Things with Poppy were awkward to say the least. After a few hours of sleep Alexia felt some of her hostility towards the girl lessen, allowing her to actually be in the same room with her without wanting to gouge out her eyes. After showering and dressing in black jeans, a t-shirt, and baggy button down shirt, Alexia headed downstairs, met with Poppy as she flipped an omelet out of the pan and onto a plate. "Good morning!" she piped cheerfully. "I made omelets for breakfast this morning. I thought you'd want something hearty to help you get through your first day back at school." Alexia rolled her eyes, bypassing her sister to grab an apple from the fruit bowl, pairing it with a bottle of water. "I can't eat that many calories for breakfast," she explained, as if it was common knowledge that Poppy should have already known. "Recitals are coming up in May and I have to be in top shape. I've been dieting for weeks now." Her sister's face fell slightly before she recovered, setting the omelet aside before wrapping Alexia in a hug. Alexia pat her on the back once; it was as good as it was going to get for now.
"Well, I've got a full tank of gas in the car, and here are your keys," Poppy explained, dropping the keys to her father's Mercedes into her hand. "I thought…well, I mean you were closest to him so I thought you deserved his car…" Alexia's jaw tightened as she felt the familiar sting in her eyes again, gripping the keys in her fist so tightly she could feel them pierce her skin. "Thank you," she replied through gritted teeth, turning away from her sister and quickly escaping the house. The gesture had been kind, and one that Alexia would not soon forget. As she entered the car, the familiar sound of the engine revving to life, she found that it wasn't nearly as difficult as she had thought it would be. She had many fond memories of her father in this car, driving her hours away for dance practice and recitals; her mother had never been able to attend, always finding something to fill her schedule with. Alexia wasn't stupid; she knew her mother never attended her practices or recitals because it was too painful for her to watch her daughter living out her dream, a dream she had given up to have her in the first place. Plugging her IPod into the radio she swiped down to her favorite playlist, the only thing keeping her sane lately. As the familiar beat vibrated through the car, Alexia thought she might actually be able to survive this.
She parked a fair distance away from the front of the school, managing to slip past the pods of students unnoticed. Her sister had been thoughtful enough to go ahead and pick up her schedule for her, sparing her the embarrassing trip to the office to get it herself. She made it to her first class unscathed, only being noticed by two other students. Honestly, she hadn't been that well known prior to the accident; she had spent all of her spare time in dance classes, competitions, and recitals. She missed quite a chunk of school to pursue it as well, and as such she didn't particularly have any friends. The group she had been included in prior to the accident had already graduated and left her behind. As she settled into her seat near the back of the classroom she turned her music down some, not wanting to blast it so loud that she garnered unwanted attention.
After unpacking her things, she turned off her music, winding the cord to her earbuds around her IPod before placing it gently into her bag, grabbing a pen to take notes with as the teacher stood up in front of the class and began his lecture. He didn't bother with welcoming her back, and she didn't really care. Within ten minutes of his monotone lecture on the differences between two mathematical terms she had no intentions of ever understanding, she began to get bored, instead using this time to peek around the room at her peers and see how many of them she remembered. There was Jocelyn from her art class, and Aaron from Civics. In the front row, as close to the teacher as she could possibly be, was Summer Winters, mini skirt hiked up as high as she could possibly get it.
Oh the irony of her name: Summer Winters—why the hell did her parents name her that? Were they just trying to force her into a life of prostitution and stripping? As the name suggested, Summer was quite a bit 'loose' when it came to sex, and she had no limitations—teachers were completely possible for her. Mr. Gerner was a perfect example of why Summer Winters got whatever she wanted whenever she wanted. As she twirled a strand of hair around her finger she shoved her pen off of her desk, feigning mock surprise as she bent down to pick it up, her low-cut blouse showing off her cleavage, giving Mr. Gerner a little show. Rolling her eyes, Alexia turned away from her, examining the row next to her.
A few seats down was a boy she vaguely remembered, yet didn't quite know. Intrigued by the fact that there was someone in Forks she actually didn't know, she leaned forward slightly, trying to discreetly get a better look at his face. He had skin paler than her own, which was more pronounced by his blonde hair. His eyes were a light golden color, with purple shadows underneath that revealed he must be sleeping as little as she had been lately. As if he could sense that she was examining him he slowly turned his head towards her, his eyes locking with hers for only a moment. Alexia jerked her head back down, suddenly interested in her nearly blank page of notes. She couldn't tell if he had looked away from her yet or not, and the more she thought about it the hotter her face became. She had never been caught checking someone out before, and she wasn't sure she quite liked the feeling of embarrassment that was flooding her system.
As soon as the bell rang, signaling the end of class, she slowly and deliberately gathered up her things, glancing up through her hair to make sure the boy was gone before sighing in relief. "Level five embarrassment in my first class…great day so far," she whispered to herself, slinging her bag over her arm before heading out to her next class. The boy wasn't in any of her other classes, to her relief, and soon the familiar escape of lunch arrived. Given her strict diet, Alexia bypassed the cafeteria, quickly downing her fruit and nut mix before changing into her dance clothes in the now empty gym. Poppy had arranged for her to practice in the gym during lunch whenever she wanted; it was empty until seventh period anyway, so she didn't see what the big deal was. But, the school had nonetheless agreed, as long as she kept her grades up. Plugging her music into the stereo, Alexia got into position, allowing the music to take over control.
Dancing was her only release—the only time she felt truly alive. The death of her parents had left her emotionless the majority of the time, a coping mechanism she had developed. But when she was dancing everything came alive; she could feel everything, be anyone, do anything. The range of emotions she experienced when dancing was difficult to explain, and as such she had never fully been able to get anyone to understand why it was so important to her—even her dancing friends thought she was insane on the few occasions she had tried to explain her connection to dancing.
Lost in the music, Alexia performed the routine she had been working on for recital auditions, a mix of ballet and contemporary dance that was choreographed by her dance instructor. It was more technically advanced than any of her teammates were attempting, and Alexia had been practicing nonstop to make sure it was perfect before auditions. Auditions determined more than just the dancing order during final assessment recitals—it was everything. Scouts from prestigious dance companies and schools all over the country would be present, but only at certain times. The recital was scheduled in a very specific way, the most promising dancers performing near the end of the event, allowing scouts to enter late without missing their best shot at a future employee or star pupil.
Screwing up one of the more important moves, Alexia broke from her musical paradise, cursing out in anger as she ran a hand through her hair, slamming the stereo off before throwing herself down on the ground, flat on her back as she tried to regulate her breathing. Every damn time! she thought, screaming at herself internally for not being able to land the move as she had when her father had been watching her. 'My little music box ballerina' he had said, clapping in delight as her smile beamed up at him from the dance floor. Groaning in frustration as the alarm went off on her phone, Alexia sat up, flicking the alarm off before standing, movement near the door catching her eye.
Startled, she sucked in a deep breath, rattled that the boy from before was staring at her through the gym door window. He quickly ducked his head as she spotted him, disappearing before Alexia could run from the gym to ask him just what the hell he thought he was doing watching her like that. Feeling more than a little unnerved that she was being watched by him, Alexia quickly changed back into her clothes before heading out to her afternoon classes.