On My Count
an excerpt

The hall was empty except for a lone brunette female with an expression of slight irritation. Her arms were crossed over her chest as if annoyed of any form of matter around her. Her body was leaning against the white of the hallway wall with her messenger bag that was crammed with books and papers, laying lazily on the ground. She wore a pair of faded blue jeans and a white halter, giving off a very casual look to go along with her long brunette hair that was pulled up into a ponytail. It was a couple silent minutes before another girl came bursting through a door, causing a lot of noise and jogged over to the annoyed brunette.

“Crap Issy, I am sorry,” the second girl, a red head with freckles across the bridge of her nose and light green eyes, apologized to the brunette. Issy, as she used, happened to be a nickname for her friend, derived from the name of Isabel. She smiled apologetically at her friend.

“I have been waiting here for a little over an hour, you should be sorry,” Isabel replied with a slightly irritated tone in her voice. “Not exactly how I wanted to spent the start of my weekend, waiting for my best friend to get out of class, when classes were over an hour ago. Are you getting extra dance help or something?” she asked, noticing that the red head had come out of a dance studio. She was still dressed in her dance clothes as well, which was all the more reason to hypothesize that she had come from dance tutoring.

The two girls, along with the rest of the students, belonged to a private dance school that many attended after high school. It was located in a small town and most known for helping dancers become better and get scouted almost twice as fast as many other schools it’s size and age. The school itself was an old brick, two story building. Before it was turned into a dance school, it was the old fire station back in the 1950s. Many of the fire department’s rooms had been turned into studios, and the school was built upon to hold the maximum capacity of young dancing students.

The red head nodded in response to her friend. “Can’t help it. You know we all can’t be as instantly and insanely talented as Isabel Evans.”

“Amanda, pull your lips from my backside please,” Isabel joked with her friend. Amanda laughed and scoffed at the same time, before pushing her friend hard enough to make her nearly lose balance and have to take a few extra steps to the side.