༺ TWO ༻

Ballet class had been amazing.

After the little embarrassing moment, Janson had actually been a perfect teacher. He indeed did have the looks of a rat and the tone he spoke at sounded a bit... ratty, but he was all I could ask for when it came to a teacher.

Despite my excitement, I still couldn't get Teresa's comment after the lesson out of my head. She'd been waiting for me outside, after I shared my enthusiasm with Janson because he wanted to know my opinions after he said I was a great ballerina, and whispered it in my ear like it was some creepy thriller.

There's a reason I'm leaving this place.

I'm not sure what it meant. I am sure that I'm rather gullible, which my sibling's pranks have proved, but not when it comes to ballet. With ballet, I know everything about it and can easily tell when a teacher is a good one or not.

Sadly, even with my acknowledgments, I'm not the perfect ballerina so I can't sass too much about it, but Janson was good.

If he takes a dark turn, I'll know when to quit taking lessons from 'sports'. Such a dumb name, by the way.

"How was ballet?" Dad asks, the warm carrots almost falling out of his mouth as he speaks, until Mom elbows him in the side.

"Awesome!" And I begin to lose myself in my enthusiasm.

That happens sometimes. I'm a ranter. If I get too excited, I lose it and speak someone else's ears off. That's been an usual turn off for guys I've met in the past. Reason I gave up on them.

Can't take my rants, means I won't take the guy. Simple as it is!

One time, Newt threw the remote at my head because he was so pissed about the fact I was enthusiastically speaking about the ice rink, while he can't even skate in the slightest.

But he's my brother.

When I finish talking about all the compliments I got (just two, but I said it before, I take compliments with love), and all the pirouettes I made, I have to take a deep breath.

"Don't you think you're going a bit overboard?"

My eyes shoot daggers at Newt. "Don't you think you were going a bit overboard when you found out your little boyfriend lives next door?"

My interest in asking how the meet up went flashes away as if it's the last product in a store, and an old woman grabs it in front of your eyes.

"You're acting like you got inside some professional school, and if you keep ranting about the compliments you got, I might vomit from how big your ego is."

That hurts.

Newt often has mood switches or outbursts after his attempt, but he's ruining my excitement and I can physically feel pieces of it ebbing away.

My attempt to see any of his words on the happy side fails.

"Newt—"

But before Mom finishes, I speak, "It's not for you to ruin my excitement. Maybe you're just jealous."

"I'd never be jealous of someone who is so delusional about a few compliments that they make it their personality and start showing off and think they're better than everyone," he spits the words out as if they're burning his tongue, and have been there for years.

There goes another piece of happiness. "I'm not trying to show off and I don't think I'm better than anyone at all," I tell him, hiding the shake in my voice. "I'm just excited and I understand that explaining I got compliments might seem selfish, but I'm just happy I got them in the first place."

His jaw tightens, and so does mine. I sense his anger, though I barely get into fights with Newt. Yes, we get in sibling fights, but not with words like these. And words do a lot to me.

"You can't even speak of anything else than—"

I nearly spring up, but I don't. "Now you're just trying to insult me for no reason, Newt! Just stop it, man. I understand. I won't tell you about my bloody lessons again."

I realize I'm not being myself. Not during this fight, not before ballet class, and maybe even not when I saw my new room or when Newt talked about his online friend.

Maybe the US isn't that exciting. Back in England, I was smiling all the time, greeted every stranger, and loved socializing. Now, it's different. It's not ruined yet, but I'll have to work on it.

Just gotta find a friend... or something.

Teresa seemed nice, but she's leaving in a few days and I'm not sure if she stays in this area.

"I don't give a bloody shit," he grunts at me, "about your ballet. Also, I spoke to Tommy about your sport and he says your so called 'lovely' teacher, ruined plenty of lives, so maybe you should take my advice—"

"I don't give a shit about what this Tommy says or what you think of the sport I do. Go find something yourself. Wait—"

"Newton, Rosalind, stop it."

If Dad hadn't made that call, I would've said something horribly wrong to Newt, and I'm glad I didn't get the chance to say them.

I'm ashamed the words even wanted to leave my lips.

Wait, can't do that because your leg's messed up.
I squeeze my eyes shut, and eat the rest of my food in silence.

Great start.

✵

After fights, I overthink. I overthink every word I've said and I repeat it in my mind until I come up with every single letter that might've hurt the person I threw the words at.

Everyone eventually gets over it, but I still do it.

I think I might have to apologize to Newt, but it's one AM, and he's early asleep. I usually am too, but overthinking goes its own way.

Then, I think back about Teresa and that boy named Tommy their words about Janson, and compare those with him.

There's a reason I'm leaving this place.
Tommy says that teacher ruined plenty of lives.

And I think back at the things that man told me.

New pointe shoes are always a struggle, but you're already doing it perfectly.
Thank you for joining our class. I'm sure you'll improve a lot, though I've noticed you're already good.

Now, I do realize those words sound kinda creepy, but that's only if you really overthink them. They're just usual compliments, and I've mentioned before that I'll know when a teacher doesn't do their job correctly.

I sigh quietly. Either they're speaking the truth, or they're just trying to ruin things for me. Also, how does that Tommy know Janson? Is he a danseur?

I must say the name Tommy isn't so bad. But I've got a lot to say about people as someone who likes to receives compliments.

Explains why I find half of the existing people pretty, and mention that as long as they're not a male the same age, or older than me.

Then, there's a sniff and a knock.

I sit straight up, immediately ready to help whoever it is. "Yeah?"

The door opens. Sonya runs over and attacks me with a hug after I see her glossy, red eyes and pouty lip.

"Hey, hey— what's wrong?" I take the girl in my arms, where she fits in perfectly because she's a few inches smaller than me, and move her hair out of her face. "Love, what happened?"

Another Isaacs family thing, 'love'. Mom calls people love, I call people love, Dad only calls mom love, Newt calls people love if he feels like it, and Sonya calls people love.

Lovely.

Ha.

We're like the Weasleys. Soon, a devilish family will come up to us and recognize we're the blondies with not second-hand stuff, but baby faces and accents.

"I miss her." She sniffs loudly into my shirt. "We do call— we call and we text," she cries, "but it's different without Harriet around."

I totally forgot. She had to move away from the best friend she's had since forever.

My heart breaks again. "Soon, we'll visit, or she visits us. We'll get some money and make it happen. Alright?"

"Alright." She nods as I wipe some tears away. "I feel useless without her. I'm a crybaby now."

I chuckle. "You can cry. And it doesn't make you useless. You're not useless at all, Nya. You're an awesome little sister and I'm glad you came around and talk to me," I whisper quietly. Comforting people is also something I enjoy doing, though I don't like to see them sad.

That's probably the reason I like to comfort them.

"How was school?" I ask. From the three kids, she's the only one who is still in school. Newt is doing some studies about becoming a teacher, but it doesn't count as high school to me.

"Great," she mutters. "I already made some friends. They didn't know I was new until I told them, since we started the same day summer vacation ended."

True. It's summer here. And I've noticed it's way hotter than in the UK.

"That's awesome!" I encourage. A few seconds later, she sits in front of me. "What're their names?"

"Brenda, Aris, and a boy who's name is Siggy, but they call him Frypan," she replies. Slowly, her eyes start to lit up and I know I've succeeded my task.

"They sound cool." I nod.

"And you? Made some friends at ballet?"

"There's a girl. Teresa. She's leaving, so I'll ask if she's leaving town or just ballet, soon. Who knows I'll grow a friendship with her." I feel my lips curl up. "And I'll do some bloody job fishin' tomorrow, so I can make money and hopefully more friends."

A laugh leaves her mouth. "Please go work somewhere where they sell food. Free food!"

"I'll think about it," I say. The idea doesn't even sound that bad. "Maybe, if Newt and I are okay, he can introduce me to that Tommy and he can recommend some jobs for me."

Sonya nods before letting herself fall backward. I do the same, so our faces are right next to each other. "What do you think his real name is? It can't actually be Tommy, right?"

"I don't know." I shrug, but I'm vaguely interested about this online friend. "It could be his actual name."

"Antonio!" Her laugh gets more audible. "Or Tom. Maybe Thomas, or Timothy."

Or he's actually named Lady GlitterPie but is ashamed and calls himself Tommy.

"Speaking of him, Newt invited him over for tomorrow, so you can immediately ask about the jobs!"