I've never liked gym. Not once. Ever. Get the point? When I heard that we were starting a dancing unit I could've blown up taking the whole world with me. No way we could be doing what I hate most. I depise it more than the bloody, frickin' New York Yankees. Holy eff on a piece of toast! Shoot me down!
"All right," Mrs. Alworth (one of the four gym teachers who teaches dance with another gym teacher, Mr. Mountain.), "Girls line up on this line, Boys across from them."
I looked to Sam (NOT the horse fan) with a face of 'horrid realization'. She returned it with a look almost identical and a small laugh.
"No," she said quietly. I felt like screaming and running around the school, but I didn't. Obviously. I mean, seriously, who would? Not only would you look like a total idiot, but people may take you for insane. That could cause an abnormally large problem.
It felt like lining up to be shot as I stepped on that hideous cream colored line. Sam and I looked at each other once more. I twitched slightly. That was as far as I could go. Even if guys are idiots (note: Feminism rules!), I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings by showing their true inferiority. I'm not heartless.
Anyways, so it was time to dance. The jitterbug. Groan, mumble, and began to mildly panic. The jitterbug is a freakish and easy swing dance. Otherwise, swing dance is naturally easy and I'm just some flappin' implosion who's got a few issues that need to be sorted out. Probably not that terrible though...
I stepped forward because the lazy kid in front of me didn't feel like it. What a jerk. You're supposed to treat your superiors with respect! And girls! That's a double hit there!
As I tried my hardest to enjoy the terror and pain of the hour and half, I could only think that this unit was going to be the most hell I've ever experienced.