Diary of a Reluctant Ruler

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Jenn was with Iona in the foyer on Monday, waiting with her for me. She smiled quietly at me, and then followed us up to Rowan, before waving goodbye and heading to Holly. I was already oddly nervous about the coming Thursday, which would herald the first school dance lesson. I couldn’t understand myself; I wasn’t bad at dancing, so why be nervous? I didn’t have to show I was good at it either, like when Mme Vennart taught me… Maybe it was simply the fact that I didn’t want to fulfill the stereotypical view that I was perfect.

Monday passed quietly, my free occupied by homework and conversation with Henry, who shared all my frees and sat with me at the same table in the Rowan common room. Tuesday and Wednesday were similar, apart from Wednesday having English, which was, to be frank, torture.

I still wasn’t having a great time with the poetry.

And then it was Thursday already.

O.O

:O

No fair, my smilies don’t work in italics…

Jenn had taken to meeting us in the foyer, so she’d asked me the day before what she should bring in; I’d suggested the usual loose attire.

Eh? Jenn isn’t a slut.

Not loose in that sense, idiot.

Oh.

She looked very pretty Thursday morning in a beige skirt, and red top which matched the embroidery on the skirt. David stood next to her, talking about a book they’d both read.

“You look nice,” I commented, and she blushed slightly.

“For dance, you know,” she mumbled.

“Dance?” David asked curiously, watching Jenn’s blush fade.

“We signed up for the ballroom dancing class after school,” she explained.

“Didn’t know you can dance,” he replied.

“Can’t,” she sighed, “I mean, I’ve never tried.”

She trailed off and was silent.

“We’ll see how it goes,” I said.

Jenn smiled and we began to walk up to Rowan. David lingered outside as Jenn disappeared around the corner; an odd confused look on his face. Iona frowned and pulled him in after us.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as we sat down.

I pulled out a folder and flicked through my notes. The rest of the day went fairly fast- far too fast. I got to last lesson and I was wondering desperately whether I could somehow go home, but Jade knew she wasn’t coming to pick me up until 5.00pm; Jade was driving me to and from school now instead of the chauffeur. Grandmother was nothing if not practical; it saved money. But no, I was fated to stay behind and dance, which was odd, because normally I would have welcomed the chance to dance without Mme Vennart or snobby dignitaries.

Jenn was in my English Literature class, which was last lesson, so we walked down the road together; dance and drama were set up in the huge alabaster building which was the oldest part of the college.

“You seem nervous?” Jenn asked as we walked.

“Yeah, I dunno why…”

“It’ll be fun!” Jenn said, “Besides, I thought you’d had some dance lessons.”

“I have, I just… I really don’t know.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jenn said.

The studio was old-fashioned with gorgeous tall windows and a high ceiling, but with modern mirrors replacing the wooden paneling across one wall. A couple of other girls were already there, and then a group of five, both boys and girls, were surrounding the piano at the end of the room, someone playing something very beautiful, and very fast. One of the separate girls, who I recognised from Rowan, waved and came over.

“Hi Jenn, I haven’t seen you for a while,” she said, “You must be M- er, Phil?”

“Nice to meet you,” I replied, my nerves making my hand shoot out into ‘shaking’ position. It just hovered there for a moment, then I let it drop consciously. There was a commotion from behind us, and a boy and a girl entered ahead of the teacher, arguing strongly about a plie, and the exact angle at which to point your toes…

The teacher smiled as they babbled on, twisting her dark hair into a neater bun and waving the others away from the piano.

“Thank you Laura,” she said, as the girl rounded her piece to a quiet close.

“Answer your names please,” she said, waving the sheet from the bulletin board, “Georgiana?”

“Yes,” called the girl who’d just waltzed in.

“Nathaniel?”

“Yes.”

The boy Georgiana had walked in with answered; I guessed they’d signed up together. She continued through the list until she reached Jenn and I, who’d obviously signed up last.

Several of the piano-group looked up when they heard my name; the two girls, Laura and Katie, looked indifferent, if a little miffed, the three boys, Josh, Greg and Tom, looked interested. Which made me feel even smaller when I obviously didn’t measure up to their usual princess standard.

“It’s a pleasure to have you all,” she said, when I’d said my yes.

A brief explanation of what we’d be doing was chased by a practical demonstration of the waltz hold. The teacher, Miss Watson, put us into pairs, boy girl as far as possible, then came around and corrected our positions. Over-experience, which I’d thought would be a problem, (when you’re afraid of Mme Vennart appearing with her cane, you often find you aren’t able to pretend to be bad) turned into nothing when I had to take the man’s position for Jenn; our heights were such that it worked quite nicely. But it felt so odd!

“Meredith, you’d be marvelous if you were playing the woman!” Miss Watson cried when she came round, “Sadly, you’re meant to be a man!”

I laughed at the irony of her statement.

“Thanks miss,” I replied.

Jenn seemed to enjoy herself three times as much as I did. We swapped partners halfway through, and she got put with Josh, one of the lads who already did dance; she took to it like…

A chip to tomato sauce?

The expression is a fish to water, dumb-ass.

I like ‘a chip to tomato sauce’ better.

*rolls eyes*

I swapped back to being female, and partnered Nathaniel, who was a little over-confident, but danced moderately better than most of the guys in the room. He informed me, none-to-quietly, that he’d been training in classical dance for 5 years now.

Pssh… 13 years over here matey.

Should we tell him?

Aw, don’t be cruel.

But I want to gloat!

Gloating is inelegant. And besides, it’s mean.

“Right!” called Miss Watson as it neared five according to the clock on the wall, “Would anyone like to show us their steps?”

We’d reached the basic, Oom-pah-pah, step which meant you could move around the room fairly elegantly. If nothing was in your way. Sadly, 7 other couples were hard to concentrate on when you were contesting for the how-many-feet-can-you-step-on-in-a-minute trophy.

Next to me, Nathaniel raised his hand proudly.

My eyes nearly bugged out.

“Marvellous!” Miss Watson cried, “Meredith, you were working with Nathaniel, weren’t you?”

Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m standing up.

Oh no…

“Come on, up, up, up!” she cried enthusiastically.

I gulped and got to my feet, casting a panicked look back at Jenn. She grimaced back.

Nathaniel took my waist, reminding me of the dance lesson in the fourth Harry Potter movie, and we waltzed a few steps backwards, forwards and sideways.

“Very nice! Anyone else?”

“Jo-osh, Jo-osh!” chanted Greg and Tom.

Miss Watson looked over at him expectantly. He rolled his eyes and tugged Jenn to her feet, making her blush bright pink.

“Definitely naturals!” Miss pronounced when they sat back down, “Right, that’s it, you can go! Back here next week, same time, same place.”

We filtered out through the doorway, the piano group staying behind to practice performance work. Jenn giggled as Josh blew her a kiss.

“Can I give you a lift somewhere?” I asked.

“No, I’m walking,” she said, “thanks though. I didn’t know you could drive.”

“Oh, I can’t,” I said hurriedly, “Jade’s coming to pick me up.”

“Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow,” she waved goodbye.

I hopped into the car as Jade pulled up in front of the college.

“Hey,” she said, as I hopped into the front seat.

“Hey,” I replied.

“Hey,” said a third voice, giving me a heart attack.