I'm Not a Princess
Seventeen
Avery gazes around to the band, peering at the truth in their eyes. "Well..." she says slowly. "I- I'm going to, um, have to consider it. For a while, I mean. And, well, they might need to find someone else, cause..." she swallows, shifting on her feet uneasily.
"Aw, you can do that just fine," Gabe smirks, tapping her nose. "Won't you? We leave in a month, and the dancers need three weeks of training for all of our songs. There will be two busses for all the girls and it would be perfect if you were one of them."
"I'm sure," Avery says slowly, eyeing him. So far, all she can see is him is what he thinks of himself. Smooth, definitely. Slick, very much. But does he really mean it? Probably not- he's the kind to take girls, make them fall in love, and leave them before the going gets tough.
And, after all, Avery has sworn off boys. This Gabe Saporta is definitely a huge no-no.
"What, Mrs. Swarez?" Avery asks, stunned.
"Please go. After all, you've just gotten a raise and you haven't taken a vacation since you started- and don't you try saying the Holidays count, dear, because they don't. Except this vacation, you'll get paid."
"But- but Swarez, it's a tour. That means I'll be gone for- for months!" Avery tries, frantically thinking of ways to get out of it. At first, it had seemed sort of fun- but after thinking hard about it, Avery wasn't too sure. Boys, booze, dirty dancing... that wasn't really her thing.
Even if she got to travel around the States and get paid dancing.
"Yes, I know," Mrs. Swarez sighs, leaning forward on her desk and peering at Avery. "Five months to be precise. June to October, hon. By the way, here is your portfolio with the other chosen girls. You need to bring it down to their personal studio when you leave next week."
"Leave? Where? Next week?" Avery asks in confusion, sitting down, stunned with everything.
"Yes. They don't care for staying here so you'll be heading over to another studio in San Francisco. They have a marvelous recording program there and they believe it'll help the dancers best in preparing for the tour. Plus, that's where the first show will be."
"San Francisco?" Avery asks numbly.
"Yes, dear. Now if you repeat everything I say, we'll get no where, you understand? And I'll need you to be keeping good eyes on the rest of my girls, hon. I can't have anything happening to them, my star pupils. They'll be coming over tomorrow and we'll explain everything perfectly then. But now, I need you to know everything so you won't be as surprised. You'll need to be completely packed for the following months when you head to San Francisco. Half the time, you and the girls will be able to stay in hotels, but you'll be sharing in rooms, so you'll have to work something else. Your raise should be in the mail by now, and they'll be paying you every Friday. Understand?"
By then, Avery had come come out of her daze and nodded quickly. "Right. Um, of course. I understand, Mrs. Swarez."
"Good," her boss nods. "You'd better, because you'll be in charge of these girls, and don't forget. Now this is over, could you please go? I have to make some calls."
"Of course," Avery nods and hurries out, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Aw, you can do that just fine," Gabe smirks, tapping her nose. "Won't you? We leave in a month, and the dancers need three weeks of training for all of our songs. There will be two busses for all the girls and it would be perfect if you were one of them."
"I'm sure," Avery says slowly, eyeing him. So far, all she can see is him is what he thinks of himself. Smooth, definitely. Slick, very much. But does he really mean it? Probably not- he's the kind to take girls, make them fall in love, and leave them before the going gets tough.
And, after all, Avery has sworn off boys. This Gabe Saporta is definitely a huge no-no.
"What, Mrs. Swarez?" Avery asks, stunned.
"Please go. After all, you've just gotten a raise and you haven't taken a vacation since you started- and don't you try saying the Holidays count, dear, because they don't. Except this vacation, you'll get paid."
"But- but Swarez, it's a tour. That means I'll be gone for- for months!" Avery tries, frantically thinking of ways to get out of it. At first, it had seemed sort of fun- but after thinking hard about it, Avery wasn't too sure. Boys, booze, dirty dancing... that wasn't really her thing.
Even if she got to travel around the States and get paid dancing.
"Yes, I know," Mrs. Swarez sighs, leaning forward on her desk and peering at Avery. "Five months to be precise. June to October, hon. By the way, here is your portfolio with the other chosen girls. You need to bring it down to their personal studio when you leave next week."
"Leave? Where? Next week?" Avery asks in confusion, sitting down, stunned with everything.
"Yes. They don't care for staying here so you'll be heading over to another studio in San Francisco. They have a marvelous recording program there and they believe it'll help the dancers best in preparing for the tour. Plus, that's where the first show will be."
"San Francisco?" Avery asks numbly.
"Yes, dear. Now if you repeat everything I say, we'll get no where, you understand? And I'll need you to be keeping good eyes on the rest of my girls, hon. I can't have anything happening to them, my star pupils. They'll be coming over tomorrow and we'll explain everything perfectly then. But now, I need you to know everything so you won't be as surprised. You'll need to be completely packed for the following months when you head to San Francisco. Half the time, you and the girls will be able to stay in hotels, but you'll be sharing in rooms, so you'll have to work something else. Your raise should be in the mail by now, and they'll be paying you every Friday. Understand?"
By then, Avery had come come out of her daze and nodded quickly. "Right. Um, of course. I understand, Mrs. Swarez."
"Good," her boss nods. "You'd better, because you'll be in charge of these girls, and don't forget. Now this is over, could you please go? I have to make some calls."
"Of course," Avery nods and hurries out, shaking her head in disbelief.