Football Meets Ballet

1- Tragic

Sorry for the long wait!! Hope you like the chapter :D

***

""Plié, and straighten. Plié, and straighten," my ballet teacher, Madame, rang out. We were warming up for our performance at 7 tonight. We were performing Swan Lake, my personal favorite. I was Odette!

I stretched my foot as much as it could go until it was in an arch. I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty good at ballet. I mean, I was a ballerina. But as my first teacher once told me, 'nobodies ever perfect, so don't fool yourself that you are.'

I pulled off my warm ups when we were done with the exercise. I laced up my pointe shoes, and glanced up and my best friend, Maya.

"Come in now, don't want to be late!" She exclaimed with a heavy Irish accent. I giggled at her.

"Still going through your Irish phrase, eh?" I asked, as we headed to the dressing rooms to get our hair and make up done. She looked at me like I was stupid.

"Ehm... I am Irish?" She said with a lilting giggle.

"Ladies, enough chat," our teacher said scoldingly. "Violet, you best be ready to get out in stage and be ready. You are on in ten!" She pushed me into the dressing room.

*** after the show***

"Amazing! But, I never expected anything less," Madame said happily. "Now go home, You have practice tomorrow."

"Yes ma'am," I replied, waving good-bye to Maya and skipping happily out of the backstage. I was so happy that for once the show went without a hitch.

I opened my blue bug, a present from my parents for making it the the ballet company. I tossed my bag in the back and began taking off my makeup before I took off. Being done with that, I pulled away from the curb. I glanced at my gas meter to see it was almost empty. I went to the nearest gas station and as I was pulling out, a huge truck pulled out in front of me! It hit me straight on. I had no time to react.

Pain. I couldn't think straight.

I heard vague voices shouting out random things I couldn't make out.

"Hang on!" I heard a voice shout. " She's slipping!"

And then came the darkness.

***I was going to stop it here, but decided that was a little cruel...***

"She's coming around."

"Hush!"

"Thank goodness she made it."

I slowly opened and my eyes and blinked. Ouch. The blurry shapes slowly sharpened to reveal my mom and dad, Maya, and a woman in a white lab coat. Probably a doctor.

"What happened?" I asked woozily. My mom looked at me sadly.

"Sweetie, you were hit by a truck," she said. I heard Maya sniffle.

"What's wrong," I asked her, concerned.

"What's wrong? You're the one in the hospital with a-" She was cut off by the doctor.

"Ahh you see, you have a broken ankle," she began, "and since you are ballerina, and constantly use your ankles, under normal circumstances, you would get away with a month of resting." My heart quickened.

"What do you mean 'under normal circumstances'? I quickly but in, hopeing i heard wrong. I heard a quiet sob from the corner of the room.

"You have severly shattered your ankle, and I'm afraid you may never be able to dance again."

And the lights went out. Again.

*** James P.O.V.***

"20 push-ups, 10 suicides, and repeat. Twice," Said my coach. I jumped down and began the push-ups for my training.

Hey, I'm James star quarterback for the NFL. And ladies man. *wink* Anyway, I love football, but recently Coach has started saying that we need to take ballet to help. I mean, he's probably not serious. Can you see a 6'3" quarterback and his hulk-like teammates taking ballet? I mean come on! We'd look ridiculous.

After practice I headed to the showers to get cleaned up. I showered, put on a pair on dark jeans and a blue button down and headed to my Mercedes. Yeah, perks of being a NFL player. I met at the front entrance of the club with my best friend, Zach, who was the middle linebacker for our team. We headed straight to the bar and were immediately surrounded by girls.

"All systems a go," said Zach, sending a wink in my direction. We were going to get wasted.

***

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!" my coach roared, his spittle flying in our faces. I winced. Hangovers are a bitch. "I LET YOU GO TO A CLUB, AND HAVE SOME CONTROL GENTLEMEN!"

He slammed down the tabloid and I got a closer look at it. 'NFL Players Get Wasted'. Crap. No wonder he was so mad. Coach paced the entire length of the room. "That's it. You need discipline. You are going to take a ballet class."

OK, I'm sorry to admit that my first reaction was to burst out laughing, but his hard glare cut me short. Unfortunately, Zach didn't get the message.

"I'm sorry sir, but ballet? The wimpy thing with tutus?" he spluttered, not catching the warning glances I sent him. Oh, he's going to get it.

"Yes, ballet. I will send out an advert for a teacher. Until then, you two are grounded!" Zach and I looked at each other. This is going to be a loooong season.

***

Hey guys!! I'm so sorry for the long wait, but I hope you like it!! I'm also looking for an editor, so if you are interested, please Private Message me on here.

Point out and spelling errors, grammar, etc. in the comments!!

If you have and suggestions to play Zach or James, leave them in the comments :D

Alrightie!!

-DancinLeprchaun xoxo <3