chapter five
but then i spent so many nights thinking, how you did me wrong
and i grew strong,and i learned how to get along.
-i will survive
♫
it’s a little bit funny/ this feeling inside
if the girls at dance even glanced at her ipod they would most likely fall into a fit of cardiac arrest (or confusion). she knew that, unless she suddenly stopped wanting to be a dancer, she could never show her ipod to them. apart from helena, helena was an exception. helena had been her sister-from-another-mister since susan had dripped caramel sauce onto hel’s dress when they were eight.
i’m not one of those who can easily hide
now they were the best of friends. helena was the only girl who could relate to susan when they were in school. helena didn’t have new clothes every week and didn’t go to private dance coaching nor was she able to go to the movies every saturday. and, even though helena was also a dancer, she didn’t care that the other girls looked down on her and her, albeit scarily spontaneous, view on everything, including life. she was impulsive, unconstrained, and above all, extemporaneous. she was helena, with her care-free attitude, fierce glare and black combat boots.
and susan loved her to absolute bits. even though their music tastes were polar opposites. susan adored happy songs from artists like nevershosutnever! and elton john and disney and abba and movie soundtracks. while helena didn’t really think much of music. most of the time, when she was wearing earphones, it was to stop people from trying to strike a conversation (and gave her an excuse to ignore them), even though nothing would be playing and, really, she could hear them perfectly fine.
♫
if i was a sculptor/ but then again no
the bus really didn’t have many people. susan thought. barely any at all. the old lady at the front had gotten off first with a cheery smile at the driver in goodbye. she had also hollered rather rambunctiously at her… well, at the boy seated next to her.
“buh-bye clyde, see you tomorrow!”
clyde had blushed in absolute embarrassment at the old woman’s antics. “bye, ms holdeen,” he’d replied with a slight wave. hm, clyde, susan wondered, what an odd name.
when the bus pulled over at the bus stop outside bryn east boys the majority (meaning three) of the bus’ population had exited the bus, including clyde. because susan was seated in the aisle seat of the bus she had to move over so her legs and bag were facing the aisle, letting clyde squeeze through and leave the bus. the whole manoeuvring was an awkward ordeal, his bulky backpack had somewhat pressed against her shoulder quite roughly and a keyring of a clock had almost smacked her cheek. he finally stepped into the aisle, with him muttering a quiet thanks to her. but, she thought with wonder, one the other hand, when he passed her all she could smell was breakfast and mornings and, just, boy.
she kind of liked it.
“s’okay.”
then he left, stepped out of the bus and onto the patched, damp pavement with a hand in the air as a thanks towards the bus driver. he had left the bus with his mind still there, thinking and pondering over the girl who had sat next to him, smelling of coffee and a bit of wet dog. he kind of thought it was nice, sitting next to her, he meant, a music he could listen to when he forgot to bring his own.
♫
go on now, go, walk out the door, just turn around now
four songs later the bus had travelled a few streets, had caught stuck in a minor traffic jam and waited for pedestrians when susan finally got off the bus.
“thank you.” the driver raised his hand up in ‘cheers’ in response.
another girl, a girl susan had never seen before- ginger hair streaked with green and a nose piercing, had gotten off the bus with her. now that she was at school she honestly could not wait to see helena. she had quite a lot to tell her. the bus had stopped straight outside the school and as she viewed the bus stop’s set of bench and tree she could see herself enjoying her wait for the bus in the afternoon.
her earphones were on and playing a song she didn’t know too well, a song she’d probably downloaded on a whim.
'cause you're not welcome anymore
the song was playing ever so quietly and her backpack was strung onto her back, both arms through the loops as she gripped onto the bottom of the straps. the school was quiet. hmm, early for once, she thought. she pondered. so, library, music room or gym?
she walked past three girls with matching pigtail-like-braids, standing idly near the school’s front doors.
“how was your weekend, susie?”
“hey susan. have you heard? apparently someone’s been going into the music room at lunch! ms. teftun seems kinda angry.”
“sue! jamie said there was gonna be a meeting at the gym before home room, all dancers.”
susan faintly recalled a text stating just that. oh well.
library it was.
she smiled and nodded rather stiffly at all the girls, she had no name to place with their faces yet they seemed to somehow know her.
♫
weren't you the one, who tried to hurt me with goodbye?
thirty minutes later and she was almost done with the book, feeling guilty that she really wanted it to end. in the library there was a girl sitting near her was clicking her pen non-stop. and then there was the girl who really, really wanted to discuss with her the importance of uniforms.
plus, she had no idea why anyone would talk to her, didn’t earphones signal unwanted conversation. she wasn’t being mean… just, she thought, hinting. all in all, today wasn’t starting with the best of mornings. she looked down at her shuffle, the red light- signaling low battery- was flashing. crap, have to save battery for the bus ride home. reluctantly susan switched off the ipod shuffle and took her headphones off, resting them around her neck.
she really didn’t want to leave the safety of the library with its messy book shelves and dim lighting because what she really really didn’t want was to meet groups of girls wanting to talk and talk and talk to her. apparently being a dancer meant so much more than dancing. . anyway, girls in packs were as intimidating as the dancers- ‘machines’- themselves.
in susan’s school, bryn east girl’s high school, dancers were at the top. the ‘means’, the ‘leans’ and the ‘machines’. means, they were the shorties- they were the best at flips and were able to be lifted easily, they were as fast as the salsa and as fluent as figure skaters. but they were petite and snappy, more the bitchy kind. helena was a mean and she didn’t really mind it at all. leans were the tall ones, dancers who moved- ballet, contemporary, tap, they were generally tall and, well, not skinny as poles, more healthy and, for no better word, lean. stereotypically they were super nice and super smiley. but, oh contraire, the machines they were mean, green fighting machines. the likes of jamie hendersyn- hip hop, freestyle, break dance was what they did best.
bye bye library, hello school.
“nice sweater, susan.” her sweater was a delicate shade between poo-green and ugly. it was also just like every other dancer’s green sweater in this green and brown coloured school. she smiled again, her cheeks were starting to ache and her eyes were beginning to tear in the sunlight. how could the sun rise so brightly after so many days of rain?
“thanks, you too.”
then, she heard, the sounds of an angel. “susan, brian and i broke up. yesterday. phone bills are expensive, woulda called but, eh, he’s not really worth the thirty cents, ya know?”
her grin suddenly took on a more genuine disguise. “no way, i thought brian might’ve been the one.”
pft, no way, she thought to herself, brian wore knee high socks and never said ‘thanks’, then again he had passed.
helen was open to whom she dated but only after the test. ever since __helen and susan had made a pact, every relationship they were in the other girl would flirt with the guy, if he flirted back he failed, if he refused the friend politely they passed. although brian mightn’t of had manners like the queen and was going to win any beauty pageant any time soon, he was a nice guy and helen liked nice people.
“yes way.”
“so, how’s your relationship, now?”
“still friends.”
both susan and helen knew that susan would have heard this information a lot sooner if they had an abundant amount of credit on their phones. helen rarely used her phone because there was never time for miscellaneous apps like temple run and twitter, plus, she was easily distracted. on the other hand, susan only used her phone for receiving texts and calls, and used minimal credit for emergencies. now that she thought about it, the only time she had ever used credit was when she had rolled her ankle in dance and had to be sent home. it wasn’t as if her parents didn’t want her to have connections with the outside world. it was just… expensive.
“anyways, what happened in the auditions?”
helen couldn’t come and wait in the waiting room with her family. there was dance practice on and, really, she has told all the dancers that susan’s fourth or so cousin had suffered a painful attack and was close to her death bed. in other words, she couldn’t make it.
“well…” susan’s smile was preventing her to say any much else.
helen, noticing this, slaps susan on the arm (not so lightly).
“see, told ya so, there was no need to worry.”
“well, i girl has to stress at least an hour a day, it’s good for you.”
“good for ya wrinkles, is what it is.”
helen followed her statement by mushing susan’s eyebrows together with her fingers, trying to create lines on her forehead. susan’s face, contorted made her voice sound muffled. “shtop eet.”
“see, wrinkles.” helen placed her arms back by her side. by then, most of the girls whom were previously wandering about were already in roll call.
the two girls laughed as they walked, arm in arm, to their home room, hair slightly askew, legs everywhere and bags perched on the edges of their shoulders.