I arrived at the address Ryan has sloppily printed on the piece of paper the next morning. My duffel bag hung uncomfortably across my shoulder. Inconfident, I was not. I peered around the room anxiously. Young girls slightly older than me were scattered randomly around the large gymnasium doing their stretches. I walked toward two girls that were evenly spaced apart, layed my bag down and sat along with it.

"You don't mind do you?" I asked the girls politely. They both smiled warmly.

"Of course not." One spoke up first. "You're new right?" she was cute, with dirty blonde hair and sea foam green eyes. Her upper lip was thin, while her bottom lip was thick. It helped to even her face out. She was adorable. Her hair was pulled up into a tight bun and a single curl traced her hair line down to her chin.

"Yeah, can't believe I made it." I didn't sound so enthusiastic but the truth, I was still at a loss of words. Just thinking about the moment they called my name in acceptance. I finished, "I'm Renna, by the way."

"Brigette," said the one whom spoke to me first. "Very nice to have you with us, Renna." she smiled. Ah, now I know. She looks like this girl I went to school with way back in elementary.

"I'm Rachel." The one said barely under her breath. She had been a little busy stretching, which is exactly what I should be doing. I have to admit, Rachel wasn't as attractive as Brigette, but she did have positive physical attributes. I could read her already. Doesn't say much, probably due to a family that didn't care much for what she had to say.

The three of us chatted and got to know each other in small conversation as we stretched. The room was busting with giddy voices, but beyond it I heard the door open. I couldn't help but look over my shoulder.

Ryan stood there, looking around at the girls. I could read him, too. He was making it look like he was checking on our progress and dedication, but I could tell he was just gathering up some masturbatory material. Pervert.

He spotted me among the crowd and waved with a childish smile on his face. I replied with a toothy smile. Then, in the blink of an eye, three other guys appeared behind Ryan. They all had the same look on their faces that Ryan did when he first stepped into the room. What dirty little birds.

"Brendon!" Shrill screams and gasps came from every corner of the room. About six girls ran towards the door to this "Brendon". He welcomed them by offering his arms, like an usher would, girls scrambled for his arms. Once two girls were occupied by both his arms, he waltzed out the door, the lingerers following. I had never seen anything like it in my life.

"Fucking groupies..." I looked up to Brigette, the one who said it. She had a scowl on her face and then cheesed at me as soon as she noticed me cheesing at her for saying it. She draped an arm across my shoulders, "I can tell you and I are going to be really good buddies."

We took a short lunch break. I thought it was kinda cool that they provided small hot lunch for us. Like school, except it was better than school lunch.

Brendon and the girls came back, multiple colored lip smudges covered his face. I don't even know him, but I don't like it. He broke off with the girls and then our instructor, Marge, came in. Ryan and those other boys stood by the door way and watched. Marge called us to line up, we did.

She started the music and shouted, "Five, six, seven, eight!" She did some little jive as she counted, then gestured for us to follow suit.

I felt my blood boil and the music take me. The strides Marge took were embeded in my brain and I hustled to the music. A lot of the other girls were struggling. What? Did they try out without any real dance experience?

"Very good!" Marge called out to someone. I didn't bother to look up. The music stopped. I hardly used any engery for that. I looked up and to my surprise Marge was standing in front of me. "New girl, what's your name?"

"Renna Moss." I replied, as if I was in boot camp.

"Well, Renna, you seem to be the only one with a decent intention span." She spat, as if to the other girls. "Come up here." and I did so. "Brendon, come dance with her."

Good Lord.

He floated over to me. He grasped me as though I fit perfectly to his form. His hand lay at the small of my back and he pressed me against him tightly. His free hand took mine and my free hand rested on his shoulder. It was really awkward. He was fully dressed and I was in a simple leotard. This felt like a complete invasion of my personal space. Come on, I'm practically naked.

"I want to see how you two work together." Marge said and started up the small boom box again, except this time it was a slow song, "This is just for practice you two. Ladies! Work on the routine we've been practicing, don't be afraid to spice it up!"

"So, you're the new one I've heard so much about." Brendon peered down at me.

"Yeah, that's me.." I broke my gaze from him so it wouldn't show how much he really disgusted me. I didn't want to talk to him at all. I felt like he was really up in my "bubble". As if he could smell me and look into me. I'm creepy myself out just thinking about it.

"I heard you're our youngest dancer. Nineteen, is that it?"

"Eighteen, actually." I replied, still not making eye contact.

"Dip." he called out as he dipped me gracefully. For being such a creepy kid I felt safe as he dipped me really low. When I snapped back up, he kept talking. "Where ya from?"

"Michigan." I said lowly.

"Upper or lower peninsula?"

"Lower. Small town, Wyoming. It's like the butthole of Grand Rapids."

He chuckled. I didn't get it, because I wasn't even trying to be funny. Was this part of his act? I thought really dumb blond girls were only supposed to laugh at things guys say when they're not funny.

"I'm from Nevada." He put in after his chuckle fit was over.

"I didn't ask you where you're from."

His face fell in utter shock. He looked almost hurt, however, I really didn't care. He wasn't going to pull the wool over my eyes.

"That was a little harsh." He said in a sharper tone than he had originally spoken to me. "Don't you care to know anything about me?" he asked it in a knightly tone, almost as if he thought it would save my life just knowing him.

"What, finally found a girl you couldn't impress? I work for you. I don't have to know anything about you, let alone be attracted to you in any way. And quite frankly, I don't care to know anything about you."

I broke away from him without another word or a second glance.