Chapter Four: I Rocked A Pink Leotard & Tutu
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Well this is exciting.
"How're you doing, Mr. Johnson?" I grin an innocent smile, and spin around in the swivel chair. He strokes his clean-shaven face, his posture seemingly on edge, uncomfortable. His hazel eyes dart around the room.
"Where is Dane McFinley?" He asks, fiddling with his hands, nervous. How in the world does he conduct a high school when he seems scared of me? Well, I guess I could kill him here and now, but I wouldn't. Mainly because I'm not a psycho, but also because that would be gross and hard to clean up.
"I'm not too--" Dane stumbles into the room, holding a bag of ice to his black eye, scowling. "There's Dane!"
"No shit Sherlock." He grumbles, limping into the office. He stops right beside me, groping around for a chair. He seems to grab a hold of one of the swivels, but when he pulls it in to seat himself, the rollers spin away and he lands on the ground.
"Oh, clumsy, clumsy Dane." I tsk and shake my head disapprovingly as he props himself upright, and he grabs ahold of my tie, pulling me close as he glares at me intimidatingly.
"What did you say, Falls?" He growls, and tightens his hold on my tie.
"Dane. We should create a bit of space between us, don't want anyone else thinking you bat for the other team! Unless you do, which is perfectly fine, in fact, my uncle--"
"I don't want to hear about your gay-ass uncle." He lets go of me, in which I smoothly slide back into my chair, and he storms back to his.
"McFinley!" Principal Johnson cries, shaking his head. "We don't use those words here at L.V Rogers." Dane's facial expression doesn't change, as he probably continues to imagine beating me up, judging by the way his fists clench.
"Anyways, Sir, I was wondering why I'm here in the first place." I put on a confused face, as if the bruises scattering McFinley's body couldn't possibly be my doing. Mr. Johnson watches me, and I don't think he's caught onto my ruse. "I mean, I was just helping dear Dane over here up when some freshmen shoved him into the lockers!" I widen my eyes, shrugging. "They're quite vicious nowadays, aren't they?" Principal Johnson nods, soaking up all my lies.
"Fuck you." Dane mutters under his breath, and Johnson's head snaps up.
"What was that Dane?" He asks, furrowing his immaculately plucked eyebrows. (what dude has such nice eyebrows?)
"Oh, I was just thanking Xander." He replies bitterly, pursing his lips. "In fact, Xander is such a good helper, he should be a lifter for the ballet class!" He grins, and Principal Johnson's eyes light up. "I mean, he is rather strong. I've heard Madame Wilkins needs a good strong boy."
"Why, that's a perfect idea!" Johsnson chirps, his bright white teeth on display. "Whadd'ya say, Xander?" He asks, still smiling. Oh lord.
"Yeah, Xander. What do you say, buddy?" Dane grins, an evil glint to his eyes. What does Xander say? Xander says 'Fuck you Dane McFinley.'
"Sounds great." I reply between clenched teeth, a sad attempt at a smile.
"Well boys, I have no idea why Mason called me here, because it looks like you both will become the greatest of friends!" Can Principal Johnson seriously not see that Dane is staring pickles at me (much scarier than daggers, trust me,) and I'm trying to radiate my bad vibes to ruin his mood? "Oh, and here's a pass for your next class. Ballet commences right--" The bell buzzes, signalling the start of the next period. "Well, right now!"
"Excellent." Dane gets up from his swivel chair, clenching his bag of ice, (which is actually just cold liquid by now), and exits.
"Have an excellent day, Highness." Principal Johnson smiles, waving.
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"And a one, two, three!" A woman standing in the center of the dance studio pushes the play button, and the girls spin around in their tutu things. The fat puffy things around their hips, y'know, the things that ballerinas wear. Totots or whatnot.
Did I mention the girls? It's all girls. And I mean all.
Suck on that Dick McFinley.
I approach the dance instructor, granted, I'm still watching the girls prance around, giggling as they spot me, and the grey-haired teacher turns to meet me. She smiles a kindly smile, wrinkling the corners of her eyes slightly.
"You must be Xander!" She yells over the music, and then reaches behind her to pause it. The girls stop in confusion, and watch me intently. "Welcome to my ballet class! Girls, why don't you say hello to Xander?"
"Hi Xander!" The gorgeous girls chorus in unison, except for one.
"Hello to Xander." One girl mumbles, and I track the voice to spot the one and only Claresse. She looks up to see me staring at her, and when she realizes I heard what she said, she blushes and I wink.
"Lets get you changed into a leotard." The dance instructor chirps. "Girls? Which one of you can escort Mr. Falls backstage?"
"I can!" One voice is ultimately louder than the other girls, and she steps out from the horde of frilly pink, easily spotted.
Her hair is pulled into a neat, blonde ponytail, but the ends of her hair are pitch-black, as if they've been singed with an iron. Her leotard, instead of the cheerful and somewhat blinding bright pink everyone else has been assigned, is a deep navy.
"Excellent, thank you Kerri. Now lets get started on those pirouettes, try for three in a row!"
"Come on now, Xander." Kerri pulls my arm, leading me towards the door in the back.
"Why are you wearing blue?" I ask, trailing after her like a lost puppy.
"Because I'm special." She smirks, pushing the door open. "Also because I 'forgot' my horrendous pink leotard today." She puts air quotations around forgot, so I'm guessing she really hates the uniforms. Well I can't blame her, it looks like Barbie threw up on their clothes.
"Dianca had me take you backstage to give you this." She holds up a darker pink leotard, with matching pink shorts and a fluffy, sparkly tutu. If the result of Barbie's sickness got all over the girl's clothes, it looks like Ken had a sick day too.
"You're kidding." I take the nylon material from her, not bothering to hide the horrified look on my face. Even a can of Axe wouldn't be able to make me seem manly in this leotard. I bet Miss Dianca the dance instructor had this specifically designed for people who were interested in her dance girls. This is more effective then a condom.
"Not even a little bit. Still up to dance, pretty boy?" She crosses her arms, offering me a silent challenge.
I've always been horrid at backing down. I glance down at the overly pink nylon clothes, and take a deep breath. "Yeah."
"Lets get you changed then." Kerri replies, smiling back up at me. But it's not one of those cute, real smiles. It's a this is going to be hilarious smile.
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I stare at myself in the large floor to ceiling mirror backstage, Kerri standing beside me.
"Is it supposed to be so tight on the crotch?" I ask, and Kerri blushes.
"I dunno, looking at it usually scares off all the douches who want to watch the girls dance. No one's ever actually put it on." She replies. So it is a cockblock!
"At least my abs look pretty good." The nylon material is so suffocatingly tight that it outlines each one of my abdominal muscles. "Don't you think?" I turn to her, and she bites her lip, blushing like crazy. I'm guessing that's a yes.
"Let's just get back to Dianca." She heads out the door, not answering.
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"Xander, what are you wearing?" Dianca gapes at me, her wise grey eyes the size of saucers. I look around to see all the girls giggling, as I single one out. Claresse winks at me, and whispers to her friends.
Is it bad that I've never felt this intimidated before? Battling kidnappers and disabling grenades isn't as nerve-wracking as this. I can feel the heat rise to my cheeks, probably turning as red as a stoplight.
I could really use a burst of self-confidence around now!
Everyone stares and laughs for a minute, before Madame Wilkins strides over to me, a rushed walk, but still managing to be graceful and steady, like a swan. "Girls, take a break!"
She puts her tiny arms around my tall frame and, with surprising force, shoves me into the back room once again. Once the door is closed, she closes her eyes, putting a hand to her wrinkled forehead.
"Mon Dieu!" I watch her pace back and forth, sighing. "Les filles vont jamais---" She pauses, mumbling something I can't hear. "You weren't supposed to put this on."
I'm tempted to crack a smile and say 'No shit Sherlock' but refrain myself and pull an innocent face. "What do you mean? Kerri told me to get dressed in this one, ma'am." I ask, shrugging.
"But you weren't--" She pauses, catching herself. "There are outfits for boys over here, follow." She gestures me further into the backroom, pulling out a pair of what looks like black yoga pants and a simple white t-shirt. "Join us once you're changed."
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"Okay girls, as you have seen," Dianca glances back at me, in which I wave. "Xander will be joining us."
"Officially?" A tall, slender brunette pipes up from the back. Dianca nods, and a round of hushed whispers chorus throughout the room, and she lets them talk for awhile before silencing them with a firm "Shhh!"
The girls immediately quiet down, and I look back at the middle-aged dance instructor in amazement. I can't even get my little sister to stop talking long enough to think, nonetheless a whole group of teenage girls.
"Which means that we will be doing the dance you girls have been asking for since preschool." She declares, and everyone immediately begins chattering again. Dianca doesn't bother to quiet them down, and instead shouts over them. "Yes, that's right. We will be performing Swan Lake!"
Hold on. They've been asking for this since pre-school and they're only doing it now? "Why couldn't you have done it before?" I ask her, and all the girls stare at me, instantly making me clam up. I don't know about you, but thirty pairs of eyes on you can make someone feel like they're about to piss themselves.
"Because everyone knows that Swan Lake has two male leads: the handsome Prince Siegfried and the evil Rothbart." Kerri rolls her eyes. "How are we going to do it, Dianca? Xander is a beginner, and he's only one guy."
Everyone glares at Kerri, and she slinks back into the crowd, her cheeks tinged with red. Shit, these girls must've been waiting a hell of a long time to do a fucking dance.
"It will be quite alright, Xander will have to be trained quite extensively for us to be able to perform at the End of the Year spectacle, yes, but I have high hopes for him." She pats me on the back, a faint smile back on her lips, using the same face as she did when I met her. But that doesn't fool me anymore, we all know she's an evil mastermind, cunning enough to measure up to Voldemort.
Everyone is silent as they size me up. Most of them still look doubtful, hell, I'm doubtful of myself. Have you seen Swan Lake before? It's pretty freaking amazing what flips they have to do--I can't even do a headstand without toppling over and injuring myself.
So typically I'm going to learn how to do a series of crazy pirouettes, flips, and dances. Seems legit.
"You might be uneasy about how much we'll have to rely on Mr. Falls, believe me, I am too." Dianca says, and the girls laugh. Wow, thanks. "But I have faith in him! He was willing to put on a pink leotard with a matching tutu to join us. How much more can you ask for?" She smiles, hugging me close. The girls smile and talk amongst themselves again, until the bell rings. "Dismissed!" She announces, still beaming. "Have a great lunch girls."
I'm about to leave too, but Dianca pulls me back. "Stay with me awhile, will you Xander?" She asks, walking towards a tiny office, if you could call it that--it was a small desk in the corner of the massive studio, cluttered with papers, with two chairs.
"I know I just told all those girls that we are going to do Swan Lake, but I'm wondering your opinion on it. I've shoved everything on your shoulders... Do you want to do this?" She asks, as I sit across from her in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs.
I don't hesitate as I reply. "Of course, they've been waiting for this forever." I can't be so selfish as to let them all down, that'd be plain cruel. Like the time my Mom took all my cameras and locked them in a drawer--forcing me to actually interact with people at a social event. I will never be Mom, I'll be that cool Dad who takes his kid to go see how many times they can poke a tiger before it attacks.
Okay, so maybe that was my dad, and maybe we were a little cruel--but it almost caught me, if my Dad hadn't pulled me up into a nearby tree, I'd be dead, but that's besides the point.
"Are you sure, Xander? This is a huge commitment." Dianca asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, I am." I reply, sure of myself.
She smiles again. "Then you'll have to put in extra practice Sunday, Thursday and Tuesday... Not mentioning the regular practices, and you'll have to practice at home as well." She pauses for a moment, thinking. "I will refer you to a private dance studio, as well as a private instructor, to help you."
Okay, maybe not so sure of myself now.
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After Dianca pulled me aside, I head to the cafeteria, which was a little... different for me. Some reasons why:
A) It was surprisingly dirty. I mean, I get that there's seven hundred students dining in the large room, but... I don't know, it's just gross.
B) Is the food even sanitary? I doubt the ladies serving us had thought of the necessary precautions to use while serving food. Not to mention it sort of looks like a lump of random veggies mashed together. And I swear my lump of veggies just moved.
C) It's extremely intimidating trying to find a place to sit. Note: This is coming from a guy who has never eaten with anyone except my family and visiting dignitaries from foreign countries.
So to sum it all up, I was screwed.
So I stand in the middle of the cafeteria, probably looking like a loser, when someone approaches.
"Hey duuude!" A surfer-like guy approaches, an easy smile on his lips, displaying his bright, white teeth against his tanned skin. "You're the guy who beat up McFinley!" He nods his head to me, patting me on the back. "Sick. Hey, wanna sit with me?" He asks.
Well that solves a lot of problems.
"Yeah, sure." I reply, relieved that I won't have to sit alone.
"Awesome duuude!" He replies, and I realize he might be high. He just seems way too calm and easygoing. As we walk over to his table, filled with guys our age. "Everyone, this is Xander, the new kid who beat the crap out of McFinley!" Surfer guy introduces me, and they look up. Surprisingly, they're not the type of people I expected him to hang out with.
It seems like everyone is accepted, whether they're wearing a letterman's jacket or have that sort of badass touch-my-food-and-die sort of look.
"Hey." They all mutter, and go back to their food, seemingly more interested in the mush than me.
Seems like I'll fit in great here.
"Oh by the way, I'm Jack." Surfer guy introduces himself as he sits down next to me at the lunch table.
"By the way, Jack isn't high." A broody looking blonde haired guy says, as he jabs at his cafeteria food. Jack laughs, taking a bite of his veggie-mush.
"Why does everyone think that? Just because I have a better aura than you, Cameron--"
"My aura is fucking awesome, you watch your mouth Jackass." The broody Cameron guy replies, though I can tell he's joking as they both laugh.
"Xander's aura is very fun, yet tinged with a sort of pranksterish vibe." Jack says, nodding to me. I don't really know how to react, until they both laugh.
"You guys can't scare the poor guy away, he's actually cool." A red-haired guy says, rolling his eyes at his friends.
"King, just 'cause you don't appreciate what we have to say about your aura doesn't mean that--"
"You told me my aura was a weak, fluffy, girly one that was best described as Pinky Pie from that stupid pony show!" He exclaims, talking with his mouth full of the mashed mystery.
Cameron fake gasps. "My sister would seriously strangle you if you said the words 'stupid pony show' in front of her."
"Anyways, back to Xander's aura--"
"I can tell that one for you Jack." A deep voice behind us rumbles. "Xander's a weak baby who can't fight." The infamous Dane McFinley appears again.
Is he asking to be beat up again?
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"What do you mean, Dick?" I growl, turning around. He stands there with his pathetic crew of footballers, except instead of one sidekick, he has four this time.
"The name's Dane." He counters, his chocolate brown eyes stormy. I've seen those eyes before... "Not that you would know, rumor has it that you're a homeless guy from off the streets. Judging by the way you act and talk, your level of intelligence doesn't seem that high."
My level of intelligence? I'm fluent in five languages, I can make a hand grenade using basic household ingredients, and while I'm running from asassins, I can still manage to get a girl's number.
Yeah, I don't think so. Even if the last one isn't really relevant, I bet Dane can't do that.
"Rumor has it that I beat you up, along with that guy." I point to the brown-haired guy with the black eye standing next to him. "Although, unlike your stupid comeback, it's actually true."
"Get the fuck out of here, McFinley." Cameron says, his dark-brown eyes blazing. Even though I've talked to him, and he's actually pretty nice, he's living up to the bad boy persona I judged him as at first, and it's a hell of a lot scarier than Dane is. "You're just trying to pick a fight now."
"I'd have thought you would be hanging out with someone better, Blackmore." Dane laughs, though it's a hollow sound. "Someone who doesn't wear a stupid tie." He points at my tie and him and his cronies laugh.
"Xander's original, and at least he puts his ties in the fucking wash. When have you taken off your football jacket?" Cameron retorts. Man, I've become friends with the King of Comebacks.
"Bad vibes, bad vibes." Jack mutters, and eats another spoonful of the mush.
Dane's face turns red, whether with anger or embarrasment, I don't know. But then he grabs my tie and nearly chokes me. His friends and the rest of the cafeteria watch as McFinley chokes me, and I splutter, gasping for air. I shove him with as much force as I can put in, sending him stumbling back into his cronies.
"Fucking asshole!" McFinley roars, kicking me in the leg, leaving a stinging pain. I get up from my seat along with Cameron, and I'm about to get in my second fight of the day with the asshole before someone stands between us.
"Stop!" Claresse appears, and I stop my fist from hitting her. I wasn't aiming for her in the first place, I didn't even know she was here, but she's blocking me from punching him in the face, which I really feel like doing right now.
"Esse, what the fuck?" Dane growls, still keeping his eyes trained on me.
"Stop it, you're being a dick. Mom will blame both of us if you get in another fight." She says, an edge to her voice. "Especially with the new kid."
"What do you mean by Mom?" I ask, confused. Esse turns to me, and studies my eyes with her brown ones... then it clicks. They're identical to his.
"Claresse is Dane's twin sister." Cameron replies.
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A/N: Who was expecting that? Claresse is Dane's sister?
Anyways, thank you for all the support! Like really. :) And those are Xander's abs to the side.
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-Rachel