Pointe Shoes and Spider Webs

4. Underwear

It's busy at the entrance of the ballet school. Peter has to make his way in through a small crowd of girls with donut buns in their hair. They're smoking right in front of the entrance. He holds his breath and gasps softly when he gets inside. He catches a whiff of his clothes. Even though he only passed the group of smokers, the scent is stuck in his shirt. Great. Now he's going to have to explain to May why he smells like that. He didn't notice the girls chuckling among each other while they stare at him, as he walked into the school.

Peter makes his way to the changing rooms. When he opens the door he's met by two other guys putting on their ballet flats. They're slightly younger than him.
"Hey, you new?" The black boy grins at him. "Or lost?" He has tight, short curls, and a playful look in his eye.
"New," Peter ducks his head and walks to the bench, grabbing his backpack from his back.
"Careful with Madame Touha," the other guy says. He stands up and puts his hand out to Peter. "She generally doesn't like new guys."
"I've noticed," Peter laughs and takes his hand. "Peter."
"Andres." He gives Peter a firm handshake. "This is Miles. Been here since we learned to stand up straight." Miles waves at Peter. Ah, so these guys know their stuff.

"Any tips for a beginner?" Peter sits down on the bench, taking his ballet wear out of his backpack.
"Stand in the back."
"And just do it."
"That sounds easier than it probably is." Peter chuckles nervously as he fiddles with his leotard.
"Nah, man. I mean, yeah, it's hard as balls. But just don't think about what you're doing when you're doing it."
"Exac," Andres adds. "You learn ballet through repetition."
"There's only so many moves and they all got their own name."
"Sounds intimidating, but alright." Peter gets up to take off his pants.
"Don't worry, man, if you want this, you got this!" Miles finger guns at Peter as he walks towards the door. "We're gonna warm up if you don't mind." Andres follows Miles to the door.
"That's okay!" Peter takes off his shirt. "I'll see you there!"

Peter could've suspected what was going to happen next based on Andres's cheeky smile. As he walks out he swings the door all the way open. It hits the wall, but doesn't come back to close. Peter stares at the hallway, frozen in place, his shirt still in his hands. Right outside there are at least eight girls, waiting to enter the dance hall. Peter's currently wearing nothing but his boxers. Most of the girls start squealing. Quiet panic rises in Peter's stomach and he desperately tries to cover up.

"Hi! Hello, I'm so sorry, this wasn't supposed to-" He freezes again when he makes eye contact with the girl from the shop. Oh, no. She stares at him with wide eyes and her mouth slightly opened. Their gazes stay connected for a few more seconds until she blinks a rapidly a couple times and looks away, collecting herself. She rushes through the crowd of girls towards the door and swings it shut.
"Let's get to class," he hears her say through the door. The crowd responds by booing her, but they move away nonetheless. Peter lets go of the breath he's been holding for a solid minute at this point. He drops himself back on the bench and stares at the leotard in his hands, processing what just happened. 

Not much later he hears a knock. The door opens slowly, but no one comes through from the other end.
"Hey, uh..." It's the girl from the shop. "You can't exactly wear boxers under a leotard and leggings. It'll show." Peter looks down at his boxers. "I should've said that at the store, but I figured you'd know."
"Oh." Peter doesn't really know what else to say.
"I suppose you don't have any other underwear with you?" She clears her throat.
"I, uh..." He looks at his backpack, his Spider-Man suit is skin tight, but the design on that usually hides his boxer lines. He obviously didn't think this through. As with most things.
"Here." Her arm pokes through the opened door. She's holding something skin-coloured in her hand. Peter gets up and walks to the door, slowly reaching for her. Their fingers brush past each other and she quickly pulls back when he takes the underwear from her. "Madame Touha usually has some spares lying around. It should be clean, I mean-" she breathes. "It feels clean." Peter stares at the door. "You need to bring them back clean, too."
"Right, got it."