Page 22 of Delilah In Discretion

I glanced over my shoulder to see three girls staring directly at me. Their faces grew red except for the girl in the middle, who still had a small scowl on her face. I smiled at them as I tilted my head and walked into the studio. I was used to these comments, and they didn’t faze me much. Their words could break you down if you don’t have the mental capacity for them.

Taking a spot on the floor, I started stretching, and weirdly enough, a few others in the class began following me. The door opened, and I looked over to see Madam Alexandrova coming in, not looking a day over sixty. I also noticed the large stick in her hand, which had most girls confused, but not me. They were unaware of her teaching methods, and I knew we wouldfinish the semester with nowhere near the number of students we started with.

“Good morning, students. I am Madam Alexandrova if you weren’t familiar, and this is the first class of ballet this semester. I know that many of you are not informed of your level or what class you should be in, so today, there will be an evaluation of how much you know. Try to keep up, but if you fall behind, I will ask you to take a seat. I assume you all are stretched and ready so we will first start with pirouettes. You will start with one turn, then two, three, four, and five,” she explained quickly, and we stood up and got into our positions.

The music started, and she banged her stick to the beat as we started on her counts. As we turned, I noticed a few of the students having trouble already and having to take a step back. After a few more evaluations, Madam A spoke, and her eyes gazed at me for a split second.

“We will now have a combination across the floor to see how quickly you pick up choreography, and our demonstrator will beDelilah.”

I deadpanned as she smiled at me, “Madam Alexandrova, if I may, I don’t think I should—”

“Nonsense, you already led half of the class earlier in stretching, so this won’t be a problem,” she interrupted, her smile staying plastered on her face.

“But I—”

She cut me off and banged her stick twice.“Tombe, pas de bourree, glissade, grand jeté. Tombe, pas de bourree, glissade, assemble,”she ordered, and almost like I was on autopilot, I started the combination and finished as some girls were stunned.

“Now, I will give you a few seconds to get that registered before I add the next part.”

I felt for some of these girls, as it was difficult to catch on to something like this quickly, but I couldn’t do much about it. Madam A had literally implanted these combinations and advanced learning skills into my brain ever since I was younger, so naturally, it just came to me.

Eventually, the class ended, and even though some girls didn’t make the cut, I still congratulated them for getting this far, which they had not expected me to do.

We all started getting ready to go, but Madam A called me into the studio for a minute. I walked into the room and crossed my arms.

“Nana, I thought I told you no favoritism.” She looked over at me in shock.

“Why, I have no idea what you’re referring to, dear,” she said cluelessly, and I scoffed.

“I told you when I was home for you to treat me like the other girls, and what do you do? Put me in front of the class like an exhibit!” I said, exasperated, and she sighed as she held her arms out for a hug. I reluctantly walked over and let her embrace me as she chuckled.

“Grandma’s sorry. I knew what I was doing, and I just wanted to show off my granddaughter.”

“I know, but what will the other girls think? I’m already having trouble fitting in. I don’t want more issues than necessary.”

“I’ll try—”

“I don’t want you to try. I want you to play fair.”

“But I already had a solo picked out for you and everything,” she said childishly, and I pulled away.

“That’s fine, but make sure all the other girls have a fair shot, too.”

She groaned and shooed me away. “Fine, now go on. I have another class to teach in fifteen minutes.”

I blew her a kiss as I went back to the locker room to prepare for my next lesson. I slipped out of my ballet attire and quickly showered before putting my uniform on again. While putting on my heels, I heard the door open and close. Thinking it was the students for the next class, I paid no mind to it as I brushed my hair out.

I heard slow footsteps, and eventually, they stopped.

“Hello, doll.”

I flinched at the voice that was right by my ear, and I turned to see Luca staring down at me.

I stuttered his name out at first, but coughed as I continued normally again. “L-Luca… You’re not supposed to be in here.”

“I beg to differ, love. There’s no sign on the wall that denotes that statement.”

“The words ‘Girls’ Locker Room’ should be enough indication as it is.”

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