Saint Joseph School

In the dimness of pre-dawn, November stole down the stairs to the gym. She wore her tights and a white lycra top, and carried her pointe shoes over her shoulder. Since that first day when she had put those shoes back on, she had found herself in the gym more and more. Her feet had grown tougher, stronger. So she started pushing herself harder, ever farther. Somehow, she could not leave the gym satisfied unless something hurt.

As she turned the corner towards the open door, she heard the strains of Beethoven rise to greet her. She smiled absently for a moment before the import of what she heard fully dawned on her. Someone had trepassed. That was her stereo, her disc. Someone was using her things. She heard feet moving on the floor, the thump of a jump, the rhythmic breathing.

She couldn't just barge in, shouting like a madwoman. No, better to learn what she could. Sharpen her barbs in her mind before loosing them. She peered around the corner of the door. What she saw made her catch her breath.

It was the carib boy, Jai. He was dancing, but it was unlike anything she had ever seen. Certainly not classically trained. Self-taught, perhaps. He wore a pair of loose-fitting shorts and a grey t-shirt. He was barefoot, and his face glistened with sweat.

He leapt high into the air, twisting, whipping one leg out to propel his momentum. But unexpectedly, at least to November's eyes, he used the momentum to carry his weight upwards, transforming his spin into a kind of somersault. His hands came down, planting heavily. His arms bent painfully to halt his momentum as he came into stillness for a moment, balanced on his hands. Then, with a light noise of exertion, he flipped backwards and landed on his feet. But even before he had fully landed, he dropped backwards, tucking in his shoulder. And the improbable moves continued to flow from his body, at once seeming improvised and thoroughly practiced. And though she could see the effort it took, he somehow had adjusted the rhythm of his outlandish movements to match the decidedly calmer meter of the Beethoven.

And then is was over. The song ended, Jai thumped back down onto the wooden floor, breathing hard.

November made her move. She sauntered in, threw out her hip, and planted her hand upon it. "Well. Should I applaud, or just shout 'you got served'?"

Jai jerked his head up, surprised. But disarmingly, he seemed relieved to see her. "Allo, Novembre!" he said between gulps of air. He wiped his brow. "I was wondrin' wen yuh was gonna come down."

November shook hear head, confounded.

She followed the line of the stands and parked herself down. She lifted up a foot and began wrapping it up. Jai's bouncing about slowed down when he caught sight of November's toes. The nails were kept severely short and the pink flesh around the joints and sides of her toes were thick and calloused, forming fat unsightly pads and old ruptured blisters. Jai blinked a couple of times. November's feet were not her most attractive feature.

She finished up and rose to her pointes. She saw the startled expression on the boy's face and laughed. "Wha' ya do to yer feet, guyl?", he asked earnestly. November shrugged as she carefully stepped across the floor, her already 5'10" frame with the added lift made her appear hulking. She replied, "Just something ballet dancer's get used to."

November smiled and suspended her arms into the air. She crossed them over her head and tossed her form into a quick spin around Jai, who had remained still after catching view of her "ballerina feet". She was behind him now and gave him a swift kick to the rear as she lifted her leg and turned into a leap. "Oh, get over it," she yipped when she landed, "I have."

Jai finally bobbed his head in response. November stopped and dropped, her soles flat against the gymnasium floor - retaining her natural height. She gazed off into space as she listened to the music streaming from her stereo. Jai scratched his jawline, "Wot is it now?"

"You listen to this while dancing...the way you do?"
- "Yah. Sometimes. It works. Makes muh keep more contro' of me body dat way when deh beat be mellow."
"I see. Well, how about we try something else?" She meandered over to her bag and retrieved a CD. She replaced the Beethoven disk, turned up the voume, and pressed play.

Loud drum and bass suddenly pounded through the cavernous room. A feminine voice started belting rhymes. Jai slapped his hands together and nodded his head in tune with the electrical beats, "'ey! Now we talkin', guyl! Wot be dis?"

November hopped to her pointes as she turned to face him, "M.I.A., etes-vous pret?"