Red Pointe Shoes

Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry for the long wait, but like said, I was away on a school trip. c: Vote and Comment?

Chapter Seven

Nat squeals abruptly as I shut my locker door, and I turn to stare at her oddly. "What?" I question, wondering what could have brought on this sudden excitement. In reply she clamps her hand down on my shoulder and spins me around.

Oh.

Toilet guy is walking towards us, a grin on his face.

"And you're spazzing out because of him?" I query hesitantly, "Do you like him or something?"

"No!" She gasps, smacking on my shoulder. "Are you blind? He's heading for you!" I turn again, and true enough he is. There is a scampering behind me and Nat is gone- that deserter.

"Hey," he smiles brightly, "you feeling better?"

"Yep, mentally sound and all." I reply with an easy smile. He has this likable personality that makes it hard not to smile around him.

"Good, then my wit and sarcasm won't be wasted." He whoops, pumping a fist in the air and making me laugh.

"What wit?" I laugh, shoving him playfully with my shoulder. He gasps loudly and clutches at his heart. "Thou hast wounded my heart!"

"What heart?" I repeat, shaking my head in amusement. He gives me an insulted look. "Anyway, what brings you here stranger?"

"Well," He drags out the word, "someone passed their promotion test! I'm now out of the corps and into the solos!"

"I passed that test ages ago," I deadpan, fighting the urge to squeal my congratulations.

"Well I'm sorry I can't be as good as you, Miss Soon-to-be Principle." He rolls his eyes while nudging us away from the lockers and towards the dance studio.

"The audition results aren't even out yet."

"Well, you're the lead each year. It'a rather obvious Avery."

"Oh! That reminds me! How do you know my name anyway? I certainly never told you." I ask suspiciously, narrowing my eyes at him. To this he responds with yet another eye roll and an exasperated sigh.

"You really are a ditz Ave. Do you think you can go two years being the lead without everyone knowing your name?"

I pause, baffled. He's right. How did I not figure that out earlier? Mr I don't know his name laughs (rather impolitely, in my opinion) at my expression before shoving us into the studio. "Come on blur head, lets see if you can keep up with my awesome skills."

***

"Alright class," Miss Thompson, my dance teacher, claps her hands, "today we'll be doing something rather different." The class buzzes in confusion and excitement. Ballet is ballet, how different can it get? "We'll be incorporating our modern ballet routine with some fighting styles to see if we can get something more unique for the end of year productions."

I freeze, and my face pales. Could this get any worse?

".. And we've gotten a student, one of the best, from the martial arts side to teach you. His name is James Loyer."

I shouldn't have asked. At that, the door opens right on cue, and he steps in with a dazzling smile. Cocky bastard, I bet he planned that.

"Sorry I'm late Miss Thompson, my classes ended late." He apologizes smoothly, running a hand through his hair.

"No problem, James. Why don't we just start on with some simple stuff for them?"

"Sure thing," He nods, taking up a place at the front of the studio, "Now, I think you girls might want to take those pretty satin shoes off. Wouldn't want to break them, would we?" His smile barely masks a sneer.

"I don't think we should." I say stubbornly, crossing my arms, "we'll be dancing whatever you're going to show us anyway,might as well get used to it now." Besides, these shoes could crack your skull and not even dent, I add on silently, sending him a barely masked glare.

"Avery has a point," Nat pipes chimes in, immediately coming to back me up. Soon, the whole class is murmuring their agreement.

"Fine," He snaps, "just don't come crying if you sprain your little ankles."

"I'd like to see him try and dance in pointe shoes." Toilet boy murmurs in my ear. I nod fiercely, imagining Loyer in one of those 'pretty satin shoes' and falling on his face. The image is hilarious.

The next hour is pure torture. Not even do I have to pretend not to know these simple steps, I even have to listen to his condescending voice as well. And where is our darling teacher? In the corner, asleep over a copy of Pride and Prejudice.

"No, no! You're movements are too soft, you have to punch like this!" An annoyed voice snaps from the side. I turn to see Loyer yanking Nat's arm in a harsh movement to imitate a punch. She flinches slightly before sending him an icy cold glare, pulling her hand from his grasp and taking a step back. "Well I'm sorry I haven't been fighting all my life," she retorts. You go girl! He stares at her unflinchingly before moving on to me.

"Show me a punch." He commands.

"What? No please?" I mutter, curling my hand into a fist and deliberately placing my thumb inside. I swing my arm wildly to a dubious imaginary target in front, making it seem uncontrolled.

"Are you an idiot?" He asks, "Everyone knows that you put your thumb outside when you punch. And control it, you look like a rampaging gorilla when you punch like that."

"Better a gorilla than an ass." I retort, smirking when I see his brows furrow before his eyes darken with realization at the dig I've made at him.

"You're being childish." He tells me simply before moving on to toilet guy.

Burn, baby, burn.