Twinkle Toes

Chapter 2

Stiles had sulked through the rest of his classes that day, hating everything.

            After he had been so kindly dismissed by Derek he had thrown a quick text at Scott, telling him briefly that everything was alright, he just got lectured on his weak ankles again, throwing a little ‘:P’ at the end to make it seem like he really was okay with it all. But in reality he was still beating himself over the whole thing.

            After having been dismissed, Derek hadn’t even given him so much of a second glance. That just added salt to his wounds.

            He’d idolized the guy for years. He’d watched every show online and whenever he’d come to town with the company he was touring with he’d save up all his money (or grovel at his dad’s feet) so that he could go live and in person. He’d never raised up enough money to see him in one of the better seats but he had seem him nonetheless, even if he was a little big bigger than a large ant.

            And all that had been crushed in five minutes.

            Sorta. He still had an undeniable man crush on the guy. But his ego was a little bruised. His confidence was bruised after that tongue lashing. Why was he even teaching at the Academy? The last he’d heard Derek was meant to be going on tour…

            He didn’t have weak ankles…

            Well, he did but only Scott was allowed to make fun of them. His old teachers had all said that he had gotten better over the years; that he had strengthened them. They had all told him that his pointe was on point. He had gotten accepted into the freaking School of American Ballet, that must have meant that he was good at something because if he wasn’t able to do what he did and fabulously then the Academy wouldn’t have given him a second look. The fact that he could even manage pointe and manage it properly as a man was saying something.

            “I don’t have weak ankles,” he grumbled, glaring down at the notes he had been jotting down throughout the lecture. First day of classes and he was already bored, scratching at the back of his neck with his pen.

            He was just ticking down the minutes till he could get out of here. ADHD coupled with the never ending desire to dance always made him on edge and needing to move around. His attention today, especially after the brutal dance practice, wasn’t doing much good for him either.

            Sighing, Stiles kicked back in his seat, crossing his arms and staring out the window.

            When time finally came for his class to be over he had just the time to grab a quick bite to eat before his evening started. It was three o’clock and that meant he could get a good… Five hours of dance in if he didn’t collapse first. His toes were still a bit sore from that morning but as all his teachers said over and over again throughout the years they had to push through the pain.

            Scott wasn’t in the dorm when he went to grab his things. Probably for the better, he didn’t want to begin his interrogation until later on that night.

            S.A.B had many dance studios and one of them was always open even if you didn’t reserve them. From his general knowledge during orientation from one of the seniors, people were allowed to walk in and out of them at will and negotiated amongst themselves if they really needed to use it.

            So it wasn’t a surprise to find one that was empty. He clicked open the door, sliding in and shutting it behind him. His duffel fell to his feet by the door, holding the change of clothes he had in there just in case, water, protein bars and of course, his ballet shoes.