Chapter One: It All Begins

Welcome ladies and gentleman. This story started with a bet I made to my good friend Melanie; if you ever meet her, do NOT make a bet! This story and the plot are mine though.

Disclaimer: I own Helen Hendricks and her friends and family. Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer.

Everything in the universe has rhythm. Everything dances –Maya Angelou.

Helen awoke to the familiar sound of a buzz from her yellow, smiley faced alarm clock.

She lazily opened her eyes and glanced over, 'an 8:00 a.m. alarm on a Saturday, damn, I really am turning into my Dad.'

Her half-asleep mind hit the snooze button, and then five; maybe ten minutes later, she shot up out of bed and realized why she had set her alarm so early.

'Oh crap!'

Helen raced down the stairs and ran into the kitchen where her Dad and Wesley were making themselves breakfast.

"Hey Nellie," Wesley, her older brother said with a smile, "you're up early."

"Hi Wes," she said as she passed by and examined the eggs he was cooking which made her mouth water as the tempting smell filled her senses.

"Something wrong? Do we need the egg police?" He asked while noticing her face near the frying pan.

"Just making sure you're doing it right, Wes," she replied with a grin as she backed away toward the kitchen table.

Her father, Richard, had just sat down; he was reading the paper and was drinking his coffee. His medium brown hair was combed and neat and he was wearing his fancy lawyer suit.

"Morning Dad."

"Morning Flapjack," he replied while looking up, "why are you up so early?"

Helen gave him a snarky look, "Wesley is up early."

"Wesley has to go work, right son?" He called over.

"Right Dad." Wesley said with an exhausted and rough tone. Last year, Wes had borrowed their Dad's Bentley and 'accidently' got it totaled. Now he was working off every penny at Nemo's.

"Now," her Dad brought his attention back to her, "why are you up so early, summer breaks not over for two more weeks?"

"Dad, you brought the paper in, you should know why." She said matter-of-factly.

Her father raised an eyebrow, panic and adrenaline entered.

"You brought in the paper, but you didn't get the mail?!"

Helen ran towards the door and opened the door, not caring that she slammed it a little bit, not caring that she was running down the block in a creamy yellow tank top and pinstriped light pink pajama bottoms.

All that mattered to her was getting her answer.

"Alright, let me take over, this is my story after all. Hello, that's me with the curly ginger hair, baby blue eyes, fair skin and freckles, Helen Hendricks. I'm fourteen years old and I live with my Dad and my two brothers, Wesley and Henry. You'll meet Henry later on; he's my little ten year old twerp. Wesley's my eighteen year old cool, lovable, laidback brother.

"Our mother left us when Henry was six months old, she's a crazy and critical old French bat that lives in Europe and sends us cards on our birthdays and cares more for my brothers than me. Something about 'avoir une bouche futée' (having a smart mouth).

"Back, to the story, I'm a dancer. A ballerina, at least I want to be. Dancing has always made me feel comfortable, like I belonged to something. That's why three weeks ago, my best friends Sydney, Aggie and I auditioned for the St. Louis Academy of Dance.

"It's the best dance school in the state of Missouri and is ranked number six on the top ten dance schools in the country.

"I've been dancing since I was three; I went en pointe almost four years ago.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I'm taking so long to narrate as I run. Our house is pretty much in the woods, it was left to us by my great uncle Boris. It's really old and so that's why it's in the middle of nowhere. That's also why my Dad almost always brings in the mail with the paper. He works at this big fancy law firm and practices criminal law, he's the DA for the sex crimes unit so it almost seems like I live an episode of SVU when I'm around him.

"There I go, straying from my own story again, before you, the reader get too confused and go 'what the hell is going on?' Let me explain. Every once in awhile I might narrate this story, so it might transition from third to first.

"Like right now."

Helen reached the mailbox near the edge of the road and the forest out of breath and hunched over.

She caught her breath as quickly as possible, and opened the rust colored mailbox.

Inside were several white letters, bills maybe, and one single vanilla packet. Helen fished the envelopes out.

Just as she assumed, gas bill, electricity bill, and finally the packet which held the return address of the St. Louis Academy of Dance.

Helen Louise Hendricks

Number 1 Edeline Grove

St. Louis, Missouri

61303

Helen inhaled deeply; she knew that this was her life changing moment. As cheesy as it sounded, this packet would pretty much change her life.

Her heart throbbed as she opened it, and she examined its contents. A white letter and magazine like book. She fished out the letter and closed her eyes before reading it; with a final breath she read the letter.

Dear Miss. Hendricks,

We are pleased to inform you that your application and audition for the St. Louis Academy of Dance has been accepted. Enclosed you will find an information packet and we hope to see you on the first day of the semester which will begin on Tuesday, August 3oth.

Sincerely,

SLAD Board of Administration

A smile formed on Helen's face.

"I…got…in. I got in. I GOT IN!"

She raced back down the road not minding the heat that the road was radiating or that she was once again running around in her pajamas. No, all that mattered to her was getting back into the house to show off her acceptance letter.

"Dad! Wesley! Henry! I did it!" She shouted while running back inside the house. Helen ran straight into the kitchen and almost collided with Wesley who held a plate full of eggs and bacon.

"Do not make me drop this!" He huffed, "it will burn your little ballerina ass off."

"Wesley Joseph," her father warned.

"She's almost fifteen, Dad."

Helen rose up her hands as to ease the tension, "Shut up, guys! Okay? This is a happy time."

"Do we not have any bills?" Her father asked before taking a sip of coffee.

"Did I somehow come into a thousand dollars?" Wesley snorted.

"No!" Helen shouted in exhaustion, "You are now looking at one of the newest first year students for the St. Louis Academy of Dance."

Her Dad and Wesley both widened their eyes.

"Nells, you got in?" Wes said in an excited voice

"Wow." Her Dad said in a shocked voice

Helen's face grew into a sad and somewhat pissed off look, "did you think I wasn't?"

"No," her Dad assured her, "it's just, I knew you were good, but I didn't think you were SLAD good."

"I had complete faith in you," Wesley said while pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

"You know what," her father stated, "I'm proud of you. So what do we have to get you for this school?"

Helen pulled the information packet out of the envelope and handed it to her father. Richard Hendricks placed the newspaper down on the table and examined the packet.

"Alright, we have to take you to your studio to get you the first year leotard and equipment. You'll also need…textbooks?"

"It's kind of like high school, Dad; only for dancers." Helen said with a nervous smile.

"You didn't tell me that when I let you audition," her father said sternly.

"You would've said 'no'," Helen replied sharply.

"Sweetie, you need an education."

"I'll be getting one!" Helen reminded him, "but I'll be dancing, which I think you would know is my life."

"Alright, alright," her father surrendered, "but grades come first."

"Absolutely," Helen assured him, "Aggie is already booking study weekends for us."

"If you all get in," Wesley commented.

"When we all get in," Helen corrected confidently.

"Okay, Helen you go upstairs and get ready," her father interrupted to stop the fighting, "Wesley, you clean up."

"What?!" Wesley said in a shocked voice.

"Thank you Wessy," Helen said happily while going up the stairs.

"Oh save it!" He shouted back.

Helen threw on a floral pink, purple, and red skirt that stopped slightly above the knee, with a black stretchy waist belt, a grey v-neck shirt, and a simple pair of blue TOMS. She brushed her fiery, curly locks, and cleaned up the rest of her room.

Helen's room was a mixture of classical and contemporary. Her walls were white and adorned with posters of dancers such as Anna Pavlova, Ginger Rogers, Bob Fosse, and some of her favorite ballets: The Nutcracker, Don Quioxte, La Slyphide, and The Red Shoes.

Her bed was a standard queen with a brass frame. White pillows, soft green sheets, and a quilt her grandmother had made were neatly secure on the mattress. The floor was a white wood and her window was a very old circular stained glass of a swan.

Her dresser was a pale white with brass knobs, and there was a single oval, floor length mirror next to it.

Helen examined herself in the mirror one last time. Her face was heart shaped and her curly red hair framed it well. Her skin was fair and a splatter of freckles were mostly on her nose and cheeks. Her eyes were large and baby blue, and her lips seemed almost too full for her age.

What Helen was grateful for was that she had almost the perfect body for dancing, her limbs were thin but showed muscle, not alot, but noticable. Her abdomen was flat and muscular, her head was slightly small and her neck wasn't too thin.

But she inherited the red haired female curse, big breasts.

Most girls wanted them, but Helen was a dancer, and her breasts were almost too big by professional standards.

Helen brushed some strands of hair out of her face and straightened out her shirt.

"What are you doing?" She jumped and saw Henry standing their in the doorway. Henry looked a lot like her Dad and Wesley, medium brown hair, light skin, and square jawline. However, Henry had baby blue eyes just like Helen, just like their...mother.

"I'm going out," she snorted, "why do you care?"

"It's eight-forty-five," he said matter-of-factly, "on a Saturday."

"I got in to the Academy," Helen replied sumgly.

Henry gave her a puzzled look.

"The St. Louis Academy of Dance," she finished while rolling her eyes.

"Oh," he said, "that dumb school where you learn how to twirl around like an idiot."

Helen snorted and rolled her eyes, she then grabbed her purse and her hot pink mini-duffel bag and flung it over her shoulder. She walked out the room but not before deliberatly walking over Henry's toes.

"I thought ballerina's were graceful," he remarked snidely.

Helen the preceded to lay her bags on the floor and went on the pointes of her toes while doing a very high arabesque extension. Not even so much as breaking her line.

"We are," she smirked and then slowly lowered her extension and went into first position and picked up her two bags; then she skipped down the hall and trotted down the stairs.

Helen placed her two bags on the dining room table when she heard her Samsung Galaxy S III go off to the Glee version of Lady Gaga's Telephone.

'Must be Syd or Aggs.'

"Hello?" She answered.

"I GOT IN!" She heard the squeal of her best friend Sydney O'dell.

"You did?!" Helen said excitely, "that's great!"

"I know, and of course so did you," Sydney replied happily.

"Yep," Helen confirmed, "any word from Aggs?"

"No," Sydney said sadly, "do you think if she gets in her parents will let her go?"

While Sydney and Helen's families were supportive of their dreams of becoming professionals, Aggie's weren't. Mr. and Mrs. Becker were both snooty and uptight rich doctors who wanted their daughter to pursue a similar career in either cardiology or orthopediatry; and lately, the Becker's were starting to get impatient with Aggie's need to dance.

"We'll stage a proposal," Helen assured.

Her phone buzzed again, she knew it was definately Aggie this time. Helen set her phone to conference mode.

"Aggs, what's up?" Helen asked.

"I got in," Aggie replied modestly.

"Knew it," said Sydney, "what did the docs say?"

Aggie paused and then replied, "They said they'll think about it."

"So no?" Helen snorted.

"I'm sorry guys," Aggie said with a shaky voice.

"Syd, you up for a road trip?" Helen asked.

"Aggs, we'll be at your house in fifteen," Sydney finished.

The three girls hung up their phones, and Helen marched into the kitchen and saw her father getting ready to leave."Dad, change of plans," Helen stated bodly, "Syd and I have to go to Aggie's house to convince her folks to let her go to SLAD."

"Flapjack," her father said in an exhausted tone, "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Dad," Helen warned, "drive me or don't, but either way I'm going to Aggie's."

Her father rolled her eyes and shrugged his shoulders, "Alright, get in the car."

"Thank you, Daddy," Helen said with a smile. She dashed back into the dining room and grabbed her things, went to the garage and climbed in her Dad's CTS-V Cadillac.

"Don't worry Dad." Helen assured as they were on the road, "next year when Sydney and I have to go talk to Aggie's parents so that she can come back for second year, I'll be abe to drive myself."

"What?" Her father said in a shocked voice, "no, you're not driving, ever. I've lived the adventure of what happens when one of my kids gets behind the wheel of a car."

"Dad," Helen said in a snarky voice, "you really need to let that go. Wesley's already been through his own hell with the insurance company."

"I don't care, that was your great uncle Boris's Bentley."

"For an old man, he sure did have good taste in cars." Helen replied, "especially modern ones."

They then pulled into the driveway of the Becker family.

"As I said before, the Becker's were very wealthy. Their house wasn't old like mine, there's was bulit almost three years ago. It was a big, classy mansion, in a gated, private neighborhood filled with rich and snooty people. I know that you think I'm a hypocrite because my Dad owned a Bentley, and now he own's a Cadillac. My Dad's good at his job, his conviction rate is ninety-two percent. That's where our money come's from, but my father loves to save money. Our house was in pretty bad condition when we got it from Uncle Boris's will, almost ten thousand dollars were put in to get everything fixed. Don't get me wrong, my Dad makes enough to spend on ballet stuff for me or vacations for our family."

"Alright," Helen said as she was about to get out of the car, "Syd, Aggie and I will probably go shopping later or something, that is if we can convince the Becker's to let Aggie go."

"You mean when you convince them," her dad replied with a smile.

"Well look at that, we are related."

"Maybe by marriage or something," he smirked, "but, Flapjack I want you to be respectful to the Becker's, okay?"

"I know, Dad," Helen replied in a whiny tone.

"Alright, I love you."

"Love you too, Dad," Helen said as she exited the car. Moments later, Sydney came rushing out the front door. Sydney O'dell had medium length, wavy light blonde hair, turquoise eyes, and light skin. Out of their frienship group, Syd was the best at Hip-hop and the worst at ballet, which was due to the fact that while Helen and Aggie had natural ability and physical factors, Sydney had none.

But Syd was the best friend anybody could ever have, she was an upbeat, bright eyed, and kind person.

"Helen!" She shouted as she grabbed the fiery haired girl's arm, "hurry!"

Helen chased after Sydney, both of them hurrying back inside the Becker house. Helen threw her bags down by the door and rushed into the sitting room with Sydney, slowly stopping and skidding on her feet as they entered the room. There, on the middle of the couch was Aggie. Aggie was easily the smartest of their group so she kept herself calm. Aggie had straight dark brown hair, tawny skin, and hazel eyes. Aggie looked around to the futon where her mother sat, cross legged and confident while drinking a sidecar. Her father was behind the couch staring them down.

"Dr. and Dr. Becker," Helen stated sharply, "you really should consider letting Aggie go to the St. Louis Academy of Dance."

"Your audacity is appalling, Helen," Aggie's mother said with a thin-lipped smile, "we welcome you into our home and you start telling us how to care for our child, assuming you know her better then we do."

"I'm not saying that," Helen said while keeping herself under control. "But you know why Sydney and I are here, and we feel like you should strongly consider this as an option for Aggie."

"Agatha," her mother said sharply, "do you agree with them?"

"Yes, mother," Aggie replied just as sharp, "I would really appreciate it if you and father would let me attend this school."

Her father snorted, "so we're supposed to just watch as you throw your education away, just so you can fritter around, dancing?"

"Her education won't be thrown away," Sydney chimed in, "this school has one of the best science programs in the country."

"Also," Helen finished, "a lot of Ivy League schools look at schools like this, they like it if you have a background of consistency with a particular thing."

Aggie's parents remained still but exchanged looks with each other, "as long as you stay top of the year in everything academics wise," her mother shrugged, "I don't see why not."

Sydney squealed and was then quickly shushed by Helen, Aggie stood up and faced both of her parents, "thank you very much, guys."

"Well," her father stated with a small smile, "the information packet says that you girls need supplies," Dr. Becker continued, "Sydney, Helen, would you like to accompany Agatha?"

"Sure," Helen and Sydney replied.

Flora Fletcher's Studio was where the girls had been learning ballet for the past twelve years, and it was also where the St. Louis Academy of Dance had students pick up their supplies.

"So cute!" Syney squealed as she saw the leotard that had selected for first years.

The leotard was scoop neck and teal colored, each leotard had a different style to be worn for each season, Fall: Sleevless, Winter: Long sleeved, Spring/Summer: Spaghetti Strapped. Girls also had to wear white or pale pink dance tights, and were allowed to have leg warmers, bun covers or headbands as far as accesories went.

"It's a great color," Helen remarked as she held up her leotard while the three girls were busy looking for the rest of supplies.

"According to this, we'll need to wear jazz pants for Contemporary as well as Jazz," Aggie said while reading the list, "Hip-hop is just basic workout clothes, and character is just a standard character skirt with a leotard and character shoes."

"Well look what the cat dragged on."

Helen and her friends knew that sickly sweet and condescending voice anywhere, Allie Alexander.

"Allie," Helen snorted.

"Helen," she acknowledged with a sneer, "Geek, Fat girl."

"Shut up, bitch!"

Allie Alexander was Helen's main rival and possibly her worst enemy, she had a body that a dancer would kill for, not to mention she was drop dead gorgeous. She had medium brown, waist length, wavy hair, blue-grey eyes, and light skin. Her technique was impeccable and she was probably the best dancer from their studio, but what she had in technique she lacked in artistic ability.

Allie and Helen actually used to be good friends, but then something happened that made Helen realize how horrible Allie was. Last year, Sydney's parents had gotten divorced and she had started eating and gaining weight to cope with the emotional stress, and when Allie started making snide remarks about it, Helen drew the line and ended their friendship.

"Oh, is that harsh tongue of your's really necessary, Helen?"

"What are you doing here, Allie?" Helen snapped.

"I'm picking up my supplies for first year at SLAD," Allie smirked.

"Don't tell us that you were let in, Allie," Sydney said snidely.

"Yeah, jealous of something else now?" She replied.

"Oh great," Aggie said with an exhausted look, "now we have to suffer."

"Wait," Allie said with a dumbfounded look, "don't tell me that the board is so desperate they let you in?"

The three girls remained silent while Allie broke into a fit of giggles.

"Oh how rich!" She laughed, "I get to spend my year being the best and watching you losers fail!"

"Maybe you'll be the one at the bottom for a change," Sydney said while giving her a look.

"Don't even bother O'dell," Allie scoffed, "you two will be lucky if you make it through the semester."

Allie stared Helen down, "Hendricks, do me a favor, I'll be needing competition if I want to make it to the top. So if we're going to be competing I need you at your best. So if we're no longer friends then you should at least ditch those wannabees and actually be focused for once, because you're the only one who can actually beat me in one or two categories."

"Piss off, Allie," Helen sneered.

Allie glared back at her, "Fine, it'll be much more entertaining to watch you fall." And with that, Allie Alexander stormed off to a different part of the store.

"C'mon guys," Helen said while turning back to her friends, "let's pay for our stuff and go get lunch or something."

"Okay," Sydney said while they took a seat at Nemo's, "Is it just me, or did Allie seem to expect Helen being at the Acadmey?"

"It's actually not that shocking," Aggie replied, "Helen is the most artistically talented student in our studio and maybe at the entire academy, she puts her entire being in every step and pirouette, right Helen?"

"Helen?" Sydney replied as Helen was daydreaming out the window. "Huh?" Helen replied

"Don't you think that Allie sort of expected you to be at the Academy?" Sydney asked again.

"No," Helen replied nonchalantly, "I think she's an uptight bitch who needs to realize that the two of you are just as capable of beating her at something."

"Afternoon ladies," Wesley said with a smile as he walked over their table to wait on them, "what're you in the mood for?"

"Wesley," Sydney asked,"do you think Allie Alexander is an uptight bitch?"

Aggie snickered while Helen rolled her eyes and shot Sydney a look.

"Blondie, stick to the menu," Wesley replied.

"Wes, I'll take the popcorn shrimp basket and a coke," Helen said in an exhausted voice.

"I'll have a medium rare hamburger with lettuce and tomato and a coke," said Aggie.

"I'll have a caeser salad and a strawberry milkshake," Syd said happily. Wesley then wrote down their order and left.

"Syd," Aggie said sharply, "you don't get salads at Nemo's!"

"Yeah," Helen agreed, "I'm a vegetarian and I'm smart enough not to know that! The salad will kill you!"

"You ordered fish," Aggie snapped.

"Fish isn't meat, Aggs," Helen said with a glare.

After days of waiting, Tuesday morning arrived with a sunny sky and an extra awake Helen. At what seemed like the crack of dawn, Helen made her Dad drive down to the Academy. A big, fancy white building with lush grass and a pavillion near a hill.

"Just think," Helen said while barely able to control her excitement, "this is the starting point of my career."

"Okay, Flapjack," her father said with a proud look, "now, I know you think that this is where everything will start to fall into place for you life. Just try to be a teenager though."

"I will Daddy," Helen said as she got out of the car, "Love you, bye."

She raced towards the front of the building and opened th door, everything about this place filled her with excitement. In the middle of the hall was a Spanish woman pointing down the hall.

"First years get your schedules and then precede to your first class!" She shouted. Helen raced past her and ignored her cries telling her to slow down and then she bumped into a tall boy with black hair and glasses.

"I am so sorry!" Helen shouted as she helped him up.

"It's fine," he assured with a smile, "I'm Arthur Desmond III, but my friends call me 'Des'," the boy, Des, said.

"I'm Helen Hendricks," Helen replied while shaking his hand, "so are you a first year too?"

"Yeah," he said with a grin, "finally convinced my Dad to let me come. Well I gotta go change, it was nice meeting you though, Helen." Des then walked off to what Helen assumed was the direction to the boys changing rooms.

Helen now started to slowly walk towards down the hall and to the lady near the desk.

"Name," she stated in a dry voice.

"Helen Hendricks."

She typed something into a computer and then printed something out, after giving it a stamp for attendence she spoke, "Change ad then head to your first class, next!"

Helen walked away and looked at her schedule.

Hendricks, Helen L.

1. Repertoire

2. Jazz/Contemporary

3. Pas des deux

4. Character

5. World History

6. Algebra I

7. Biology

8. English I

9. Hip-hop

"Wow, nine classes in eight and a half hours."

Helen headed down the hall and towards the right for the girl's dressing rooms. Inside were a few first years, and the girls wearing the violet leotards were what she was guessing to be the second years.

She found a space to set her stuff by and quickly changed into her teal leotard, teal wrap skirt, tights, lavender knit leg warmers and pointe shoes. Her hair was then styled into a perfect ballet bun with her lucky lavender bun cover.

'It's showtime.'

Helen walked into the ballet studio for Repertoire. The room was very large and white, the walls were white, the floor was white and the barres were a beige color. The only colorful thing in the room were the posters of famous ballerinas that had probably graduated from the academy.

Helen saw other girls and boys starting to come into the room, and walked over to Sydney and Aggie when she saw them, and she was horrified when she saw that Allie Alexander was already warming up to the instructors.

"Yeah Allie," Sydney whispered as they walked to the barre, "ham it up, I bet the teachers can see right through you."

"Welcome everyone," the instructor was none other than the Spanish woman whom Helen had rushed by this morning, "I'm Ramona Vasquez, and I'll be teaching Repertoire for the girls, my friend Zack Evans," she motioned to the male instructor, "will be teaching the boys."

"Before we begin, I'd like you all to take note of something, right now your friends are now having regular teenage lives, while you have all chosen a different path. Today you will all be assesed in your classes and will be informed at the end of the week as to where you rank. Your rank might as well determine your place at this school."

Zach Evans then preceded to speak, "Boys, come with me, girls you will stay in here with Ramona." The boys then followed Zack out of the room, most of them talking in whispers or shoving each other.

"Alright," Ramona said in a tone similar to Allie's, "Battements at the barre, front-side-back, side-front-back. Don't forget to breathe."

Helen and the class rushed to get spots on the barre. Allie was in front as usual, followed by Helen, Sydney, and Aggie. Helen did count will Ramona started the music, there were only twelve girls in the class.

As the girls started warming up, Ramona walked past them to evaluate them, "good, good," she said while examining Allie, "Alison isn't it?"

"Yes ma'am," Allie replied with a smug smile.

Ramona then looked at Helen with a small smile, "Beautiful lines, Helen," causing Helen to blush slightly.

Sydney and Aggie were both given a stern but approving glance while Ramona walked past them.

After the class finished warming up, Ramona had line up for across the floor.

"Chaines turns in groups of three," she said while the girls all quickly lined up.

"Oh no," Sydney said in a worried voice, "I suck at chaines turns."

"Just don't forget to spot, and focus on your lines," Helen assured her.

The first group was unsurprisingly: Allie, Helen, and Sydney. Helen calmed herself down and focused on her spot, hoping that Syd wouldn't mess up. The counted to the music and begun, and they didn't even make it to halfway across the floor when Ramona had to walk with Sydney's pace and clap out the counts for her.

While Allie and Helen reached the otherside, Ramona got steamed at Sydney.

"Alison!" She called, "show O'dell how to do it properly!"

Helen shot Allie's smug grin the evil eye. It wasn't even the end of class and Allie was already recieving all the praise. She then watched nervously as Allie preceded to condescendingly correct Sydney.

They left class while being told to know the solo from The Ugly Duckling for tomorrow.

Other than the mishap in Repertoire, the three girls did manage to have a pretty good first day, Helen was very smug when in Hip-hop, Sydney was called to the center front while Allie was corrected for having too stiff of an upperbody. Aggie was the best in Jazz as usual and knew everything in their acadmeic subjects, also as usual. Helen was surprised when in Pas des deux she was partnered with Des, the boy she ran into earlier, and Contemporary was one of her favorite classes because the teacher praised her artistic ability.

The girls were actually a bit sad at the end of the day when they had to change back into their regualr clothes.

"Other than Repertoire," Sydney said happily, "I actually had a good day today."

"Yeah," Aggie assured her, "Jazz was the best."

"I just can't believe we get to do this every day now," Helen said with a smile.

"Don't make your little friends too comfortable, Helen," Allie said with a smirk, "if Fatty cake over there keeps it up, she won't make it past the semester."

"Have you ever enjoyed being bitch-slapped with a pointe shoe?" Helen warned.

"Why don't you try it and see what happens?" Allie dared with a sneer.

"Just shup, Allie," Aggie said with a sharp tone like her mother's, "you're just jealous because Syd and I have a chance of beating you at something for once."

"Oh, please," Allie scoffed, "the only reason you're good at Jazz is because of your background."

The whole dressing room then went silent, "What did you just say?" Aggie said with a deep tone of hurt.

"Jazz is natural for you because it's apart of your history," Allie stated.

"Take that back, bitch," Helen spat while holding a pointe shoe as a warning.

"I'm just calling it like it is," Allie tried to innocently, "it's her ethnicity, righ-"

Without even thinking, Helen rose her shoe up and smacked Allie's nose with it. Allie was then hunched over, her nose dripping with blood.

"Make another remark like that," Helen warned, "and I'll take your whole nose off, Alexander."

In one week's time, results were posted upon down the hall near the changing rooms. Helen had also not been placed into detention with help from her Dad's threat at a lawsuit, and Allie had been told to attend time with the guidance counselor, lost all favor with Ramona, and had been given three weeks of detention.

Classical Ballet: FIRST YEAR

1. ALEXANDER, Alison

2. HENDRICKS, Helen

3. VERMILLION, Grace

4. MARTIN, Lana

5. BECKER, Agatha

6. EDWARDS, Hanna

7. WALTON, Dana

8. DILLARD, Meghan

9. BARTON, Natasha

10. LEWIS, Clare

11. RICKONS, Maya

12. O'DELL, Sydney

"Ha!" Allie laughed upon seeing the list, "I knew I'd be the best in Classical!" She walked away while her new minions, Lana and Grace stormed after her.

Helen looked at Syd, expecting to see a look of despair, but instead she seemed fine, "the great thing about this, is that it means I know that I can improve more."

"Well I'm number one in Jazz, Helen's is Contemporary, Syd is best in Hip-hop, and Allie is the worst in Hip-hop," Aggie said while finishing up reading the list.

All three of the girls felt a strong sense of satisfaction as they realized that Allie had been placed the worst in something.

"Miss Hendricks," Helen turned around to see a old looking man with a combover, "I'm Mr. Pruitt, I'm the Principal. I need to see you for a moment."

Helen nodded and followed him toward his office, while her friends gave her a worried look.

"Is there a problem, sir?" Helen asked nervously.

Mr. Pruitt gave her a smile as they walked towards his office, "not at all, you've be selected."

"B-by a patron?!" Helen asked, dazed.

A new event for the Academy was for patrons to select students to sponser. It allowed someone to pay for all necessary fundings, have private meetings with the, and allowed the patron to watch classes.

"Right in here," Mr. Pruitt motioned to the door.

Helen gulped and opened the door. A single man was sitting elegantly in the Principal's chair, legs crossed and looked very pleased. He stood up, a cheery smile on his face as he came to greet me. He looked five-foot-ten, average bulid, nothing new at first, but then he seemed almost God-like in appearence, as if somebody had sculpted his features. His hair was jet black and long, his skin was translucent, almost like onionskin. What seemed off were his red eyes, Helen was undecided if she wanted them to real or fake, and in a sickening way, she felt pulled to him.

"Hello, my dear," He said in a cheery and polite voice, "my name is Aro."

HAPPY NEW YEAR! I hope you all like this chapter!

R&R