Dancing Through Life

I Don't Dance

Rebecca POV

I wake up Monday morning to my dad's voice, "Rebecca it's time for school." 

I groan, toss off the covers, and walk over to the closet. I put on my butterfly Adidas sweatshirt, black skinny jeans, and turquoise Vans. I pull my hair into a high ponytail, grab my dance bag, and then I walk down the stairs.

"Good morning," My dad greets.

"Not sure what's good about it." I reply.

"Eat something, we're leaving in five." He says, ignoring my comment. I eat some toast and meet my dad in the car. We drive to school in silence, but I keep sending my dad death glares.

I walk into the school, alone. When I open the doors, I find myself surrounded by students. The girls wore leotards and tights, or crop tops and booty shorts. I laugh because they look ridiculous. I make my way to the office to pick up my schedule. I gently knock on the large, wooden door.

"Come in," I hear a man say. I open the door, and find a middle-age man sitting behind a desk, "You must be Rebecca, I'm the headmaster of this academy, Mr. Carlton."

"Pleasure to meet you, but I prefer Becca." I say, smiling.

"You have your mother's smile." He chuckles.

"You knew my mother?" I ask, very confused.

"Yes, we were wonderful friends when we attended school together. Well, I assume you're here for your schedule, and here it is." He hands me a sheet of paper, and I look it over, "Your classes are the same as my son, so I've asked him to show you around today." He gestures to a tall boy behind me with brown hair that stands up, and chocolate-brown eyes. He flashes me a smile, but I don't return it.

"Thank you, sir,"

"Now off you go, you wouldn't want to be late."

I leave with the boy, and we walk down the corridor.

"I'm Asher by the way." He says.

"You already know my name." I say, coldly. I see him smirk out of  the corner of my eye. We get to class late, and I immediately feel all eyes on me. I shift uncomfortably as the teacher walks over to us.

"Mr. Carlton, you may warm up," She says. He nods and walks over to the barre, "You must be Ms. Evans, I'm Ms. Binsley." She holds out her hand and I shake it. She eyes my outfit before continuing, "Would you like to go change?"

"Nope," She looks uneasy before replying,

"Alright, then you may begin your warm up." I don't warm up, instead, I walk over to the corner and sit. I curiously watch the other students in the class. I pay attention to their skill level and technique. I feel Ms. Binsley staring at me, but she doesn't say anything. I continue to sit and observe in peace.

"Ms. Evans, a word." The teacher beckons after the class is finished.

"Don't wait up." I tell Asher when I see that he hasn't left yet.

"Alright, our next class is two doors down the hall." He says.

"Thanks," I turn and walk over to the teacher, "Yes?"

"Why didn't you participate in class? Are you injured?" She questions.

"I don't dance." I see anger rage in her face.

"Your mother was one of the best dancers in the nation, possibly the world, and all you have to say is that you don't dance?"

"Yep,"

"Then how did you get into this school?"

"I don't know, my father applied for me."

"Alright, now you may go to class." I walk out. I walk into my next class, two doors down. I walk in, and see a girl flirting with Asher. I let out a small laugh. He's the headmaster's son, I'm sure he's got all the girls going for him. I'm sure he enjoys the attention. I just roll my eyes. Again, I sit in the corner and observe. This teacher pulled me over after class as well, and once again I told her that I don't dance.