I hear cries of disgust all around me. I'm not surprised it's the day my class gets back it's senior picture and not one girl is happy with theirs. Well that is except for me I couldn't care less about my pictur. I guess people would say I'm pretty but I like to keep it hidden under my dark hoodies. But now I'm staring down at the picture of a girl with raven black hair, dark chocolate eyes, and naturally red lips. All of these features are stark against porcelain skin spattered with freckles. That day my mom had made me were a blood red sun dress that even I have to admit looked good on me.

I jump when a deep voice from behind me says, "Man did you get your sister's picture or something?"

I turn to look at Seth the hottest guy in school and fix him with a dark stair.

"Oh sorry girl, your hoodie makes you look like a dude," Seth says "Hey are you new here I don't remember ever seeing you befor? Believe me if I had I would remember cues well you're hot." he says with a smirk.

I just roll my eyes and turn back to my pictur. I've been going to Jethro High school since the first day of school two months ago. Yet My only friend is from my last school, Blake savas. I don't care and evidently neither do the other students because no one tries to talk to me again for the rest of the day.

Once the last bell rings I'm out the door heading for my rust colored beat up pick up truck that looks like it belongs in the dump for scrap metal. I sigh as I climb into the driver seat even I think it's an unfortunate car. I have just buckled my seatbelt when my phone alerts me that I have a text. It's from Blake or as my phone knows him B.

Want 2 hang out?

Yes but later I'm headed to the dance studio for an hour.

Can I come?

Hesitantly I type back. I guess u can

Grate see u in 15

Great now I am going to have an addeance and I will have to explain why I pretend I am dancing with a partner. With a sigh I pull out of the parking lot and head to the dance studio.

After ten minutes I pull into a parking space directly in front of the small pink building with black awnings and a large sign that says Pixy Dancers. I've been coming here since I was ten years old when my mom finally convinced me to try dancing. Once I started I could not be stopped. I use it as my safe haven the place I go when I need to cool off.

I grab my dance bag and start to walk to the front doors. I jump when someone honks right behind me. I spin around to find the pine greep pickup truck of Blake's. The driver side door opens and my ears are assaulted by deep silky laughter as Blake steps on to the sidewalk. He is wearing old faded jeans and a snug fitting navy blue t-shirt. His blond crew cut is slicked back with water he must of just taken a shower. His blue eyes shine with amusement that show up well on his olive skin.

Something inside my gut twists as the crush monster bares its ugly head. Ever since I met him in 6th grade i've had a crush on him but have been trying to hide it because I love being friends with him.

He starts to walk over to me and I punch his shoulder then say "don't do that!"

My protest is met with more laughter as he walks into the dance studio. With a huff I enter behind him and say hello to Marlene the 28 year old owner of the studio.

"Is my normal room open?" I ask. She just nods with a smile.

I head back to the personal room at the very end of the hallway off of the main room. As I open the door I smell the vanilla air freshener Marlene uses in just this room. Two of the walls are ceiling to floor mirrors. There are no windows but there is a door leading to a personal bathroom. The floor is hard wooded and perfect for any kind of dancing.

I walk to the private bathroom to change into my black leotard and pointe shoes. I put my hair into a high ponytail, stretch ,then enter back into the dance room. Blake is standing in the corner trying to figure out what the different equipment does.

I silently laugh to myself as I walk over to the radio and play my favorite song to dance to. As soon as the music starts I begin to dance feeling the music moving through my body. I begin to practice group moves and automatically conjure up my dream partner in my mind.

He has an edgy choppy hair cut that falls just past his ears the color of fire. He has flawless sun kissed skin and amethyst eyes. His build is lean but muscular and he is one head taller than me. He wears loose fitting dress slacks and a slick black button up dress shirt.

Once the song ends I stay in my end pose until Blake says "Wow that was..... Anazing!"

I almost forgot that Blake had never seen me dance ballet befor. I almost forgot I have to explain my "partner" to him.

"Those moves you did aren't they done with a partner?" Blake asks.

"Yes" I say reluctantly.

"So was that why you looked like you were dancing with someone else?" He asks his amusement oveus in his eyes.

I don't answer him and he says "Where you pretending to dance with someone?"

He can read me too well I might as well tell him and retain some of my dignity.

"Yes Blake I picture my dream dance partner every time I dance." I say sucking up my embarrassment.

"Does your dance partner have a name?" Blake asks in a mocking tone.

"His name is Destin Cathal." I say confidently.

Blake laughs hard at this and he says "You even thought of a last name!"

While Blake laughs I go and change into my normal clothing. When I come back out he is still giggling out of control.

"Okay Let's go get something to eat." I say trying to distrack him from my "partner".

"I will go but you are never going to live this down." Blake says with a smile on his face.

I walk to the parking lot with Blake and try to retain my dignity.