When the Curtains Open

Be My Partner?

 (Author's Note at the end.... Even if you lose interest in this story, you should probably read it, especially if you're mad at me for not uploading some stuff)

Abigail walked down the sidewalk, head down, bent against the biting cold. Her cheeks were stained pink and a strand of curly, dark hair flew into her face, sticking itself to her lipgloss. Annoyed, she pulled it away, reaching for her phone at the same time. "Shoot," she mumbled to herself. It was 6:17 and choir rehearsal would start in less than fifteen minutes.

She picked up her pace, striding confidently uphill and sticking her phone into her bag. Suddenly, a figure raced around the corner and slammed into her, causing her to stumble backwards a few steps.

The figure held out a hand to steady her, while cursing quietly under his breath. He was going to be late for rehearsal if his father didn't come soon with his costume. The choir director had already made it clear: one more tardy, and he'd be demoted into a lower class. He shuddered at the thought of singing with those inexperienced freshman. What would the be worse, though, wouldn't be the nauseatingly off-key singing; it would be those annoying freshman girls that threw themselves shamelessly at him.

"Sorry," he muttered to the girl he bumped into, realizing with a blush that he had held her hand for a bit too long. After looking into her hazel eyes, he cleared his throat. "Yeah... Sorry... I'm Collin," he said rather awkwardly. "I kinda gotta go. Bye. And, erm, sorry." He ran down the street frantically, looking for his dad's car, leaving the girl standing there, staring at his retreating figure.

Abigail sighed as he disappeared into a car. She turned around and made a right, walking heavily towards the choir room. Inside would be a safe haven, she thought. As she stepped into the room with renewed energy, she smiled at the familiar smell of cinnamon rolls. Festive lights adorned the walls, and the mirror was painted with various holliday greetings. This was her home away from home. She walked to the piano, setting her bag down, before being attacked with a bear hug. Without turning around, she knew who it was. "Hey, Diane," she said, pulling out her dress- a beautiful, knee-length, sparkly number. Straightening up, Abigail turned towards her friend, who was already wearing the same dress Abigail had in her hands. The baby blue fabric brought out Diane's eyes, and the dress shimmered with every movement. "Ugh, you pull off that dress so well," Abigail said. "I wish I could look at good in it!"

"Oh, shut up," Diane exclaimed, her strawberry-blonde curls bouncing forward as she rolled her eyes. "You'll look gorgeous, as usual."

Five minutes later, both girls stood in front of the bathroom mirror. Diane giggled and turned around, making sure everything was in place. "We look hot!" she said, smiling into the mirror amd realizing with a frown that she had forgotten her makeup. "Hey Abs? Can I borrow your makeup?"

Abigail barely registered her friend asking her a question, and she nodded quickly, sinking back deep into thought.

Diane put on her makeup in silence, sweeping dark mascara onto her long lashes and dabbing some bright red lipstick onto her lips. After musing for awhile about whether or not to put on sparkly eyeliner, she turned to Abigail to ask for advice. "Should I...?" she stopped mid-sentence when she saw Abigail standing there, staring off into space. Diane shrugged. Might as well go with the sparkles. After all, show choir was all about the glamour. When she finished, she looked at her silent friend in worry, wondering if she should ask what's wrong. Normally, Abigail told her everything, so what was bothering her must be something big. "Hey, are you alright?" Diane asked quietly.

Abgail suddenly jerked out of her reverie. "What makes you think I'm not alright?" she asked quizzically.

"I don't know," Diane began sarcastically. "Maybe the silence for the past few minutes?"