"So remind me again," Jean snickered, knocking Eren in the ribs with his bony elbow. "You signed up for dance instead of gym? Like, for real?"
Eren just rolled his eyes and shoved his friend back, harder. "No. For the the thirty-third time, Jean, no, I didn't sign up for dance."
"The gym class was already full by the time Eren turned in his class selections," Armin contributed, smilingly patiently at the horse-faced boy. "So the school put him in dance."
Eren huffed indignantly. "Stupid dance. 'S not even a sport."
"Oh, Eren, don't worry," Jean smirked impishly. "I'm sure it will be just perfect for a little pansy like you!"
Marco and Jean cackled, and Armin did his best to hide a small, creeping smile with the stack of books he was carrying.
"Really, Armin? You, too?" Eren cut in harshly, making Armin blush in embarrassment. Normally Eren would feel bad about snapping at his friends, but he was currently pretty miffed at the blonde. He didn't understand why, but the subject had become a bit…touchy, lately.
"Hey, jerk-face," Mikasa said to Jean, despite the wide grin blossoming on her face. "Lay off him. He's obviously not thrilled about the class, and provoking him won't solve anything."
"Awww, Mika," Jean smirked. "But teasing him is so fun…."
Eren rushed down the hallway, flying and squeezing between students, doing the best he could to maneuver his overly-stuffed backpack through the crowd.
"Watch it!" a bulky upperclassmen yelled as Eren smacked him with his bag.
"Sorry!" the frantic brunette managed, ducking beneath an open top-tier locker.
"Stupid sophomores, thinkin' they own the world," the jock muttered to his friends as he turned away.
By the time Eren reached the doorway leading to the dance room, he was breathing heavily and no longer cared if anyone saw him shoot down the narrow stairs to the wide hallway as the bell pierced the stale air.
He made it to the dance room in several long strides, and flung open the door. He couldn't believe what awaited him inside. A slick, black floor-covering stretched across the dark tile, and mirrors lined the entire right wall.
Floor-to-ceiling windows covered the adjacent wall, looking out onto the lush grass commons where the upperclassmen ate lunch. The ceiling had large metal grates that spread the length of the room, delicately and intricately draped with woven strings of white Christmas lights, bathing the room in a warm, sultry glow. There were figure sketches of dancers, fliers from past performances, photos, pamphlets, and posters on the other two walls.
"Eh-hem." A young woman in gray sweatpants and an unzipped black sweatshirt cleared her throat from the far right corner, shaking Eren from his trance. She was smiling broadly, holding a Styrofoam cup of steaming-hot coffee from the cafeteria, palm resting gently on a short table holding up a thin, silver laptop. Speakers were everywhere, and there was whiteboard-marker writing on the windows and mirrors. Sunlight streamed in through the windows and the Christmas lights were glowing softly, but other than that, there was no other noticeable light source.
"Uh…hi," Eren offered lamely as she gave him a thoughtful once-over. She pulled at her mop of tight black curls, grinning warmly.
"Hiya! You must be…" she checked her attendance sheet. "Eren!"
"Uhm, yeah," he smiled back. "That's me."
"Wonderful!" she beamed, her white teeth shining blindingly against her mocha-colored skin. "You have such a nice height, and it's all in your legs! You'll make an excellent addition to our class - I can sense it!"
"Oh," he felt himself blushing. "Thank you, Miss…uh…"
"Simmons," she finished for him. "But most of my students call me Jenny."
"Alright, thank you, Miss Jenny," he muttered, embarrassed. "Where is everyone?" Eren froze, eyes wide. "It - it's not just me, is it?"
She laughed, and it reverberated in the small room like a wind chime. "Goodness, no. Poor thing! You must be so nervous…." She shook her head. "They're all changing. Do you have your clothes with you?"
The brunette nodded, relieved.
"Perfect! Changing rooms are right behind you, to your right. There's a boys' and a girls' room, you can't miss 'em!"
He nodded again, turning and making his way out of the classroom.
"Eren!"
He swung back around, visibly startled.
"Sorry to scare you," she chuckled. "I just want to say…I'm glad you're with us. We could totally use more dudes!" She winked, and Eren grinned. He couldn't help it - she was so sweet, it was infectious.
Eren started to wonder if this class would really be so bad after all.
Eren hated everything about him.
He was an excellent dancer, with his ridiculous demi-pointes and assembles, all nimble and perfect. Not to mention his flawless developpes and coupes, which were impeccably sharp and languid all at once.
It made Eren want to tip him over, just poke him in the ribs and watch all five-feet-three-inches of muscle and annoyingly glossy hair crumble (gracefully, no doubt) to the floor.
Regardless, he found that he couldn't help but admire the young prodigy whirling around the dance room each day during D block.
Levi Ackerman, a short, angry-looking senior at the high school, was a schmuck. Like, a complete ass. But for some reason, Eren just couldn't get enough of him.
Their first conversation, if you could call it that, had happened during one of the early dance classes back in September, when Eren accidentally knocked into the bar whilst trying for a pirouette.
"Watch yourself, you clumsy shit," Levi had muttered quietly from behind him, eyes trained and unmoving on the wall ahead of him. He didn't miss a beat, despite the somewhat obnoxious shout from Eren and the quivering bar.
Since then, Eren had done his best to stay out of the older student's way, but to no avail. He almost always seemed to run into him in the hallways between periods.
After about four days, Eren realized that his friendly smiles and bright "Hello!"s would never be reciprocated. Levi wouldn't even acknowledge him, grunting irritably if their shoulders brushed and often glaring around him, somehow.
Eren knew it was just his own paranoia, but he swore he could feel those steely gray eyes fixed on him, boring a hole through his skull and making his cheeks heat up.
But obviously that couldn't be.