After 19: Dancing with a wolf
The piano music started up on Miss Chic's old radio and echoed through the dance studio. I walked over to the beam on the wall and held onto it in order to do my regular stretches. Phil never came out of the changing room, not like I was waiting for him or anything, but he remained unseen even when the teacher told us to get into first position. She looked around the floor and to her paper with an arrangement on it she had planned for this weeks session.
"Where is Philip Lester?" She asked us, everyone shook their heads. "Dan, you were in earlier. Did you see him?"
"He's in the changing room," I said without much thought.
Miss. Chic ushered me to go and fetch him and if there's one thing you need to know about MC it's that she isn't someone you'd argue with... and she'd also kill me with a hard stare if she knew I sometimes called her MC in my head.
"Newbie, you're wanted," I called into Phil but stopped when I saw the light was off. It was dark in the changing rooms and for a second I thought he'd gone home but I heard feet scuff against the floor and carefully walked in. The door closed shut behind me and covered the room in complete darkness except for a phone light. Phil's face was illuminated. "Miss. Chic's asking for you."
"Tell her I went home," he muttered and shut off his phone.
In the dark it was oddly easier to speak to him, it was almost like neither of us were there. I sat down next to him, I could see the shadow of his outline.
"Now why would I do that?" I asked.
"I thought you'd be happy I'm not ruining your little dance group," he laughed.
"Oh no, I am, I'm just wondering why." I knocked his shoulder playfully and his laughter died down. I thought maybe I had gotten too comfortable and slid away from him. I had to remind myself he was still the same Phil Lester from school, he hadn't changed.
"I can't dance... I'm going to make a fool out of myself," he admitted.
"Corbin bleu said he couldn't dance and look at him," I said remembering the summer when I binge watched High school musical.
"Not a chance," he said and either he was quoting the movie or he was telling the truth. I didn't know which.
"Come on, Miss. Chic won't wait forever..." I trailed off and walked away from him. I didn't have the energy to argue with anyone, especially not Phil, and I wasn't going to boss him around. He chose to come here and he can choose to leave again if he wants.
The door opened and light flooded in again, I looked back at Phil for a second but he made no attempt to move so I carried on back into the studio without him.
"Well?" Miss. Chic asked me as I arrived and I was about to make an excuse but I heard the door open before I could say anything. I looked around and saw Phil walking out, head down so his dark hair was covering his face. He ignored me as he bumped past me and stood in my spot on the bar.
"Posture, Lester!" Miss Chic yelled at Phil who straightened up slightly and gave her a smile. "A smile won't work on me. Howell back on the bar."
I took position at the bar and we continued our usual routine.
"1,2,3. 1,2,3." I counted almost reflectively as I worked my way through the basic positions. It was hard to keep count. Usually I could close my eyes and take in the music without any thought but I was really focusing because my mind kept getting caught up in how Phil was doing. He was right when he told me he couldn't dance, or maybe it was just hard for him to nail the routine since Miss. Chic didn't really explain it. Everyone here had been doing the class for a minimum of a year, it was just something you had to pick up as you went along. Everyone besides the people who started as kids had to put the extra effort in to learn but I didn't think Phil would be one of those people. He would be one of the ones who dropped out after the first month.
"Time to practice our Fouette turns!" Miss. Chic announced.
"What's that?" Phil asked.
"A pirouette performed with a circular whipping movement of the raised leg to the side," Miss. Chic told him almost immediately.
"Am I supposed to know what a pirouette is?" He questioned again, looking more confused than ever.
"It's just a turn," I told him.
"Howell. Since you're so keen on helping him, why don't you teach him the move?" Miss. Chic asked me although it wasn't really a question I could say no to. I tried to anyway.
"Don't you usually let them figure it out? I'm sure he'll learn."
"In time but he's clueless so don't make me ask again," she said defiantly and I stomped over to Phil.
"Come on, let's get this over with," I huffed and demonstrated to him how it was done.
"Good posture," that was the closest Miss Chic got to giving a compliment.
"I can't do that," Phil shook his head at me at Miss. Chic left us.
"Then go..." I shrugged, it wasn't like he wanted to be here. "Why do you even care if you get kicked out of basketball?" I asked him and for a second I saw a look of sadness cross his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again like he couldn't say it. He scowled at the ground.
"None of your business, I just do."
"Let me guess. It's because Alfie does basketball and you're his puppy dog?" I asked and Phil looked shocked at my words. I felt a little shocked. Maybe it was because we were in my territory not his that I felt like I could say whatever I wanted or maybe it was because I was still annoyed about everything happening in my life. I didn't know the reason but I did know that I felt like I could say anything to him and he couldn't do anything.
"The opposite actually," he told me and my sudden burst of confidence deflated. Was he trying to find an outlet away from Alfie? What did that say about their friendship?
"Its basic ballet, you can do it," I said instead and he looked up at me strangely like he hadn't expected me to help him. "Get into fourth position."
"This it?" He asked and got into the position.
"Yeah. So you did do some research?"
"Not enough apparently," he made a face and I chuckled a little, "Am I doing it right?"
"Just... here," I had only helped one person out with positioning before so I didn't really know how to explain it so I gently placed a hand on his hips. He recoiled like my hands were made of irons.
"Woah! Watch it!" He barked at me a little too loudly. I looked to the teacher but she was too busy in her routine with the rest of the group to notice.
"I'm helping you." I wish I knew why
He wearily got back into position and I placed my hands back on his hips. "Youve got to make sure your weights evenly distribute, okay?" I moved him correctly and he nodded.
"Okay, now with your arms you want to do this when you turn." I made the actions and Phil tried to copy them but he seemed a little confused. I took hold of his hands to show him but froze instead. They were warm and soft. He yanked them away before I could memorise the exact way they felt but they were there long enough to send a tingle through my body and make my heart pound.
"Dude! Warn me when you're going to randomly grab hold of me," he snapped again.
"Sorry, sorry," I said and attempted to pick up whatever pride I had left in me. "I'm going to move these arms like this." I kept moving them for him and finally I let go. "Keep going."
"I look stupid just flailing my arms about," he moaned.
"Everyone looks stupid when they're doing something new."
"When can I start turning?" He asked eagerly.
"Do you think you're ready?"
He dropped his hands.
"Do it one more time and I'll copy you," he told me and I obliged.
I spun multiple times to show him what it should look like. I could finally feel the music traveling through the wooden floors and into my ballet shoes. I felt free with the breeze rushing through my hair and touching my skin. When I stopped I wanted Phil to be amazed at me but he was very quiet. I coughed awkwardly and felt like I shouldn't try to show off to people. I didn't know why I was trying to impress him anyway.
"Your turn..."
"Okay..." Phil tried once and almost fell to the ground but I managed to catch him before he fell and pulled him up.
"Sorry I didn't warn you about the touch but I had to be quick to stop you falling on your ass," I said and laughed a bit. Phil turned bright red. "You'll get it."
"I wasn't made for dancing... I might sit out," he told me and looked at the benches in the corner of the dance studio where adults usually sat (except they were empty today because Miss Chic isn't the nicest to visitors so parents tend to stay away until after the session.)
"No! That's not an option."
"You can't boss me around," Phil huffed, obviously not getting why I had said it. Miss Chic doesn't let people just 'sit out', she'll make you dance until your feet are sore and you're in tears... and maybe even after that. There needs to be a reason.
"Do the spin again and fall."
"What?" Phil looked confused again.
"Do you want to sit today out? You can work on your turns later or something but if your heart isn't in the music you won't be much good right now," I explained. I knew from experience that participating just wasn't enough if you're not feeling it.
"What do I do?"
"Turn and fall."
Phil did the turn again and just like before he began to fall to the ground, except this time I didn't stop him.
"Miss. Chic! Phils hurt his ankle." Phil groaned in mock pain catching on to my plan.
"Get him an ice pack and make sure he's okay on the sidelines. Watch the routine and memorise it boys!" She clapped for me to hurry up.
"Touch incoming, I'm lifting you up," I warned.
"I can walk you know," Phil grumbled but allowed me to lift him.
"Got to make it believable," I told him with and smirk. But I wasn't sure that was the only reason why I wanted to help Phil over. I had to admit that my bodies electrical signals went into overdrive when I was near Phil.
AN:
Well this was a long awaited chapter! Sorry it's been so long, I have another chapter to update later tho so double update day whoop ^-^
How are you liking the ballet stuff? Is it obvious I only learnt half of the lingo today because I don't do dance?
- Rach x
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