I Thought Real Men Don't Dance

Helloo...

I was a teeeeeeeeeeensy bit bored the other day, so I wrote another chapter.

it's not very good, mind!

loveyouall<3

Polly:L

Two weeks dragged slowly by, with nothing much to keep me from going insane. I waited anxiously to hear back from the people of: 'Shoshanna Lake School of Dance' It was a boarding school for 16+ kids, who wanted to be dancers. I had auditioned for SLSD, and another dance school, 'Haddon Dance School'. Obviously, SLSD was my first choice, but it wouldn't be so bad, if I got into HDS rather than the other.

I've always danced. Ever since I was walking, My mum used to say that I never learnt to walk, that I learnt to dance. It sounds SO lame now, but I thought it was dead cool, when she first told me. Apparently, I was such a nuisance, that I broke her car whilst dancing. No idea how that happened, I was only 6 at the time. I wouldn't stop 'groovin'... My mum and dad finally had enough, and paid for me to get classes in Tap, Jazz, Modern, Ballet, Lyrical, Street and Gymnastics. Of course I only started out with Ballet, but then I found out about Modern, then Jazz, then Gym... it went on like that. You would think that I would be really good at all styles of dance by the way I carry on, but no, I'm useless in tap, and my gymnastics teacher hates me! All because I can't do handsprings. Jeez Louise!

I also hadn't heard much from Trevor lately either. Not since I met Tristan.

"He never did look me up..." I thought aloud. James shot me a weird look, as I stared into space.

*Good! If he has found you, you wouldn't be alive anymore. Would you? No. You know why? Because you would be in someone's belly.*

Trev! I missed you, ol' buddy!

*Umm, no, you didn't. You missed TRISTAN THE PSYCO!* Trevor wasn't happy.

Your never very cheery are you, Trev. You need to lighten up a bit. Maybe you should take a holiday. I hear Australia is nice this time of year.

*Shutup. You're the crazy one. Talking to an imaginary voice in your head!*

Go away then! I was just being nice. It's not very polite to ignore people when they are talking to you. Gawd...!

*whatever*

"Jay? There's someone on the phone for you!" Mum called down the stairs to me.

I ran up the stairs, to see my mother, smiling manically down at me. Talk about psychotic smiles...

"It's the people from SLSD!" She whispered excitedly. I snatched the phone from her and shooed her away. She sighed melodramatically before stalking off down the corridor.

"Hello?" A lump began to form in my throat.

"Jayce Lloyd? This is Adrian Lake calling." A crisp voice crackled out the end of the receiver.

"Oh, how may I help you Mr Lake?"

"I'm just phoning to let you know how your audition went."

"Oh right..." I crossed my fingers, praying to God he was going to say I was through

"We think you have great potential as a dancer, however some of your timing was slightly off in you peice. Did you choreograph that yourself?"

"Um, yeah, I did,"

"It was good," OHMYGOD! Adrian Lake said a dance I choreographed MYSELF was GOOD!

"and we would like to offer you a place at our school, starting next half term, seeing as you auditioned with the later group, so we are will hope to see you in November. I have sent a list of the fee's and details to your mother."

I was momentarily stunned into silence. I realised I had to say something, so I floundered around for a minute or two, but settled for a simple thank you, good wishes, and that I was looking forward to seeing him in November. Mum rushed out from the bathroom, she had obviously been eavesdropping, but I was too happy to care.

We spent the next few weeks shopping for new leotards, dance bags, new shoes. We even went on just a normal shopping spree. It felt good to be buying new stuff. It always does though.

My friends from school where all really great about me leaving. I made them promise to come up to London sometimes, and visit me. I lived in a small market town, in the middle of Somerset. I used to live in the Capital, but I went there when I was 9. It felt so good to be moving back to where I grew up again. The dorms where all full, so I had to stay at a friend's house, and get the bus to school every morning. I didn't mind so much.

And then it was my first day. The school building rose high out of the ground, I gazed up at the bleak grey building. In all honestly, it looked more like a prison than a school. It seemed so out of place... The carpark was full of noisy teenagers, laughing, chatting, and being general idiots. Joy. I hurried across the short distance to the school entrance.

"Hello, I'm a new student here. I've got to pick up my timetable?" I looked through the glass at the old receptionist.

"Okay, honey, name please?" She smiled at me, showing a line of brilliant white straight teeth.

"Jayce Lloyd, miss."

"Your Jayce? Beg your pardon! I was expecting a boy!" She chuckled lightly

"I get that a lot. Don't worry!" I grinned at her.

I made my way to the bathroom, and frowned at my reflection. I had long chestnut hair, that curled gently around the tips. My eyes where such a dark brown they were almost black. My skin was still slightly sun-kissed, and my face still had a smattering of freckles. I smiled, showing my small teeth. They had cost me 2 years worth of braces, but at least they were straight now.

'I'm not ugly. I need never be something for men to lose their heads over, but I need never be ugly again.' A quote skipped through my mind. A bell trilled, startling me. I looked around, as if I was expecting someone to be standing there ringing an actual bed. I am such an idiot...

I made my way to my first class. You know, it's weird, even though you go to a dance school, they still make you do maths. When I reached my classroom, I bounced in.

"Ah, Miss Lloyd I presume?" A short man with a receding hairline and thick glasses, blinked up at me, reminding me of a mole.

*No sh*t Sherlock...* Trevor piped up. God, he was SUCH a killjoy

"Yup," I popped the 'p' "That'd be me"

"Well, your seat is at the back there. Next to Tristan," He gestured vaguely to the back of the class. Then, in a hushed tone, that only I could hear, he whispered "I would mind out for him if I were you, he's a terrible flirt."

I laughed lightly, "I'm sure I can handle it." I looked up to where I was supposed to sit. My eyes locked with that of a boy with messy blonde hair, and moss coloured eyes with flecks of chocolate.