Bitter GreetingsMature

Narrator: Frederic 

"What the fuck is that?!" I head someone yell from behind. It seemed I didn't take enough measures of caution. I contemplated on whether it would be wiser to turn around, or keep forward. I turned around, and sighed deeply at who it was. 

"For God's sake Nate, get over it man. It's a fucking leotard that's what!" I retorted back at my best friend who was cracking up at the other end of the hallway. 

"It's a new one, eh Rick? Black seems a more manly color huh? Gosh, you're hilarious, my friend," Nate approached me and his arm was around my shoulder. He looked at me mockingly and I scowled. 

"Yeah, Nate. The royal blue didn't really work for me," I said sarcastically, "Dude, I gotta get back to class, so if you don't mind." I released myself from his grip. 

"Yeah, you do that. Ha, class... Well, I better get a move on too. You have fun!" Nate walked off to his drama room, as I made my way back to the movement studio. 

"And step! Come on, keep it relaxed." The teacher eyed me, and the students didn't stop moving as I joined in, unsure of where we were up to. 

"And five, six, seven, eight. Back to the turn..." I was surprisingly good at the turn. The glossy coated floor made it easier for my toes to spin around. To be perfectly honest, I liked the feeling of the whirlwind of the air that blew around me as it happened. It was refreshing, and the leotard didn't feel as tight. 

"And last one kids," the teacher announced over the music, as the sound of the instruments began to dim.

I got three of my fellow leotard wearing idiots to step in the other direction, including the plump one, Marlene. The final sequence ended and as always, she headed straight for her water. 

"Okay, we're going to have to fix up that last bit next time. It's a little sketchy, but it's coming along, I think," the teacher commented, her heels tapping as she walked over to the stereo. The beginning of the next track curtailed at her turning off the switch, and I looked anxiously at the clock on the mirror wall. The second hand was almost... Brrring. 

I dashed out of the room with my bag before the swarm of students could make it out of the other classrooms; it always took them an extra two minutes to pack up their books and such. The boys' changing room was empty. A forgotten towel was draped over a lost and found basket, a crinkled one dollar bill decorated the dull tile floor, and a white sock was by the far left sink. 

My leotard was a bother to take off, and it was extremely stubborn. It seemed to want to be my best friend, clinging to me with all the strength the material could muster. I stepped out of it, a cold zephyr brushing against my skin. I was soon back in my comfortable, simple cotton shirt and faded jeans. 

I sighed, and zipped my gym bag up as I proceeded out of the sweat and mix of deodorant smelling room. The cafeteria doors were getting closer, and I waited for an indication that Clarice was somewhere near. My head almost exploding in search of her much needed presence. 

Another student opened the doors, and I followed in. The smell of mashed potatoes, cheap chicken and steamed vegetables filled the air. However, the food did not interest me at all. 

Fucking hell, Rick. 

That was Clare. Besides her hostile greeting, it was relieving to be around her. Great to see you too, Clare. 

This new guy? He was fucking our sister. 

The End

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