Em & M[ complete ]

[02: Best of Friends]

Em & M

[02: Best of Friends]

Please. Someone shoot me. If that isn't too much trouble, I would like it to be within any minute now. The thought of dying seemed to be a more pleasurable experience than having to watch two preteens (I was sure they were younger than me) do a lot of X-Rated groping in public.

PDA much?

I was all for love and all that, but there was a fine line between being "in love" (please note the use of quotations here, ahem) and going Hormone Overload.

To think I went out here to get some fresh air only to be given the company of a couple who couldn't keep it in the pants. Geez. I might as well endure getting yelled at by Madame Mimi Leigh. I was sure that an overbearing headache was a lot better than having the thought of some twelve-year olds pass second base before I do.

With a sigh, I took one last breathe before heading back inside the dance studio. Grimacing, I could practically hear Mimi's unnecessary yelling before I could even open the building door. Dear me, why do I even come back here?

Oh, right. I liked it here (despite the fact that I get yelled at almost every minute of the hour).

As soon as I was inside the studio, I realized that Mimi's yelling was directed to one little girl instead of the group. She was new, I noted (and late, it seemed). I mean, I've been in the studio since I was five. I knew everyone who attended it. The little girl was probably six. Perhaps seven, but I doubt it. I had a thing for guessing people's age. Sometimes, I'd feel like I was psychic. If there was ever a television show about guessing someone's age, I would so own it.

Avery White: Age Guesser Extraordinaire.

It definitely had a right to it.

"Mimi!" I called, stepping towards my former dance instructor. For a dancer-slash-choreographer, Mimi had a bit (okay, a lot) of extra weight. But that didn't stop her from being such a great instructor. Even though all she did was yell at the kids (and me) all the time, I believed that she truly was the best out there. I mean, I've won a couple of competitions all thanks to her. If you could endure all the yelling and bi-atching, then you'd know that Mimi was a great instructor.

"What?" she snapped, her brown eyes glaring at me.

Oh, crap. She was mad. If looks could kill...

Damn it. I should have made my five minute break a ten.

Then again ...I didn't want an encore of Grossness Groping Galore.

Mimi pointed at the little girl. She was tearing up, holding back the tears behind her blue eyes. Oh, poor girl. I remembered my first day at MLS (Mimi Leigh's Studio). I almost hired a hit man because Mimi made me do twenty pushups due to the fact that my legs were bent when I did my pirouette (that really cool move where you literally whirl in one foot without puking your guts out; it's cool, try it).

"Do you need help?" I asked, looking over the new kid.

She sniffled, nodding. "Yes, please."

Aw, so precious. This she was just a bundle of fluffy cuteness all rolled up into a girl in sports bra with matching shorts. I haven't seen anyone this adorable since the last time I flipped through my photo albums.

She needed to lose it.

She wouldn't survive a week at MLS if she was weak and shy.

Mimi groaned, obviously frustrated at the fact that the new girl was a "crier," as she liked to describe them. "This is Ava," she stated rather calmly, "I need you to help her with the basics." She spoke the words as if it was something vile, like she was going to throw up just thinking about it. She took one last glance at Ava and sighed before she walked towards the other girls and began helping them with choreography.