Plié and Clout

Chapter 4 - August, Teacher.

alright, and we're back. 

Say hi to August. 

MUSIC: lost boys - ocean park standoff

-rabid

***

STEPHAN

"I gotta go," I lift my backpack up over my sweaty shoulders and make to leave.

"Why such a hurry?" Rocket asks. I shrug.

"Sister needs a ride."

"From where?"

"First day of ballet today." I sigh. He lets out a snort then goes up on his toes with his arms above his head, mimicking.

"Watch out, they might get us going like the football guys." He tips his baseball hat at me and I just roll my eyes.

"See ya, Saggy." Rocket yells after me.

"Zip it, Rocket." I close the door behind me then stumble down the stairs and toward my car. My legs are shaky at best, the preseason workout hitting us way too hard. I toss my bag in the trunk and slap a hat backward over my damp hair. I pull down the little mirror and check to see that the shirt is doing what it should, and letting the sweat evaporate clean out of the fabric. My face is flushed bright red and I'm still a bit out of breath. I close the mirror and start the car. Jilly you better be ready, I reek.

I make my way down into Regina and past the apartment then back and forth a couple of times looking for the studio. When I finally find it, I'm double late and a little frustrated with the roads here. After getting traded I didn't have much time to figure out the city before the season started.

I trudge up the steps to the studio, my legs protesting every bit of it. I pull open the door, prepared to get yelled at by Jilly for being absurdly late.

"Steph!" She yells. I break into an easy smile.

"I really hope I'm not too late." I look around for an instructor.

"This is August, she's my new teacher, figure you would want to meet her." I make hesitant eye contact with a girl who looks my age. My heart seems to have absolutely halted in my chest, and I have to take a minute to ogle at her. Holy holy holy holy holy.

"You're staring." Jilly pulls on my arm.

"Huh?" I tear my eyes off the angel and look down at her.

"Alright, introduce yourself or something." I clear my throat once, then twice and then wipe my hand on the side of my shorts and hold it out to shake. Her fingers are long and cold and very very soft. I panic and my hands sweat harder. I shake her hand and then pull away quickly.

"I'm Steph, older brother." I stutter around.

"August, teacher." She laughs and I feel my head fill with blood. Holy shit.

"Same time on Wednesday and Friday, right?" Jilly asks August. She nods, but doesn't really take her eyes off me. I swallow hard and yank my line of sight. Holy holy holy holy. Jilly just laughs at me and I glance back at August. God must have crafted her by hand, she's pretty out of her mind. Dark hair and light eyes, absolutely stunning in leggings and a loose tank top. Just the right scale of athletic to all that good shit that guys like. Her hair curls behind her ear in one spot and the rest is pulled up into a ponytail from doing ballet. God. Her mouth curls quite easily into a smile and I'm in love with the little button on her nose. I need to get slapped across the face to make sure I'm still alive.

"Steph, walk." Jilly twirls around in front of me, and I stumble forward.

"Sorry, we did mostly leg today." My voice cracks like a preteen and my ears get redder. I hear August's light laugh behind me and, well, redder still.

Jilly gets me outside then starts losing her mind laughing. "You looked like you got hit in the head, Steph, could you make that more obvious?"

"What?"

"You think she's pretty." Beautiful. I think she's an absolute work of art.

"Uh, I, ye, yeah." She puts her bag gently into the back of the car and gets into the passenger seat. I take a long, deep breath and sit down in the driver's seat.

"So what are you going to do about that?" She raises her eyebrows at me.

"I, dunno?" My voice squeaks again.

"You looked like a blistering fool, first off. Second, you stink." I roll my eyes, recovering from August haze.

"Well yeah, duh, Nico does that."

"Whatever, all I'm saying is that you gotta do something because all I could think the whole time is how much of an idiot you would be all over her." She crosses her arms next to me and I let out a huff.

"I, what?"

"You and her would fit well, so therefore, you're going to be a fool about it." She gives me a look.

"I'm, okay, I don't particularly want to date right now?" I let out a sigh. "I need to focus on, well, hockey,"

"That kind of sucks," Jilly says. "I could be a damn great wingman."

"No swearing," I growl.

"I can swear if I want, I'm a teenager."

"Jilly, no swearing." I shake my head. "Don't you dare start to sound like Rocket."

"Rocket's hot." She blurts. I have a hard time staying focused on the road after that.

"Rocket is ten years older than you?"

"Doesn't matter?" She laughs. "I can still admire."

"No, I know he comes over a lot, but that is so not cool," I mumble. "Rocket? Really?"

"Yeah Rocket." She's still laughing and I'm tense. "He's huge on the internet, I've counted like four or five fan accounts."

"Fan accounts?" I ask.

"Face it, Steph, you're a minor celebrity. You literally play a professional sport."

"I know, I just," I shake my head.

"You have accounts too," she glances at me and I panic.

"I what?"

"Yeah, Fen still has the most, that man could be a model easy."

"We're basically just a team of looks, I get it."

"Goalie guy? Paxton? Ohhh." She puts a hand over her heart.

"You gotta not," I mumble. "I get it when it's like, distant pining, but, man, you've met these guys."

"So?"

"So? It's like creepy now." I say.

"Okay, whatever, I want to know what you're going to do about August, Mr eyeballs."

"I'm, nothing."

"You're so dating her." She laughs. I cross my arms in the entrance to the small apartment.

"As I said, I want to focus on hockey right now." I sigh. "Plus she's like, your teacher."

"Practice again Wednesday and then Friday." She says. "Three times a week, Steph,"

"And I'm going to act like a fool for all three." I make my way into the kitchen and open the fridge to think about dinner.

"So can I tell her about you? You know, plant that little spark."

"Jilly. I don't," I grab a couple of things and drop them onto the counter. "Aaaagh. Don't you dare tell her about my hockey."

"Why not? Who doesn't want to date a professional hockey player?"

"Exactly," I mumble. "When you're older you'll understand. I want someone to like me for me not for whatever skills I have, whatever money I have. Okay?"

"Clout. I know what you mean." She sets her head on the table. "So don't tell her you're the Stephan Sagamore of the Wolves. Got it."

"Do whatever you want, that girl is far out of my league."