Chapter 7 – Humility Smarts

It wasn't as difficult to keep a covert eye on Elizabeth as Blake had imagined; he had his classes with her, and eyes and ears in the form of Chase and Andie. What was difficult was speaking to her; she was still ignoring everyone and was nowhere to be seen at lunchtimes. "She can't be going home. You'd have to sign her out, right?" Chase muttered to his brother when they had a quiet moment. Blake nodded.

It was a good three weeks before Blake discovered her hiding place.

Quite by chance he was walking through the older part of the school which, over the summer, was meant to have been renovated. However, with the board of governors and the benefactors of the school paying through the nose for the new parts of MSA; the new classrooms and studios that were supposed to smack of the "change is good" slogan he'd been charged to promote, the older areas had been used less and were more for rehearsing or just plain fun. Of course, all the students preferred the newer facilities and if there was any rehearsing to be done, it would be done there.

The low hum of music reached Blake's ears as he walked and read the mock up of next year's prospectus. Startled, he looked up. It was not unusual to hear music within a performing arts school. However, the corridor was near deserted apart from a few actors who were painting sets. "Where is that coming from?" he asked a girl with round glasses and braids. She looked up, holding a paint brush which was in danger of dripping. "Urm," she started, squinting down the corridor. "Studio 9 – the one with the long single window. There's a girl in there," she added, watching his expression. He stared down the corridor to where the old studio was. "She comes here most days," piped up another actor, who was wearing a trilby.

"Thank you," he murmured before heading there. The music, which was getting louder as he neared the room, was a song he had heard before but couldn't quite place. The female vocals were quick as well as a fast paced beat.

He could see Elizabeth as he approached the glass, who was dancing in leggings and a t-shirt. She moved quickly, effortlessly even, in time with the track, which was now drawing to a close. As it did so, she finished with it and waited for the next song to begin blaring out from the tiny stereo in the corner, pacing and pointing her toes in the mean time. This track was slower and so she moved slower; using more ballet technique this time. The look of concentration on her face, Blake thought as he stared. Complete focus. She was not thinking about anything but the timing of the music and the tread of her feet on the floor. Opening the door, he stepped in but she hadn't heard, so he stood and waited for her to finish.

When it came to the middle, he began to recognise it; although now the movements she had shown him were more fluid and practised. The chaînés turns worked brilliantly by ending in fourth momentarily before sweeping round into another serious of leaps. Turning, she opened her eyes and spotted him, jumping out of her skin as she did so, and nearly losing her balance entirely. Pausing the track, she tried to catch her breath and looked at him wide eyed. "Director Collins," she managed to say, her voice slightly raspy.

"Hello," he replied with one hand thrust into his pocket.

"What...are you...what are you doing here?" she asked reaching for a bottle of water. He could see the gleam of a thin layer of sweat on her forehead and collarbones but looking elsewhere, he said, "I was about to ask you the same thing, Miss Cross."

She looked at him strangely. "Dancing. Why, am I not supposed to be in here?"

He shook his head. "No, no, you can use this area. I just didn't think anyone would. Seeing that the new studios are open."

She pulled a face, having caught her breath. "These are perfectly fine. The floor just needs vanishing. Besides," she added, "everyone's in...the new ones," she said slowly, suddenly realising Blake was watching her with a bemused expression. "Was something the matter?"

"I saw your routine. The steps we worked through look even better when set to music," he said, as way of conversation. She nodded fiercely. "Much better, thank you again." She looked down at her feet.

"What are you...rehearsing for?" he asked with a frown, looking around the room. It was dustier in here and she was right, the floor was scratched to within an inch of its life.

She shrugged. "The showcase, I suppose."

"You suppose?" he said with a raised eyebrow. "But that's months away. In June."

"It doesn't hurt to be prepared."

Blake felt his mouth open in surprise. He hadn't met a student yet who was beginning to piece together their final showcase this early. Not even Sophie. It was unheard of to begin before Christmas, seeing as the academic exams came first.

"Well," he said, before coughing and looking at his watch. "Don't hesitate to look for help if you need it." She nodded. "Thank you, sir."

He turned away to go but glanced back. She was already re-tying a wayward ribbon, not paying any attention to him. Her ponytail had fallen forward, flopping over her head as she hung upside down.

"Cross," he said. She looked up, startled he was still there and gave him a rare smile, though it was faint. "Keep up the good work," he said, before turning on his heels and striding out.

Elizabeth straightened out and put her hands on her hips, watching him go with a bemused expression.

*****

The extra rehearsals didn't stop there. He walked by the studio over the following weeks to see if she'd returned – something that he was careful not to be too conspicuous about, for fear of arousing suspicion in the thespians he had encountered before – and she was there, each day, without fail. One day it would be classical ballet, to something like Mozart, the next a modern dance. He had returned to see her reaction to the newly vanished floors; though it was difficult to tell if she was pleased at all.

And it went beyond lunchtimes. Chase said he saw her after school most days in the studio, the newer one this time. Blake supposed with no one to fight for it (no one was rehearsing for anything yet) the big hall was fair game. He didn't dare 'accidently' walk by to see what she was up to, but he knew she would be tirelessly working on her so called routine for her final showcase. Relentless, but still friendless, Blake became increasingly worried about Elizabeth's focus on her dance. He had never met anyone so entirely...he struggled to think of an adjective to describe it...dependant, on the art of dancing. She shunned everyone and everything else in favour of it and even Blake, who was known for his focus and the tendency to prioritise it above most things, was beginning to see her behaviour as worrying, dangerous even.

The final straw came on a Wednesday, in November.

Blake was pushing his way through the students on his way to his office when he realised the increase in teenagers in the corridor was due to a commotion further down. There was a general murmur and bustle as people stopped, mumbled to their friends and craned their neck to see what was going on. Blake found himself raising his chin to catch a glimpse of the scene. When he finally did see it, he couldn't stop his mouth from opening partly.

Elizabeth was furiously tearing down paper from the walls and lockers of the corridor. Even without crying, the raw emotion on her face was terrifying and it was obvious she was upset. As she turned with a handful of papers, he saw a flash in her eyes; almost murderous and definitely stormy. He kept quiet for now.

"Who did this?" she spat angrily, and he was surprised because she didn't normally give more than a few syllables to her fellow students.

"Who did this?" she repeated waving the papers in the air. Blake lifted his foot to see one; a picture of her, taken while she danced, had been edited (badly) in Photoshop; someone had drawn a crown on top of her head and a box of electrical buttons on her chest. The text below said "Today's poll – Elizabeth Cross: Ice Queen or Heartless Robot? Tick appropriate box" Blake suddenly felt her anger. This was not like MSA students.

"Ok, ok," he said finally, breaking through the crowd, until he was in the space where she stood. "What's going on, Elle?" he said, saying her first name so she might calm down. She looked at him.

"What's wrong?" she said. "Some moron thinks it's hilarious to pass judgement on other people's characters." She wasn't talking to him anymore; she said it loudly, so everyone could hear. Blake saw Chase's face in the crowd, standing beside Andie. They looked shocked too.

"Elle," he reasoned. "It's ok; we'll find out who did this, they'll be reprimanded." She turned to look at him, taking a deep breath and nodded. He put out a hand which she placed the papers in. "Right everyone!" he called out. "Take these down for Miss. Cross please!" The students murmured but began to move.

"Director Collins," said a voice to his right. It was a stocky musician who he recognised as Felix Detroit, a new junior who he had spoken to on more than one occasion. "It was me Director," the boy said, not looking at Elizabeth who was staring at him with horror. The crowd stopped to listen again. "I made the posters and put them up; but it was only meant it be a joke...you know, because you're so standoffish with everyone," he said looking at her finally. "We didn't think she'd take it so..."

He didn't manage to finish as Elizabeth, swinging her full body force into her right arm, went to hit him and made a sharp crack as her fist connected with Felix's face. The boy, completely unprepared, fell down, bracing his fall with open palms. Blake moved quickly. Wrapping his arms around Elle's front, he felt the force with which she was shaking with rage. "Miss Cross," he said in a low hiss, by her ear. "Control yourself and then go sit outside my office."

Felix looked up from the ground with alarm in his eyes. She'd hit him well; the bruise was already surfacing, a gash of blood streaked across his cheek and the swelling had begun. Blake looked at her clenched fist. She wasn't even wearing a ring on that hand. "Miss Cross," he repeated, angrily. He felt her body relax and as she did so, he let go of her. "Office. Now," he said, exerting his authority. No one around them dared speak.

"Hilarious," she said quietly, looking at Felix. Chase had stepped forward and went to help the boy up. Elizabeth exhaled deeply and pushed through the crowd. Blake looked at his brother with a frown. "Take him to the medical room, will you Chase?" The blonde haired boy nodded but couldn't smile. "And Detroit, when you're done, you can make your way to my office too." He ran his fingers though his hair. "The request still stands. I want these papers destroyed. Recycled. Whatever makes you happy; just get them out of my school!" He looked at Andie with a pleading expression and she nodded, beginning to take them down and encouraging others to do the same.

Blake sighed deeply, and started towards the office, preparing himself for the onslaught that followed.