He picked up his iPod from under his pillow, where he had put it the night before, and put in the earbuds. Sitting back down on the bed, he scrolled through his playlists. There it is, he thought, clicking on “wake.” He mouthed the words to “Night Train” for the millionth time, laughing at his reflection in the mirror. Axl Rose I am not, he thought as he picked out his clothes.
As he ate his cereal, he listened to Keiko argue with Mr. Yu. “If you want skim milk, I’m not going to waste my money,” said Mr. Yu. “You want skim milk, take this milk, put water in. There, skim milk.”
Julian wished that there was someone in his homestay who went to school with him. But they had all graduated (or, in Keiko’s case, had opted out of senior school, only graduating from middle school in Japan), and were in the youth company at the academy. As he waited for the bus, Julian shivered. Going to school at 6:30 in the morning sucked, but it was the only way to get enough credits to graduate while going to the academy every day. You could have done a distance course, he told himself reproachfully. But no way would that would have gotten done. He began kicking a rock from one foot to the other, distracting himself from the cold and his boredom. “Aaand Beckham goes for the net,” he said under his breath, attempting to hit the bus-stop pole. He missed and the rock shot into the street, where it was run over. Julian looked at it sadly. “Sorry, old fellow,” he whispered, placing his hand on his heart. He looked up the street. The bus was coming.
As Tristan and Julian walked out of school, Julian couldn’t stop laughing. “Did you see Ms. Mullen’s face?”
“Yeah, but she still didn’t give you any marks for it!” Tristan said, laughing at him.
“Oh, who cares!”
“Oh no, there’s the bus! We’ve missed it …”
“No, we haven’t,” Julian said, breaking into a run. “Come on, hurry!”
“We are so not going to make it.” Tristan started running anyway. The bus driver waited for them patiently. They were out of breath as they got on the bus.
“Thanks,” Julian said, smiling at the bus driver.
“Come on, we can sit here,” Tristan called impatiently. “Oh, did you know we have rehearsal today?”
“What?” Julian was confused. He sat down beside Tristan, and Alexandra moved over to make room for him. “I thought we didn’t have rehearsal until tomorrow? It’s always on Saturday, isn’t it?”
“No, we have rehearsal tonight, after class, for Rose and Sugarplum and Arabian leads, and Russian,” Alexandra explained. “No Dmitri yet, though, because they’d have to pay him. It’s leads and corps together that are rehearsing tomorrow.”
“Oh,” said Julian. “Are we going to have time to go home and get dinner?”
“No, there’s only an hour break,” Tristan answered as he wrestled his lunch out of his backpack. “We can go get sushi, though. There’s a really good place right next to the academy.”
“Cool.”
“Do you want to come with us, Lexi?” Tristan asked casually.
“Um, I’ll see okay?” Alexandra answered. “I think I might be going to get dinner with Grace. But I really want sushi, so maybe I’ll come with you anyway.” She shot a glance to the front of the bus, where Anna and Grace were sitting together. She took her juice box out and jabbed the straw in violently.
“Okay, cool,” Tristan said, making an effort not to look at her.
“Hey, are you guys going to get sushi later?” asked Taylor from the seat in the corner. Julian looked up, surprised.
“Yeah, wanna come?” he asked. Tristan kicked him.
“Where’s Kaitlyn?” Tristan asked Taylor pointedly.
“Oh, she’s sick,” said Taylor happily. “She phoned me last night and asked me to tell everyone that she can’t come in today because she’s, like, sick. I would really like to come. I love sushi.” She smiled brightly at Julian. Tristan groaned and sank into his seat, sprawling his legs into the aisle. Alexandra ignored them and concentrated on her juice box.
As they went into the changing room, Tristan punched Julian on the shoulder. “Ow, what was that for?”
“Getting in touch with my ‘masculine side.’ Why did you have to invite Taylor?” He rummaged through his locker for a clean shirt, picked one up, and smelled it. “Ugh!” he threw it back in and tried another. “I mean, she’s so annoying. It would have been cool with just the three of us.”
“Oh,” said Julian. “Sorry. I didn’t know you didn’t like her. She just seemed like she really wanted to come.”
“Yes, that doesn’t mean you have to invite her!” said Tristan patiently. “And I didn’t say I disliked her. I just said that she was annoying.”
Kageki leisurely wandered into the changing room.
“Where were you?” Tristan asked.
“I missed the bus?”
“Do you—” started Julian.
“Jules, do you have an extra shirt?” Tristan asked quickly, cutting Julian off. Julian gave him an annoyed look.
“No!”
“That’s okay.” Tristan smiled sweetly.
Walking up the stairs, Julian whispered angrily to Tristan, “I thought you and Kageki were tight!”
“We are! That doesn’t mean that the whole school has to come with us. Try to hurry after class, okay? Maybe we can ‘accidentally’ forget that Taylor wanted to come.” Julian sighed.
Upstairs, all the girls were putting on their pointe shoes. “We have Mr. Moretti today, apparently,” Tristan said. “I am too tired for his class today.”
“I don’t like his class,” Julian said, putting his soft shoes on the wrong feet and trying again.
“You just don’t like him because of how he says your name,” Tristan laughed. “Juuuuliiiiiaaaan.”
“No, I just don’t like his class.” Julian was defensive. He was still annoyed at Tristan. He rolled into the middle splits and put his earbuds in.
Mr. Moretti came into the class without anyone realizing. He stood there for a few minutes, waiting to see if anyone would notice. As they continued to talk and stretch, he frowned and walked to the centre. “Children,” he said quietly. “Is this a coffee shop? Would you like some tea perhaps? Coffee? Possibly a cookie?” They quickly unplugged and started shedding layers of clothing. “Had a good lunch, baby?” he asked Angela, smiling sweetly at her. “It looks it.” He walked to the barre and began leading class. “One, two, in, point your footsies, babies!”
After class, Julian turned to Tristan. “Is it just me, or does Mr. Moretti totally creep you out?”
“Oh, it’s just Mr. Moretti,” Tristan shrugged. “I think he secretly wishes he could work for the CIA or be a
