lyrical ➸ hemmings

chapter one>> "what the hell is a lyrical?"

I anxiously wait to see the presence of my name on that piece of crisp white paper hanging on the large bulletin board. My foot's tapping uncontrollably like it has a mind of it's own, but I try not to pay much attention toward the nuisance as the line moves up a mere centimeter. Finally the line gets at an uninterrupted pace, an annoyingly slow pace, but still a steady pace. I'll take what I can get.

I try to hold in a victory screech when the freshly typed paper is directly in front of me. A grin is painted across my face as I scroll down the list with the tip of my index finger.

Luke Hemmings

Luke Hemmings

Luk-

There must be a mistake. A reason to why no "Luke Hemmings" was found on the cast. Nervously, I dragged my finger back up and down the cast listings.

"Excuse me, Sir? You're holding up the line." A feminine voice calls out to me from behind. I back away from the line with my jaw dropped as low as physically possible. How the hell could I not make the cut? Do you know how long I spent memorizing and rehearsing that script? Probably somewhere between thirteen and fourteen hours a day, every day. On instinct I start jogging to Ms.Corte's office, pushing people out of the way in a hurry.

*

I rambunctiously knock on the door of my instruter's office in the east corridor.

"Ah, Luke-" She begins before I barge into her office. I try sitting on one of the plastic chairs but can't stay still so I spring up in a very inhuman manner. Anger is as clear as day on my facial expression and Ms. Corte gives me a knowing look.

"So I am assuming this is about the casting for Romeo and Juliet, am I correct?" She asks whilst taking a seat behind her desk.

"Yes! Why-"

"Were you not on the list?" She finishes for me, "To answer your question, you weren't on it because I think you would be much stronger in the dance department rather than drama," I blink multiple times to check that I wasn't dreaming this.

"Dance? But- but acting has been my passion as long as I can remember." I state while still staring at her like two heads just grew out of her neck.

"I know but you're as talented as a professional when it comes to dance numbers." She says with a bright smile, gently placing a hand atop my shoulder.

"Well then why should I have to be taught dance moves by some ignorant old woman in a tight leotard?" I ask with my tone a bit harsher than I mean to imply.

"You shouldn't,"

"I shouldn't?"

"I would like you to teach my senior's lyrical class," Ms.Corte is also the head of the dance department.

"Okay. First; Seniors? Old ladies with wedgies, no thank you. And second; what the hell is a lyrical?" I ask, to which she cringes. She absolutely cannot stand profanities of any kind.

"Seniors are not always elderly and also to answer your question, lyrical is a type of dance taught at my studio." Ms.Corte states very calmly, a warm smile still showing. What in the world does she mean by non-elderly seniors? I'm pulled out of my thoughts when she shoves me out of her office.

"Go put something more appropriate on. The first class is in twenty." She calls out before slamming the wooden door shut with a 'thud'.

*

I walk down the crowded hallway in my new outfit, consisting of a muscle tee and baggy gym shorts that fall to my calf, scanning my surroundings for this so called "lyrical" classroom. I take a glance at my watch to see that there is only five minutes until the lesson begins, and then I spot the class. I grab the cool handle and yank the door open only to find a handful of fit girls around my age. I stick my head out to read the room number again. Yeah it was definitely Senior's Lyrical 101. I pop back inside and everyone's eyes are still glued on me, some drooling. So it was high school seniors, then?

"Uh, hey everyone I am going to be your new teacher, coach, mentor whatever you want to call it." I announce and get a few hoots and hollers, along with a couple of dirty minded remarks I'd rather not repeat, in response. Everyone looks pumped up and full of enthusiasm except for one particular brunette who, I can't help but to say, is by far the most attractive.

"Everyone step into two even rows and complete a couple of different leg warm ups."

They all do as told and begin stretching out their legs in various exercises. No matter how hard I try to keep my eyes off that one girl I just can't. She seems...different.

"Take a picture it will last longer," The girl scowls, lifting me out of my trance.

"W-what?" I stutter and she looks me in the eye for the first time today. Her eyes are a hypnotic baby blue.

"Stop gawking at me like I'm a piece of meat." She spits out and everyone gasps in shock. I hear one blonde female whisper, 'as if he would ever want to be with that low life.' Ouch.

"I was not. Now everyone please gather in a circle." I order.

Once all the dancers are in a shape that somewhat resembles a circle I have them introduce themselves. The ages so far range from seventeen to nineteen. The stuck up blonde being the nineteen year old. Then it's time for the blue eyed fascination to be introduced. I try not to look keen for her future answer when she clears her throat.

"Hello. My name is Cassandra but you should call me Cassie unless you want 'Cassandra' to be the last word out of your mouth. I am seventeen and just graduated Rosewell High last week because I got early acceptance to a college. That's all you need to know." She, the now named teen, mutters in under a millisecond. It's actually surprising for me to hear this reply because I am also seventeen except I will be eighteen in a month. So this means that the bleach blonde Barbie aka stuck up blonde is older than me? Awkward.

"Okay guys, let's do some jumping jacks." I say in a way too cheery voice. I actually have no idea what you are supposed to do in these classes. I guess I'll just yell random moves out aimlessly until the next hour.