Page 44 of Kingmakers, Year One

“I’m showering right here,” the girl declares, tossing her head so her blonde ponytail swings back over her shoulder. Dropping her arms from their protective stance across her chest, she snatches up the towel she dropped on the ground and marches over to the showers.

I stare at her back, trying hard not to let that turn into staring at her ass, then I pick up my own towel and follow after her.

She’s already standing undermyshower head, soaping up her hair with a hefty lather of shampoo. Ignoring her, I turn on a second nozzle and step under it before it’s even warm.

I scrub myself with equal vigor, and an equal attitude ofI don’t give a fuck.

The trouble is, it’s hard not to look over at the girl as soap suds run down her naked body. Her little breasts bounce on her chest as she shampoos her hair. I can’t stop thinking how slippery smooth her skin must be, remembering how her bare thigh slid between mine as my cock pressed against her flat, tight stomach.

I turn around and face the shower nozzle, so she won’t see my cock stiffening up all over again.

I’m only halfway through showering when I hear a sound that makes my blood run cold: the voices of two girls chatting and giggling as they stroll toward the showers.

I turn around right as they reach me.

The girls stop dead in their tracks. They look a little older than me, maybe Sophomores or Juniors. They’ve got towels wrapped round their bodies, and they’re wearing identical expressions of surprise and amusement.

“Well, hello,” one of them says to me.

“Are you lost?” the other asks.

Well, fuck. Guess the ballerina was right after all.

I grab my towel and hustle out of there without answering.

They don’t even wait till I turn the corner before bursting out laughing. Their giggles echo off the stone ceiling, reminding me what an idiot I am about a hundred times before I reach the door.

I draw a few more amused glances walking back to the dorms dressed only in a towel, with my duffle bag slung over my shoulder and my gym clothes tucked under my arm.

I’m embarrassed, but I can’t say I entirely regret the experience.

It definitely had its pleasant moments . . .

6

ANNA

Ican’t believe I’ve been at this school one day and I’ve already rubbed my naked body all over some stranger.

My face is still burning an hour after my shower.

I hope that fuckhead doesn’t go and tell all his friends—but I’m sure he will. He probably did the whole thing on purpose. I know he was watching me, and itwasthe girls’ room. That asshole.

It’s not how I wanted to start my first day of classes. I’m already running late. Though honestly, that’s mostly because I lost track of time dancing. They don’t offer dance classes at Kingmakers, and there’s no way I’m going to spend the next four years only dancing over the summers. I’ll practice on my own.

I don’t even see it as practice. I see it as a necessary part of my day, like eating, sleeping, and walking around. If I miss a few days, I feel stiff and anxious. My body and my brain feel neglected. I need dance to level out my emotions.

Maybe I’d better find a less public place to practice. I didn’t think anyone would be around that early in the morning. But I guess in a school this big, there’s always going to be someone around.

After changing into a fresh uniform, I head to the dining hall. I know Leo was just giving me shit, but the truth is that I do feel distinctly uncomfortable in the assigned clothes. What I wear is important to me. Not for other people, but for myself.

I like dark colors. I find them calming. I’m sensitive to busy patterns, loud noises, uncomfortable textures. And I hate wearing anything that clashes with my mood. Sometimes I want to feel like I’m in a dark fantasy dream. Sometimes I want to look like I’m a ghost from a graveyard, or a Victorian beggar. Sometimes I want to feel like a rockstar.

Never would I ever wear something fuzzy and pink. No shade on the girls that like it—it just isn’t me.

At least the uniforms are relatively subdued. Mostly shades of black, gray, and dark green, with a little silver or white. It could be a lot worse—imagine if the school colors were fluorescent orange and blue.

We can wear whatever shoes we like, so I didn’t have to give up my favorite boots. I paired them with the same green skirt from yesterday, a black pullover, and black tights. Not too bad—something I might possibly have worn in the normal world.

---