The Ballerina & The Devil

Thirty Seven. Works of Art

I buried my head in my hands and groaned softly.

"I hate school."

I was currently seated in the local town library, drowning in stacks of books I had yet to complete, essays I didn't start, and homework sheets I had forgotten about. Somehow, I'd managed to fall behind in my work load.

Normally, that wouldn't be something that bothered me. I, for one, wasn't the biggest fan of school nor did I care how well I did in it. Sure, I would do my work and occasionally study for my tests which led to a fairly decent GPA, but my main focus wasn't on school. I knew what I wanted to do with my life, and it didn't involve the crap they had been feeding me for the past twelve years.

However, if I didn't pull through with my grades my parents wouldn't hesitate to strip me of all my privileges. That included dance.

I lifted my head and flipped a page from my psychology text book. I frowned in distaste wondering why on Earth I chose the elective as well as all the other ones that required actual work.

"Cupcake."

I looked up to see Aidan pulling out a seat across from me.

"We have to stop meeting like this," I said teasingly before taking on a curious expression. "What are you doing in a library?"

"Demi, what exactly are you trying to imply here?" His eyebrows shot up. "That I don't go to libraries?"

"You don't seem like the library type," I admitted.

"Neither do you."

"I'm not," I pouted. "But if I don't catch up with my work I'll fail, which means my parents will bury me alive and dance on my grave."

Aidan laughed as if what I said was the most hilarious thing he had ever heard. Little did he know I wasn't joking.

"You're a riot," he snickered, shaking his head.

"I'm also serious," I twirled my pencil in my hand and sighed loudly. "I should be dancing right now, but instead I'm stuck in this hellhole trying, and failing might I add, to catch up with the mountains of work I've put off for way too long," I suddenly glared at him. "This is your fault."

"How is this my fault?" He asked, looking appalled.

"Ever since you waltzed your way into the picture I've been ditching my classes way more than I should be, which has caused me to fall behind. Your fault."

"Excuse me, but you cannot blame the innocent for actions of the guilty," he gave me a stern look.

My eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"I didn't ask you to ditch with me."

"Yes, you did."

"I didn't make you ditch with me."

"Mhmm," I rolled my eyes. "Whatever you say. So, tell me. What're you doing here? Come to study?"

"Studying causes me break out in hives," he said solemnly. "No, I came here to get a book for Briella."

"That's nice of you," I smiled. "What book?"