tirade was finished with a scorned scoff. 

Most fortunately I was saved by the bell, "I think you're pretty great at what you do, Mrs. Garcia. You have a lot of passion." I say to appease her as I bend down next to the bleachers to grab my bag. She smiles and nods appreciatively before collection her stereo with a slight bounce in her step.

It was strange to have this new curriculum crammed into my regular schedule, and even stranger that my mom found my music teacher of all people to give me private lessons. Mom had given me many sideways glances while on the phone setting up the lessons to make sure I had still wanted to dance. It had come together quickly. 

I lost my train of thought when I tripped over something large in the breezeway leading from the gym to the main school building. Luckily I catch myself before I completely hit the pavement. I turn and glance at the thing that I had ran straight into only to find Keenan on the ground covering his bloody nose. 

Keenan

The bloody nose was what I had expected but the kick in the back almost two minutes later threw me off. Before I even got a chance to look back at my attacker I see a girl fall to the ground and narrowly catching herself before her knees hit the concrete. I look at Camille confused but also relieved. She looked back at me with the same amount of confusion but her face softens when she realizes what she tripped over. 

"Please don't tell my mom." I plead automatically. No one ever finds me here, that's why they always gang up on me beside the gym. She examines my face as she quickly gets up. "What do they do to you?" Her voice cracks as she bends down to help me up. I take her outstretched hand and stand up with her guidance.

I give the classic shoulder shrug, "Nothing. Nothing happened." I try to give her a weak smile but she doesn't reciprocate it. Camille crosses her arms and looks at me firmly. "Who are they?" 

My shoulders sag as I drop drop them guiltily. "Just some kids in my grade. Just rough housing is all." 

'Just rough housing is all' is the phrase I give the counselor so she lets it go. Camille, however, doesn't bat an eye.

"I wont tell your mom." She says and I let out a sigh of relief. "But, this wont happen again." I glance back up at her quickly. "What do you mean?" 

She returns my shrug. "I mean I'm not going to find you like this again." 

My eyebrows knit together in confusion. "How are you going to stop them?"

"Stop who? It was just rough housing wasn't it?" I try to read the expression on her face but it's completely blank. 

Before I answer she hits me with a second question, "What time this week are you free? If you're still wanting to learn to dance that is." 

Getting jumped forty five minutes earlier and the thought of my mom finding out left my brain completely, "Tomorrow! I'm free tomorrow." 

Camille finally breaks a small smile, "Alright, let get to class."

Camille

After walking Keenan to his English class nonchalantly, I make a small detour to the other side of the school not caring about the repercussions of being late to math class will bring, I'm already Mrs. Edwards favorite. She will forgive me for not being punctual this one time.

I knock on Coach Wood's door and a moment later he approaches looking stern. "Can I help you?" He barks.

I nod completely unphased. "A few of your players are smoking weed in the breezeway beside the gym at free period. Luckily they got out of the way before principal cannon walked through."

Coach wood's expression hardened even more, "my players, what sport? What's there names?" He demands harshly.

I give him a fake shrug. "I dont watch sports. I dont know their names. But if you want them to keep from getting kicked off the team I suggest you keep and eye on that breezeway before they get caught."

"Were not loosing any championship on my watch." He growls. I give him a quick nod before leaving him standing in his door way.

It sickens me that this is what it takes to get things done but I'm also not ashamed to lie to get the ball rolling. It's about time Hilk Crest is held to its beloved standards.