Walking towards them was a girl, wearing the perfect mask of confidence and beauty that Elliot knew the girl always had. Her graceful posture and stance was the same of Ellie's, but only she can hold it without a fail of clumsiness.
Charlotte Goode was a close friend and whenever Elliot sees her, there's only calmness in her heart.
Her coffee brown hair was held mercilessly into a tight bun, no hair out of place. She was already dressed in a short-sleeved leotard with a wrap-over skirt over her tights and ballet slippers. Her olive skin shone under the hallway lights, projecting her high cheekbones.
Once she reached them, she immediately enveloped Elliot with a hug.
"Finally," Charlotte said after pulling away. "We were waiting for you."
Ellie giggled. "I blame Clark." She jabbed a thumb towards her best friend.
"What?" The boy protested.
"He took his time," Elliot continued as if he hadn't raised his voice. "I was rotten when he arrived."
"Really?" He raised an eyebrow. "This is the 'thanks' I get?"
"Kidding," She giggled and turned to him. "Will you be fine on your own?"
The boy gave her a toothy grin. "I know where I'm supposed to go."
Elliot stood on her toes and pressed her right cheek on Clarks. "Okay, I'll see you later."
At that, they bid their farewell and Clark left them alone.
Elliot then turned to Charlotte. "Shall we?"
She looped her arm on her friend's and together, they walked to the last room in the hall-the ballet studio.
Although there were still ten minutes before the bell rings, students were already there. They were dressed in comfortable leotard, tights––some in skirts––and ballet slippers. Elliot saw her classmates talking to each other whilst some of the others stretched.
A warm smile tugged at her lips.
Ellie had been three when she first entered the world of ballet. At first it was difficult. But after years of practice, she came to love it even with the pain it brought to her feet. It became her passion, her home. The only place where she could release tension and express herself without the judgment of others.
Just as she pushed herself through the door, she was enveloped by a bone-crushing hug.
"Iris," Elliot coughed out. "Can't breath."
"Oops," The other girl pulled away, her eyes now dancing with worry. "Sorry."
Iris Meyer was a girl with shoulder length, coppery hair that is now held by a tight bun. It made her pinkish skin free from any cover and exposed the freckles across her nose. Her speckled green eyes searched Elliot's apologetically, while her pink lips pulled up in a shy smile.
She was by far the bubbliest of all Elliot's friends. She knew when to make the situation light and plan their hangouts. Sometimes, Ellie would doubt that the girl was born ginger and not blonde like her.
"So," Iris said, following her to the ladies locker room. "Char's birthday is on Wednesday."
Ellie's hand hovered on her locker door, as she paused and turned to the other girl. "Gosh," she rested her forehead on her palm. "I still don't have a dress for the dance."
Iris suppressed her amusement. "I knew you'd forget. That's why we're going shopping after school."
Elliot nodded, closing her locker door and proceeding to one of the changing rooms. "Thanks, Iris. I'll tell Will to pick us up."
"What colour do you think will look great on me?" The other girl asked from outside the changing curtain.
"Green," Ellie replied after a beat. "Like your eyes."
For the next few minutes, she busied herself in changing her clothes to a leotard and tights. Iris tied her hair into a neat bun, while she tied the ribbon of her slippers. She returned to the studio to start her stretch on the Barres. Iris joined her.
By the time they were finished, the bell had rung and their instructor was already in the room.