The Ballerina

Johannes was a complicated man. Actually, Acelynn took that back. He was just a complicated man to be around.

“Pick up your leg!” He commanded in his faint German accent.

“I am.” She replied through gritted teeth as she preformed the Arabesque, where she pulled her right leg back behind her body, and directed it in a straight line north east behind herself, while balancing on her left leg.

“Don’t take that tone with Johannes, Acelynn.” Her mother ordered, sitting in a chair in the back of the room. She didn’t reply, only concentrated on the next move, where she did some more French verbs and landed on her knees; like a fallen angel. That was the end of the routine. “Bravo!” Mrs. Adams clapped her hands.

“It was a decent rehearsal, Acelynn. We’ll end it there.” Johannes said flatly.

“Wonderful progress, Johannes, just wonderful!” Acelynn’s mother fawned over the German dance instructor.

Acelynn pretended to gag (neither of the adults noticed, much to her distaste) and grabbed her dance bag from the shiny, wooden floor. And why should they? She was just their puppet – to fulfill their dreams of becoming some famous teenage-girl ballerina.

Without even announcing it to anyone, the teen walked out of the room, through the waiting room, and out the front door. She was still in her leotard and Pointe shoes. But it didn’t matter; Acelynn was just angry at her mother at that point. Mrs. Adams would probably drop on her knees if Johannes asked her to. Acelynn’s poor father was totally oblivious to it, even when he was in the room.

So Acelynn would walk the four miles back home in her ballet shoes and half naked, with only a hoodie she didn’t want to put on. The Adams didn’t believe in cell phones, so Acelynn wouldn’t find herself being rampaged by annoying, digital chirps on her walk when –or if – her mother noticed the disappearance of her only daughter.

Her Pointe slippers would get dirty and ripped – the only drawback. Most weren’t hard to replace, but these particular shoes were imported from Spain, and the silk was sown together by hand. Which meant they were very expensive, even in ballet standards. So ruining them wasn’t the best choice, Acelynn decided and sat down at the curb to untie them. She slipped them off and stuck them in her bag, then wiggled her toes. They were painted a ruby red, without any chips or imperfections.

She hated them.

“Well what do you know – a street rat ballerina.” A voice replied beside her.
There were only two occasions prior to this when Acelynn heard this voice; when he fought the principal about taking the detention, and when he yelled “fuck you!” to their English teacher after he got an F. Acelynn pivoted her head to face up, and look at Luke.
When their eyes connected, he let out a breath of smoke. “Dropped down from Heaven to be among us mortals.”

Acelynn didn’t say anything; she only got up and began to walk the other way.
“Need a ride?” He coughed.

“Why are you here?” She stopped, but didn’t turn around. Acelynn didn’t know why she was being so nasty to him, but for some reason the boy seemed to provoke it.

“As in, the grand scheme of things? Well, I’m not sure. I don’t personally believe in God, but I’m guessing you’ve heard of those tales. Every person on earth is the son slash daughter of Adam and Eve. They ate the apple—“

Acelynn began to walk again, and tuned Luke out. In the three years that they had known of one another, Luke had never said anything to her. And she wasn’t going to start listening now, especially if he was going to be condescending to her. The ballerina had enough problems.

“So do you need a ride?” Luke asked, in the same tone as before. Acelynn paused, and turned around just slightly so she could see the dark character out of the corner of her eye. And she didn’t even need to answer verbally; Luke put out his cigarette on the brick wall next to them and took his keys out of his pocket. “Let’s go.”

She hesitated, but she slowly stepped up to the red Chevy and opened the rusting door. Why? Why the hell was she following the strange boy to his truck? It was stupid and all of the logic in her mind was screaming for her to just walk. Maybe the seven miles back home would destroy her feet, but Luke was… Well, that was it – he was Luke.
However, Acelynn didn’t know what it was about him, but Luke was so intriguing and compelling. She just had to go with him. The truck smelt exactly like Luke – cigarettes and old paper. Luke started the truck after a few tries, and pulled out of the parking lot. He didn’t put his seat belt on, so Acelynn didn’t either.

They said nothing as they drove around. Luke didn’t even ask her address. She had an uneasy feeling in her stomach – either he already knew it, or he was taking her somewhere else. Acelynn wasn’t sure which one was worse.

“I need to drop off something at a friend’s house, and then I’ll take you home.” It wasn’t asking, it was a statement. Her whole life was based off orders from everyone around her. Acelynn was used to it. She only nodded in response. “Stay in the truck.” Another order. But once again, she only nodded as he stepped out of the truck.

He grabbed a paper bag from under the passenger seat filled with something that looked fairly light. Then Luke shoved his door open and closed it with a loud clunk. And Acelynn waited.

Luke knocked on the door. The house was extremely large and intimidating. It looked like someone rich lived there. She watched him be greeted by a boy, who looked slightly older than the two seventeen year olds and had the greenest eyes Acelynn had ever seen – even from far away. Luke gave the older boy the sack and the older boy smiled and thanked Luke – from what Acelynn could lip read. The boy looked at Acelynn and nodded his head towards her. Acelynn assumed he was asking Luke who she was.
Luke looked back at her and then faced the boy again. He said something Acelynn couldn’t see and the other boy nodded. Then Luke turned back around and walked a few yards to the truck.

“Sorry about that.” Luke sighed. That seemed very unlike him; apologizing. So far, he had treated the ballerina with as little decency as possible besides offering a ride.
Acelynn shrugged, and fidgeted with her white hoodie. For some reason, she didn’t feel the need to cover up her bare arms – to be modest. Because somehow she knew Luke wasn’t looking at her. He wasn’t watching her movements – judging her.

“What’s your address?”

“2718 Dawn Avenue.” She replied simply.

Luke nodded back, and continued to drive. But he had to take a sharp U-turn to get to her house, which slammed her head against the window. “Sorry.”

“It’s cool.” Acelynn said after regaining her composure. She refused to rub her head to try and make the pain go away – to show weakness.

The rest of the trip was silent, except for the sound of the road and a few honked horns. Not towards Luke – in his defense. When they reached her driveway, the black haired boy stopped with a sudden halt, causing Acelynn to ram into the dashboard. She saved her forehead, but jammed her hand into the interior.

“Sorry – again.” But he didn’t sound sorry.

“It’s fine. And thank you, for the ride.” Acelynn smiled weakly and pushed the door open.

Luke nodded in response. “See you later.”

The ballerina nodded too, and closed the door. “Yep.” She whispered.

Luke drove off, and saluted her in farewell. When Acelynn couldn’t see the old, red truck anymore, she walked up the wooden steps to her front door.

When she entered her quiet home, she realized two things; her mother still hadn’t returned – even though she should have been there twenty minutes before her. And that Acelynn didn’t ask why Luke was waiting for her after class.