Thank you guys for being so wonderful! The train is continuing to chug along. Here's a shortie.
Disclaimer: Twilight is not mine, but the words under here are.
The next day, I got up early and headed over to the studio to get a good practice session in. My night was restless for some reason and I knew that the only thing capable of soothing the itching under my skin was practicing and just dancing in general. Where some people smoked to relax, I put on music and just kind of went with it.
Thanking the holy Jesus, I made it through the subway ride without getting harassed or getting spilled on. Being the middle of the week, there seemed to be less people on the subway than there had been the whopping one other day I'd been on.
The same receptionist from the day before, I think her name was Lauren, waved me in from the moment I opened the doors. "Hi Isabella."
"Hi. How are you?" I asked, giving her a wary smile. It wasn't that I didn't like her, but she'd been kind of weird the day before. Unless she was on her period, then that would explain a lot.
"I'm great," she fluttered two pale blue eyes at me. "Some of the other company members are here and they'd like to meet you."
I instantly regretted not putting on any make-up before leaving the apartment. And choosing my oldest leotard, which was a faded purple with holes dotting the seams, and my rattiest —Alec liked to use the word hoochie mama instead— yoga shorts was not my best decision.
Smiling and nodding, I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, thanking God that at least I brushed my teeth and hair. "Yeah, sure."
"They're in Studio C," Lauren said before I walked into the direction of the rooms.
Hoisting my backpack higher up on my shoulders like a security blanket, I may have taken my time walking to the right room. I don't know what it was about introducing myself instead of being introduced that made me really nervous. I didn't have a problem dancing in front of huge audiences but meeting people was what made my hands clammy.
Pausing at the door, I knocked lightly. After a minute, I didn't get a response so I looked through the little window to see that the studio was empty. Frowning, I shrugged and hightailed it to the same small room I used the day before. I took my time stretching, making sure to stay in the different split positions longer than usual so I could work on my leaps.
I'm not sure how long I was in there; after a lengthy barre workout, I started running through some routines I'd done in the past so I could warm up before attacking some grand jetés.
There was something about leaps that pulled me in more fiercely than any other aspect of ballet. They were my greatest strength and the only thing I could thank was the good ol' Swan genes for my athleticism. People could snicker at me as much as they wanted, but these thighs were good for something.
No sooner had I finished Gamzatti, did I hear a low applause echo throughout the room followed by a voice that could only be described as hot chocolate. "Well now I know what all the fuss is about."
A version of Gamzatti: http : / youtu . be / JDlhyN5Ee44