Burning up ☞︎ A Jesse st. James Fan Fic

Swan Song

"I miss your curls." I muttered as I felt his short, straight hair. He laughed into my neck and hugged tighter. We stayed like that until my flight was called. Just as I was about to propose we let go, Jesse pulls away and kisses me. I pull away with a small smile.

"I'll miss you." I say softly. Jesse stares into the brown eyes I've always hated. He always used to say how one minute they looked like the finest milk chocolate and the next, the darkest honey.

"I'll miss you more." He said, softly caressing my cheek. I lean up and kiss him one more time. I start running over to get on my plane. I smirk back at him.

"Not a chance!" And I rush onto my plane.

After the plane ride I now stood in front of my apartment door. I rocked back and forth on my heels. Taking a deep breath and swallowing my nerves I opened the door to see Kurt and Rachel waiting in the living room with three cups of coffee and bagels and a sign that says 'welcome back home'. I squeal and we all run to each other in a big mush of hug.

The next day at dance class, Rachel and I were talking, waiting for class to start when La Tibideaux hands us each a letter. People start applauding and Carmen nods at us, walking out of the room. Rachel looks overjoyed and I'm thoroughly confused.

"What is this?" I whisper over to her. After school, Rachel and Kurt explain to me the severity of getting one of those letters. It's for Carmen's winter show case and that I better have a song prepared when she calls on me to sing. I guess a freshman hasn't been invited in I think seven years? I don't know, I wasn't exactly paying attention. But I guess it's a big deal for us, especially since only ten people are invited.

The next day at dance class when Miss. July suddenly yells.

"Stop. Everybody, stop. Because that's what happens when you're thirsty on broadway. You see, they stop the show so that mommy can hand you a sippy cup. Is this how you respond to getting a golden ticket?" Miss. July informs.

"I'm not being a diva. I'm just... dehydrated, and I've been working my butt off in this class, and I have gotten better." Rachel argues. i guess she asked for water?

"Hmm. Three months in, you still have no stamina, no precision, and you think you can outperform Alexandra Blasucci at the showcase? That girl was born in toe shoes. You won't even be able to keep up." Miss. July corrects her.

"I've kept up with you." Rachel sighs, exasperated.

"Oh. All right." Miss. July says, walking away.

"I-i just meant, with everything that you've thrown at me..." Rachel corrects herself.

"I don't throw things... I teach. Nothing I do here is random or unintentional. It's not my fault that you don't understand my methods." Miss. July explains to her. I do understand her methods and i try to explain it to Rachel but It falls on deaf ears. That's why I don't complain and Rachel does...

"And it's not my fault that you don't see how good I've become." Rachel fires back.

"Okay. Would you like to show me how good you've become? Show me that I'm not wasting my time? Fine. Chicago. Opening number. You familiar with it? Anybody else here can join in if they like, but this is between me and the platypus." Miss. July instructs. Rachel laughs at the nickname. I smirk going over to Miss. July's side and I follow the choreography as best as I can.

We finish the song circling around Miss. July and Rachel.

"Now... do you see what I'm saying, schwimmer? You're not good enough yet." Miss. July says, walking off.

"Maybe you're right. Yeah, I'm not-I'm not as good of a dancer as you are." Rachel admits. Oh god, that holier than thou tone. I roll my eyes, waiting for the punch line.