The Ballerina & The Devil

Three. Failed Attempts

I settled into an empty seat in the center of the British Lit room. I hated sitting in the front because teachers, for some strange reason, decided that when you sit in the front you were going to be the one that answered every single question which was really annoying and tiring.

I didn't like the back of the room either because one it was hard to see the board, and two I usually ended up falling asleep due to the fact that I'm not in the teacher's immediate line of vision, so they couldn't call me out on it.

So, a seat in the middle of the room was perfect. For me at least.

So far, the day had gone by fairly nicely. First, second, and third period had breezed by. That had something to do with all of them being electives.

As a senior, I had obtained almost all the credits I needed to graduate in the spring next year, all I needed was an English class and a History class, so my schedule was basically complied of simple classes that didn't really require that much brain work.

Unfortunately, I had no classes with Majesty or Kenzie which royally sucked, but on the upside we all had fifth period lunch together. One more period to go.

The class slowly filled up and eventually the bell rang, signaling class should start. A woman, who I took to be the teacher, stood up from the desk in the right corner of the room and walked over to the front of the room.

She had her dirty blonde hair, that could be easily mistaken for brown, in loose curls that cascaded just past her shoulders. She had brilliant blue eyes, a well defined face, and pale skin. It was as if she had never been introduced to the thing I liked to call "the Sun".

The teacher cleared her throat and smiled, looking around the room. "Good morning, class," she said in a pleasantly soft voice. "My name is Mrs. Carol, and I'll be your British Literature teacher for the year."

I began the silent prayer, the one I've been doing in every class, that she wouldn't be that teacher who forced us all to play a stupid name game which consisted of us taking turns speaking to the class.

So far, not one of my teachers had done it, and I hoped she wouldn't be the exception. Mrs. Carol seemed like a nice lady, and I really didn't want to have to hate her.

"Alright," she walked over to her desk and picked up a clipboard. "First thing's first, attendance. Then, we'll go over the curriculum that'll be covered throughout the course, and the expectations I have for you as a class and as individuals.

I sighed softly in relief. It looked like I was out of the woods.

"And then we'll play a fun little game to get to know each other better," she finished.

I cursed silently. I totally jinxed that one.

Mrs. Carol went through attendance quickly to which I paid no attention to except when I heard my name being called, and then we got right down to business.

She listed the novels and poems we would be reading throughout the year, the different papers we'd be expected to complete, and the level of the tests and quizzes we were to take. She then went into the usual lecture about behavior, and how we had to treat her, each other, and ourselves with respect and kindness. She probably said some other stuff about the topic, but I had zoned out at 'kindness'.

I hummed softly to myself, tracing my pointer finger against the wooden desk I was seated in, as I envisioned a variety of dance routines in my head.

I began to make a mental list on what I needed to work on after school. There was my bouree that wasn't as graceful as it should be, my pirouette on pointe that lacked good form, my fondu was eh, and my adagio could be better.