Christina- Renee Smith
Note: The parts in italics are a flashback from the day before. The parts that are regular are the present time.
Oh my gosh! How many more stairs do I have to walk up? I was not expecting to get in a quick workout just now. It’s my first time here, the last time I met with Tim and Esme, they had a coffee and I had a frappuccino at the local cafe, where we met. They told me where I was supposed to come yesterday, but I couldn’t find it. I walked around for blocks and blocks looking for the studio. All I found was, restaurant, after restaurant, after restaurant. Eventually I gave up and decided to make my way home.
When I got home, after forty dollars for cab fare, and thirty minutes of listening to bad music, I walked into my house. I was surprised to see both my mother and my father standing in the foyer, waiting. Waiting for me. Oh, crap. They know. They totally know, that I’m never going back to that stupid tutoring session anymore. They know that I met with Tim and Esme. They know that I’m joining the Riviera Dance Company. They know, and they are going to give me hell for it.
“Hello, my Little Darling. How was your tutoring session today?” My father said when I stopped to hang up my coat and slip my shoes off of my feet. He waited for me to come out, to give my answer. When I looked at both of them just standing looking at me, waiting, I realised how much I really wanted to tell them that my dream was not theirs. I did not want to go to Harvard Law or Harvard Med. I want to go to Julliard for dance. But as usual, I chickened out. I went over to them and gave my father a hug. My mother hasn’t giving me a hug since I was three, so I gave her a simple head nod. She didn’t appreciate that, either. Instead of acknowledging my hello, she repeated the question my father just asked.
“Christina- Renee, how was your tutoring session today?” she asked looking down at my school uniform. Every little piece in perfect harmony. My tie knotted with precision, directly placed under the meeting of the collar on my shirt. My shirt tucked in perfectly, not a bump or wrinkle in sight. My suede maroon pumps, looking fresh from the store. My mother insisted that I always wore heels, even though I was taller than her without them.
Something fell off of my backpack, so I stopped to see what it was. It was the charm my mother got me at the beginning of the school year. Since I was a freshman at Crown Hill Academy, she said the Harvard charm would help bring me luck. It didn’t. It just reminded me of the life I did not want to live.
“It was fine mother. I knew everything we were going over so we didn’t really do much. We studied for an hour and then I opened my laptop, and started to write my English paper on the writer, Hamlet.” I lied, using a lie that I could easily back up. I made a mental note to text Sean, my tutor, to ask him to cover for me if my parents happened to call him. We were assigned the English paper last week, and I finished it in two days, so I could always show her that if she wanted to see it.
“Well, that’s absolutely fantastic. Your mother and I have something we want to tell you, sweetie.” My father said in his serious doctor voice. When he used that tone in the house, something had to be wrong. There was no denying something bad has happened.
I had four more steps before I reached the door. I quickly walked up those, and reached for the door. But just as quickly, my hand flew back to my side. The nerves began to flutter in my stomach, and I began to freak out. What if they don’t recognize me? What if the other dancers hate me? As I continued to ask questions, that only made me more nervous, I heard the music cues for the dancers. They must be about to rehearse. I used that as my excuse to stay right were I was.
“What is it?” I asked tentatively, not knowing what to expect. I began to absentmindedly tug on the bottom of my skirt, a serious nervous habit of mine I need to kick. The worst thing he could say is that they know about my meeting I just came from, but what he said, was something I was definitely not expecting.
“You know your tutor, Sean? Well, he called me yesterday wondering if I was okay with him asking you out on a date. As you also know, he is a Junior and you are a Sophomore, so I wasn’t positive how I felt about that. I told him that I would think about it, and I finally know my answer. I’m going to call him as soon as you tell me what you think about this situation.” He said with a huge smile playing on his lips. He knew that if he used his serious voice, I would freak out over this. But as I let his words slowly sink in, I began to hyperventilate.
Sean, my tutor, was one of the hottest and most coveted guys at my school. Freshman girls crushed on him. Sophomore girls wanted to date him. Junior girls wanted to marry him. Senior girls already had him. I just simply wanted him to like me, and it looks like the universe is on my side for the first time in my life. Sean wanted to date me. An awkward, self- conscious, fifteen year old Sophomore girl. I’m not even pretty. What’s wrong with him.
Instead of voicing those comments, I looked at my father, and then my mother and tried to get my breathing back under control. Once I could finally talk, I told my father as calmly as I could that, I had been waiting for the day when Sean Tyler - with is beautiful green eyes, his light brown hair reaching just above his eyes, amazing biceps, and I’m sure a wondrous eight pack hidden under those tight shirts of his - asked me out on a date.
I heard the music begin to slow in tempo, which meant they were almost finished. I tried my best to relax my nerves, and straightened out my uniform. I rummaged through my dance bag to make sure everything was there. Then I straightened my outfit, again. Pulled out my mirror and fixed my hair, pushing the headband up farther back on my head and took out the ponytail holder, that was tied at the end of a braid, letting my hair flow down my back. Just then the music stopped, and I heard someone talking. I slowly began to reach my hand out open the door, when again I chickened out. I decided that I would wait five more minutes and then I would walk in as confident as the president must.
I heard the incessant sound of my watch ticking away the seconds, and the butterflies slowly began to subside. Two minutes had gone by before I reached my hand, once more, towards the door handle. I pulled the door towards me, and it began to open with a huge creak, like it wanted to make sure they knew I was coming through the door. I walked through the door with my head towards the ground. So very confident. When I finally looked up, nine pairs of eyes stared back at me. Two friendly and familiar pairs. Seven cold and judging pairs.
I quickly looked away. Towards the wall of dance mirrors. When I saw my face, it was frightening. I looked the the deer caught in the headlights of a sixteen- wheeler. Just standing there, staring at my future death that would occur in a matter of seconds. By the hard looks the dancers were giving me, I assumed they weren’t to happy with my joining of their team.
I heard the thumping of feet coming towards me, and fearing they were coming from one of the girls. So I looked up, ready for a surprise attack to occur. But, it didn’t. I had been totally wrong in assuming it was one of the seven dancers, still all seated in the same spots. It was simply a friendly- faced Tim, walking over to me quickly.
I was so focused on the sound of my own heart trying to calm down, that I barely heard Esme begin to clap her hands, as if to get the attention of the other girls. Then realization dawned on me, as I figured out what was about to happen to me. I was about to be thrown out into the street. I was about to reach my death by seven sixteen- wheeled trucks. I was going to have to introduce myself. Tim, slowly walked me over to Esme, with one hand on my lower back, as if to give me the physical support that I needed. I quickly ran over a quick introduction, kind of like the one I gave on the first day of school.
Hello. My name is Christina- Renee Smith, and this is my second year here at Crown Hill Academy. I’m fifteen years old. My favorite color is green. I want to go to college and study to become a lawyer. I wish that one day all of my dreams will come true, and that I won’t have to hide the real me anymore. I have many likes, but not that many dislikes. I love music, and Dirty Dancing, the movie.
When giving that introduction, I opted for saying ‘lawyer’ instead of ‘dancer’ in case word got back to my parents. Also, instead of saying that I love dancing like I wanted, I chose the safer route, saying Dirty Dancing was something I loved. Which, wasn’t necessarily a lie, but wouldn’t bring up any questions either. I couldn't have people talking about my love for the art of dance, or else, in this city, my mother and father would find out. Which would not be good, at all.
“Girls, I would like to introduce our newest team member. Her name is Christina- Renee. She is joining our team by adding a modern dance section to it. Yes, you will all still do the modern group dance for the competition, but Christina- Renee will be joining you. She will not, however, have a solo in the competition on Saturday since there isn’t enough time and as a rule, she will be given the chance to perform a solo for the next competition, determining on how well she does in the group dance.” Tim told the girls, with a smile so reassuring I actually began to think everything as going to be just fine. Boy had I got it wrong.
All we received were pointed looks from the seven dancers, and a wide- eyed excited one from Esme. I stood there awkwardly, just waiting for someone to speak up and introduce themselves, but nothing happened. They just stared at me, and then as if I was boring them, they all returned to their separate conversations. The conversations had been interrupted when I, the intruder, walked through their studio door.
The girls continued their conversations, as I just stood there awkward staring at them. Willing one of them to speak up, so I don’t have to do them inevitable. Hoping, wishing, believing that their ignoring me, is simply just a game. That they are just messing with me because I am the new girl. Because I am the youngest. Because I am from the rival school.
Wearing this uniform may not have been the best choice after all. These school colors of, blue, white and maroon, are easily recognizable to anyone who has a brain. They belong to the most prestigious high school in the nation. The most expensive. The school anybody who wants to be anybody wants to go. The school where all of the graduates head off to and ivy league college, with a full tuition in hand. The school that could get you anywhere.
I hesitantly looked around at all of the girls. They were not paying any attention to me what-so-ever. Sitting there talking, fixing their dance buns, stretching. Not looking at me. Not thinking about me. Not caring about me.
Suddenly their was the noise of smaller feet running up the stairs behind me. I turned to brace myself and was surprised when I saw twins standing behind me. They were adorable in their little dance outfits. My guess was, either they were on the wrong floor, or that one of these girls, these dancers, my new teammates, are related to to these girls in someway or another.
I searched the faces of all of the girls who was facing me but I didn’t see any resemblance. I looked at four girls faces’, there was three left. But, they were facing the wall, heads bent together, possibly conspiring against me. All of a sudden, three heads whipped my way. It was as if they could feel me looking at them. I felt a tap of my back, and turned towards the twins.
“Who are you?” one of the girls asked me, each of them wearing their own style. And wearing it they were. They didn’t look out of place, simply like they wanted to be their own person. When I continued to stare at them, as if they were reading each others mind, they crossed their arms at the exact same time. I didn’t say anything. I just looked back and forth between them and the girl who could only be their sister.
“Hello! Are you stupid or something? My sister asked you a question. Who are you?” the other twin said.
“I-I-I’m Christina- Renee. Who are you?” I asked, trying to recover from my stuttering fit. I can’t believe I just stuttered in front of eleven people. Eleven. My mother, the lawyer, would not approve of that. Instead of answering me, they walked away from me like I didn’t just say a word to them, they walked back to the mirrors. They sat down in the little group of three girls that all whipped their heads around when the door opened a second time.
Wow. Those girls, must really be popular, because as if on cue, the rest of the girls formed a circle around them as if to listen intently to whatever they were talking about. It, even seemed that Tim and Esme couldn’t help it since they walked over a sat near the girls as well. I felt even more ignored than I do in my own house, and that’s saying something, considering I only really see my mother and father on Sundays, and sometimes not even then.
There was only one way I knew how to get these people’s attention, and even though I so didn’t want to have the spot light on me at this point in time, I knew it would come eventually. So I might as well do it sooner rather than later.
I walked over to the massive stereo. Plugged my iPhone into it. Put, on my favorite song ‘Mean’ by Taylor Swift, and I began to dance instantly o the music. Not necessarily hearing the music in the song, I simply let my emotions take over. I wanted to express how they we’re making me feel at this moment in time. Not giving me the time of day and ignoring me.
I danced so hard that my forehead began to sweat, I was beginning to breath roughly, and I soon forgot about the other people in the room. When I hear the music slow down, I slowed my tempo and began to dance slower. Trying to regain my strength. I wasn’t expecting what I saw when I finally opened my eyes.
Eleven wide doe eyed people stared at me. Mouths literally hanging open. Staring. Saying nothing. And then that’s when it finally happened.
Someone started yelling. Not yelling words of encouragement. Hurtful words. Directed towards me.
Authors Note:
This chapter was written by smilieyniknik. How do you guys feel about the new girl, Christina Renee? Let us know what you think.
P.S. Sorry for the delayed upload! :) We hope you love it!