They Call It Sleep Because You DONT Do It....

Ireland Rhodes, and her shiny white-blonde bun bounced as she did her last jump of the Allegro quiz
in her morning ballet class. The chilly Washington DC autumn was gloomy that day, and through the huge flawless windows of the dance studio you could see the drizzling rain hitting umbrellas and cars gently. The sky was a pale grey color, looming over the city. Ireland finished her last jump, and landed into a standard ballet pose, awaiting her score. She was the last one to be quizzed today, and all of the other girls had finished and were sitting Indian style on shiny hardwood floor, taking their shoes off and fiddling with various gadgets in their gym bags, inconspicuously.

Mr. Cardin clasped his hands together, and walked slowly over to Ireland. He placed his hand on her shoulder, and whispered softly “Ten. You did wonderfully today.” Ireland let out a breath and smiled. Mr. Cardin pranced over to the Ipod dock that was blasting Frou Frou’s “Let Go”, the song of the day. “Ladies, you all did a great job today, and it seems you have all improved, since the last quiz.” He peered over at the group of girls who were giggling and chatting inconsiderately, and raised an eyebrow. They knew what that meant. They immediately stopped talking. “With that being said, at the end of the week you have a quiz in which you’ll need a partner, so please find one and rehearse an original 45 second routine.” The duos of the class started squealing and holding each others’ hands suggesting that they had found their partners, but were unpleasantly shocked when Mr. Cardin interjected that they would need a male partner. “I know you’ve been clamoring to finally get a chance to work with each other. This isn’t that chance. You are dismissed.”

With those final words, the gals grabbed their gym bags and miscellaneous other items, and skipped out of class, groaning about having to find a male partner. Their Haviana clad feet clicking on the floor as they made their way down the stairway, some to go to the Fiji water dispenser, some to grab breakfast from the café, and some to head the dorm building across the street.

Ireland Rhodes, daughter of Kevin and Paul Rhodes the independent restaurant moguls, and same-sex married couple, stopped in the café where she walked over to her best friend and dorm mate Morgan. Morgan’s face was almost entirely covered by her oversized James Perse Cashmere blend hooded cardigan and her beautifully toned legs were propped up on the chair across from her.

“Morgan?” Ireland whispered, not wanting to wake her friend up too abruptly. Morgan didn’t budge. “MORGAN LUPE GUIZMAN!” Ireland screamed, jolting her friend out of her apparently deep sleep. “Hey girl!” Ireland sat down, non-chalantly in a chair next to her friend, and began munching on the half-eaten Banana muffin that she assumed was her friend’s.

Morgan took and sip of her already opened Red Bull and composed herself, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and removing the hood from her head.

“Was that really necessary, mannnnn?” Morgan asked. She sat up in her chair.

“Yeah, it was. Didn’t get any sleep, last night?” Ireland was still munching on the banana nut muffin.

“N-O. I was up all night, studying for a quiz that didn’t even happen. Who tells someone there will be a quiz, and doesn’t quiz them?” Morgan ranted, “That’s such a random thing to lie about.” She ran her hands over her thighs, her caramel skin was still perfect even under harsh cafeteria light and her eyes glistened in any situation.

“Miss Brown is an annoying woman. I thought you were going to drop her class, after that time that she made that phone call to your parents asking them to as you to not wear your hair in a ponytail because it distracted the people who sit behind you!” Ireland chuckled at the thought of some short kid straining to see the projector, behind Morgan’s super long ponytail.

“No. I need the credit. There’s no way I’m risking having to take summer classes.” Morgan shook her head furiously at the thought. “My 16th birthday would suck ridiculous amounts of ass if I had to spend half of the day in a musty class, with a musty teacher, doing musty schoolwork. Eff, that.”

“Well, you’re right, but you do know that there’s a quiz in Cardin’s class today?”

“NO.”

“Yeah.”

“On what?” Morgan inquired.

“Individual evaluation quiz on Allegro techniques.” Ireland stated, relaxed and assured in the fact that she’d just aced hers.

“Ohh, death. I want death! All of these quizzes, are just too much. I need a break!” Morgan faux-whined, tossing her arms in the air for effect.

“I have an idea, when you get out of your last class, text me and we’ll meet up downtown at Matchbox for an early dinner.” Ireland picked up the muffin she’d been picking at, and threw the strap of her American Apparel gym bag over her tiny shoulder. “Meanwhile, I only had one class today and I’m going to call my dads, shower, and go back to sleep. Love you. Thanks for the muffin!” Ireland winked at her best friend, and started to walk off, her spandex bodysuit hugging her lithe little frame.

“Oh, that’s not mine. That was here when I sat down.” Morgan giggled. “Have fun with that!” she started gathering her things and piling them into her oversized Balenciaga city bag. She watched as her friend spat out the piece of the muffin she was chewing, and threw the remaining muffin into the trash.

Morgan sauntered off to class, her attitude reading mysterious and alluring, catching the eye of the boys in leotards that were flocking into the cafeteria for greasy breakfast food, all discussing stories about how much they’d eat or how much they’ve eaten in the cafeteria before. Before she walked out of the door, Morgan heard one guy’s voice, “You’re pretty!” She looked back, and smiled at 3 guys who were pushing each other and looking back at her nervously giggling. She shot them a coy wink, and returned to walking out of the door.

Just what she needed to boost her spirits…adorable dancers, telling her she was pretty.




STAY TUNED.

All The Girls

Hey there internet world. This blog was created because I need a place to put my weekly mini-series that I would like to someday expand into a novel. Right now, I just want to ramble on and write aimlessly, hopefully it will take some sort of shape. If you like, you like. If you don't...I didn't make it for you.

This is just fun, for me.

There are the coolest girls of The Ballet Art Form school of Washington DC

Each week, hopefully, I'll bring you a peek into the lives of these girls. If I can't get it to you each week, you can be sure there was a good reason...like, I have a job! LOL

Let me know what you think.

-All The Girls