LITMIR.BIZ

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dropping her hand from her mouth, hiding it behind her back.

      “Do let us know if we are boring you, Alexandra. Or if you are perhaps tired, feel free to go home, baby. Don’t let us keep you.”

      Alexandra ducked her head and wiggled her feet around uncomfortably, muttering, “Sorry.”

      “Do you see Anna sleeping?” Mr. Moretti continued. “You are the kind of student I hate to teach, the ones that make me want to quit. One student that just doesn’t bother, is too lazy to make an effort, these students bring down the entire class. You watch the class, and it would be good, clean work, except one student is always wrong, and that student is you. You never improve, you never listen. You think that you always know better than me, don’t you? You know what, if you don’t want to be here, just get out. I said, get out!”

      Alexandra stood in place, not moving, keeping her face blank.

      “Did you hear me?” Mr. Moretti screamed, coming to stand right in front of Alexandra, almost touching her. She stood perfectly still, staring straight ahead. For some reason the Winnie the Pooh theme song popped into her head, and she focused her brain on remembering all the words to it. “Fine, stay,” Mr. Moretti said, his voice soft and oh-so-quiet. “You always do what you want to anyway, why should this time be any different? You have no respect for anyone but yourself.”

      Giving a little laugh, he walked back to Anna.

      “Now Anna, sweetie, I want you to really focus on your port de bras for this solo,” Mr. Moretti said, the Cheshire cat smile on his face once again. Alexandra stood still for a second, quickly blocking what just happened. Just concentrate on your work, don’t think about it right now, and pretend it didn’t happen, she told herself, making her body relax. Breathe, don’t cry, she told herself as she walked over to the side and began learning the Rose solo.

      “Wow,” Julian whispered. “She was right. He really doesn’t like her.”

      “Nope, he doesn’t,” Tristan whispered back. “That wasn’t actually so bad. Last year, he told her that she made him sick and if she didn’t get out of his sight he’d throw up.”

      As Mr. Moretti worked with Anna, Aiko and Grace worked together. Alexandra tried to look interested in Mr. Moretti’s corrections for Anna and learn the Rose solo. Leon, Jonathon, and Kageki sat just outside of the studio playing on their Nintendo DSs. Julian and Tristan were bored. After they had stretched for as long as they thought they could, they went and sat on the piano bench, slouching so the piano hid them and they could talk.

      “Do you think this would be safe to drink?” Julian asked, picking up a half empty lychee juice box from on top of the piano’s key cover.

      “Gross, no! That’s been there for three days. George just keeps moving it onto the floor in the morning and putting it back when he goes home.”

      “Why?”

      “Um, I think to see if some idiot like you would drink it!” Tristan raised his eyebrows.

      “Right, makes sense.” Julian gingerly placed the juice box back.

      “Do you think he’s actually going to rehearse anyone but Anna tonight?” Tristan sighed. “Or is he just going to make us sit here for fun, like he usually does, or because the Demidovskis said he had to rehearse us?”

      “Well, I’d read the clock and see if he has any time to rehearse us, but I am way too lazy to read an analog clock right now.”

      “Don’t worry! Tristan to the rescue.” said Tristan sleepily, digging his cell out of his warm-ups. “It’s 7:58, so we have two minutes to rehearse. And it is completely pathetic that we are so tired right now!”

      “Poor Alexandra and Anna,” Julian said, smothering a yawn.

      “Better them than us, Jules. Wait ’til you’ve been introduced to the Russian choreography.”

      “Okay, finished,” Mr. Moretti said. The boys rushed downstairs, eager to go home. The girls limped to the hallway to take off their shoes before they attempted the stairs.

      As they got changed Julian said, “Did you notice that he didn’t even apologize or anything?”

      Tristan laughed. “If he had, he’d have to be sorry. And he’s not.”

      “Right,” sighed Julian. “He’s a total creeper.”

      Tristan laughed. “You think that’s creepy? You should see his wife.”

      “His wife’s creepy, too? That’s funny.”

      “No, no,” Tristan laughed. “I mean, his wife used to be a student at the academy. There’s like a twenty- or twenty–five-year age gap between them. They got married after she graduated. She was a Korean student and hardly spoke any English at all, and he sure as hell doesn’t speak any Korean.”

      “Wow!” Julian whistled.

      “Yeah! Come on, let’s go,”

      As they walked to the bus, Julian asked, “So what is going to happen to Kaitlyn? Did he actually mean it when he kicked her out?”

      “Yes, of course he meant it. But Anna can’t do both roles at once, and Mr. Moretti certainly won’t give Alexandra both casts of Arabian.” He swung his back pack to the ground and rummaged through it for his bus pass. “Mr. Demidovski will probably do something about it tomorrow. Besides, they need understudies.” They got on the bus and sat across from a highly high individual by accident.

      “Do you know whatsa good about coke?” he asked them.

      “Look out the window,” Tristan whispered to Julian.

      “It makes you freakin’ better, everything better. Hell, this whole freakin’ city shoulda take coke.” The druggie started rubbing snot from his nose to his cheek. As the bus lurched, the druggie lurched and fell into the bus aisle. Not at all fazed, he got up again, hauling on the bus bars. He noticed his bag of garbage, which he had left on the seat during his fall. “Bag a freakin’ crap, bag a freakin’ crap-garbage,” he said angrily. Falling against the bench, again, he reached up and tried to push open the window.

      “Should we move to the front?” Julian whispered while the druggie was trying to open the window.

      “Nah, he’ll just get pissed at us,” said Tristan. When he had managed to pry open the window, the druggie started to push the garbage through the window. As they were at a stop sign, the garbage fell directly on the neighbouring car’s hood. The druggie began to laugh gleefully.

      “Bag o’crap man, bag o’ freakin’ crap,” he chortled happily. “Waddyou think ’bout that, huh? Freakin’ hell, man.” As teetered toward their bench, Julian and Tristan moved to the front and started giggling

      “Shit, that was funny,” whispered Julian.

      “Bag o’freakin’ crap man,” replied Tristan. “Get it right! Oh hell, man!” They both collapsed into laughter again.

      Julian got into bed and turned out his light. Oh great, he thought. I forgot to call Will and Daisy again. And now he was too tired. Sighing, he turned on his lamp and managed to reach his laptop off his desk without getting out of bed. Pleased with himself, he flipped it open. He logged onto Facebook and sent Will a message:

      Having fun, sorry forgot to phone you again. Will phone you tomorrow. It’s really funny here.

      Love,

      Jules

      He smiled at his dad’s profile pic. Will had put a picture of himself holding River, who was modelling one of Daisy’s tie-dye shirts.

      He put his laptop on the floor, too lazy to put it back on his desk, and turned on his iPod. Only a few minutes, he told himself as he listened, slowly falling asleep.

      Chapter Five

      Kaitlyn

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