The Icey New Boy

Dance Class

Jay's POV: 1 week after my discharge, it's finally time for that dreaded class. I put on leggings and a crop top. I cringe looking in the mirror. I haven't danced since eight grade. At least The dress code is less strict. I stare at the barcodes on my arm. I take off my top. I look awful. There are so many extra scars on my chest. There will only be more there in a few months. 

I sigh and put on gloves and put my top back on. I stab myself with testosterone and take my birth control pills and my ADHD meds. 

"Hey, you ready?" Cole asks, standing in his clothes. He has on a form fitting top and sweatpants. "I didn't know your dad teaches hip hop." I say, joking. He rolls his eyes. "I can wear sweatpants, my ass and quads are too big for that. I'm surprised you're in leggings." He responds. "So what? Now c'mon! The others are probably already done with class, we're in the advanced section." I say, pulling his arm. 

Cole's POV: I see my father standing there. He's using his cane today. "Leg pain?" I ask. He nods. "You actually worse something form fitting today. I'm impressed." He says. I shrug. "Ok, now put on your pointe shoes, we're doing ballet, then musical theatre, then jazz, then an additional all level ballroom class. I nod then leave him to put my shoes on. I look around the mirrored room. IT IS an elective if I wanted to dance. But I don't particularly enjoy classes. 

Jay's POV: "Dang, when did you get on pointe?" I ask him, watching him warm up his feet at the bar. "A few years ago, I just don't ever talk to you about dance." "Ok, dancers, We have a harder plié combo today. I want first, second, fourth, and fifth today. Four Demis, one grand plié, then four Demis into relevés on forced arch, straighten legs, then soussus. Any questions?" 

No one raises their hands, so we start. 

Ballet is probably the hardest class. Cole did the entire class on pointe then put on character shoes. Poor guys feet. He was so expressive during musical theatre. I was able to keep up better with him during that class, luckily. 

Cole then put on his jazz shoes and I'll admit, he shocked me. He was so good at everything. He was better than the rest of the class! And that's saying something, because there weren't a lot of people in our class. 

I groaned, sitting down by my dance bag. "This was so tiring!!!" I moan. "Well, that means you worked hard! You looked really good!" Lou says, coming over to me. 

I watch Kai come into the room. "Oh, Kai, what are you doing here?" I ask. "Oh, I'm here for ballroom... uh, it sounded fun and I figured why not....I've already done a few Ballroom classes with Lou." "Oh, ok, should I stay?" I ask. "Oh, well, actually, you don't know how hard this class can get, and I feel like it'll be overwhelming for you." 

"Oh... ok... Uh, I used to dance before I came here-" "I agree with Kai here, I've seen you get easily frustrated by things like this and it involves a lot more movements that you wouldn't be comfortable with, involving hips, chest, stuff like that." 

Kai's POV: I feel like Lou explained what I was worried about. Jay doesn't ever bring up the scars on his chest, but I'm not dumb. I know exactly what they were. But, I don't care. Jay will always be Jay in my eyes, in Lou's eyes, and the dude seems weirdly homophobic....

Once Jay leaves, Cole and I both prepare for class. 

Samba of course. The most hips in one style. Jay hates his hips and chests almost as much as he hates his arms. I try to just focus on the lesson. 

Eventually, we split into groups, but luckily I get the choreo.