A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews! As promised, here's some Sashelle goodness before the finale. I might post chapter 7 before then as well, but then again I might not. It depends on how cooperative the characters feel like being.
Sasha: I need you to come to school asap and pretend to be my mom. WEAR SOMETHING MOM-ISH.
Michelle read the text around 2:15 on Friday afternoon and decided, against her better judgment, to follow Sasha's instructions. Dressed in one of Fanny's old outfits, she pulled Hubbell's Cadillac into the parking lot and wandered around trying to find the front office. When she finally did, she was only a little surprised to see Sasha sitting in a chair of shame and trying to stem the flow of her bloody nose.
"Hi, I'm Mrs. Torres. I'm here because of my daughter Sasha...?" Michelle addressed the secretary in what she hoped was a convincing mom voice. It sounded slightly British.
"Ah, yes. Sit down, Mrs. Torres. I'll let Mr. Wasden know you're here."
"Why didn't you call your real mother?" she hissed when the gray-haired lady left.
"I did. She was in a meeting." Sasha sounded like she had a cold.
"What about your dad?"
"He didn't pick up. Neither of them would've come anyway."
"Punk-ass kid. What the hell-"
Her question was cut off by the return of the secretary.
"Please go on back. He's ready for you."
"Thank you." The faux Mrs. Torres smiled. "Come along, daughter dearest. Try not to bleed on the carpet."
It had been a long time since Michelle had been in a principal's office. It had been a long time she'd been in a school for that matter, except for the occasional community play. She still felt like an awkward teenager as Mr. Wasden, a weedy-looking man in his fifties, stood behind his desk and greeted them.
"Mrs. Torres? I'm Trevor Wasden." He shook her hand. "Do you know why you're here?"
"And I'm going to assume that my child did something wrong."
"I'm afraid Miss Torres assaulted another student."
"She what?"
Michelle shot Sasha a glance. The younger girl gave a slight shrug and switched tissues.
"She assaulted another student during her English class. It took a teacher and two students to pull her off."
"Why on earth...?"
"The why is not important, Mrs. Torres-"
"Please, call me Zsa-Zsa."
"Okay...Zsa-Zsa..." Mr. Wasden adjusted his glasses. "The why is not important. We have a strict no-violence policy here. Since this is Sasha's first offense, she won't be expelled or even suspended, but she will have to serve a month's worth of after-school detention as punishment."
The teenage culprit kicked her partner-in-crime's foot. Clearly this is where the parental negotiating powers came in.
"I'm afraid that won't work," said Michelle loftily. "Sasha has ballet after school every day. She can't miss one day, let alone a whole month! She's something of a star, you know."
"She should have thought of that before punching another student."
"Yes, well, you know children. I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement, Trevor."
"Mr. Wasden."
"Mr. Wasden."
"What did you have in mind?"
"Although her afternoons are booked solid, Sasha's morning and weekend schedule is quite empty. What if," continued Michelle, ignoring the fact that Sasha was flicking her arm to convey her disapproval, "Instead of a month of after-school detention, she comes in early each day for two weeks, including Saturdays, and scrubs toilets or something?"
Mr. Wasden rubbed his jaw, considering the proposal. Sasha took the opportunity to toss one of her wadded up bloody tissues in Michelle's lap as a sign of dissension. Michelle tossed it back and mouthed "behave!"
"That seems fair," he said at last. "Do you think so, Sasha?"
"Yes, sir."
"Your punishment starts on Monday. If an incident like this happens again, you'll be suspended. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"All right, you are free to go. It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Torres."
"Likewise, Mr. Wasden."
Michelle stopped at the front desk to check Sasha out of school for the rest of the day, then steered her out to the parking lot.
"All right, kiddo, spill," she said as the doors of the Cadillac closed. "You know better than to clock people. Especially during class!"
"We were discussing The Picture of Dorian Gray and one of the homophobic kids raised his hand and said he wasn't comfortable with reading something written by a gay man. I didn't say anything because touching that subject is suicidal. Then Jake Morgan, a stupid linebacker for our stupid football team who sits right next to me, said 'Let's ask Sasha what she thinks. Her dad's a fag.'" Sasha mimicked Jake's low, brutish voice. "And I told him to go screw himself and he said, 'Your dad would love to watch that, wouldn't he?' So I said if he didn't take it back, I'd make him. He thought that was pretty funny until I knocked him out of his chair with a punch to his stupid face... I kind of got carried away."
"You got in a fight with a linebacker?" Michelle was impressed despite feeling like she shouldn't condone the girl's actions. "And all you got was a bloody nose?"
"He didn't hit back," she admitted. "He flailed on the way down and knocked me pretty good, though."
"It took two students and a teacher to pry you off of him?"
"Ballerinas are tough and I was pissed as hell."
"No kidding!"
Sasha checked to see if her nose was still gushing blood. It seemed to have stopped, so she removed the tissue and wiped off the crusty remnants as best she could. Michelle started the car and pulled out into the street.
"Can I ask you something, sis?"
"Yeah, sure."
"People in Paradise talk about your dad a lot, right?"
"More than enough."
"But the principal said this was your first infraction. What made you want to go all Bruce Lee this time?"
"Well..." Sasha hesitated. "Normally Boo tells the ass-wipe to knock it off or says something to get me to calm down so I don't end up on America's Most Wanted. It's been like that since we were little. She defends me even when I'm not around. Even when I don't deserve it."
"She's not in your English class?"
"She is! That's what sucked the most." The young dancer clenched her fists and beat them against the dash. "She didn't say a single word when Jake started talking, not to me, not to him. I kept thinking that even if we were fighting, she'd still come to my rescue. She's that kind of person. But she didn't say anything. She wouldn't even look at me! When Jake said implied that all homosexuals are perverts, she didn't even raise her head." Sasha's eyes filled with tears. "And that's what she must think of me. She was okay with defending me when it was just my dad's sexuality, but now she knows I'm gay too? It hurt so much that I had to hurt someone else to be able to deal with it."
It was too much. She broke down sobbing. Michelle, her heart breaking to hear it, reached over and smoothed Sasha's hair.
"Let it out, sis," she murmured. "Let it out."
Sasha's eyes were almost dry by the time they reached Madame Fanny's studio. Even though there were cars parked all around, all the parents were inside watching their kids do wobbly pliés. The two self-proclaimed sisters would be able to have some privacy.
"Gah, will I ever be able to talk to you without crying?"
"Well, maybe if I stopped prying into the deepest recesses of your soul..."
"That would be nice."
"What are you gonna do when you see Boo?"
"I don't know. Try not to punch someone else. Try not to cry."
"Try not to cry while punching someone else?"
"Pretty much."
"Just remember: Boo has always defended you even when you were a bitch. Even if you feel like screaming, be nice to her. You don't know what she was thinking."
"Is that the kind of stuff a mom's supposed to say?"
"No clue. Deb wasn't much of a philosopher. I'm just kinda making this up as I go." Michelle shrugged. "Besides, I'm not doing the mom thing, remember? I'm strictly older sister material."
"Much older sister."
"Ignoring that. Promise you'll keep the bitch under wraps at dance today?"
"I promise."
"If you need to you can come over afterward and we can jump on the bed while singing at the top of our lungs or something."
"Sounds great."
Sasha grinned and moved to get out of the car. As an afterthought, she turned back around and hugged Michelle.
"Thank you."
"Any time, Sasha. I'll do anything for you but wear this ridiculous mom suit again."