The first class post-trade came and Casey felt a little strange walking into the girls' room, though it amused her to see Jesse's cubby labeled 'Jessie'. It felt even stranger to be easing tights up her legs after a month in a t-shirt and leggings. Somehow, the pink seemed even pinker when it was on her body. She looked around the room and felt a little better. Everyone else was wearing it. Maybe this wasn't so bad. She stood up and fixed her tutu and her hairbow. She nodded and then did a few quick rises to her toes. Yep, she would be fine! Maybe a little awkward for the first twenty minutes, but she'd catch on real fast. She smiled to herself and joined the rest of the class on their walk out to the barre. She gave Jesse a reassuring smile as they crossed paths. Everything had worked out perfectly.
She watched him all the same, just to make sure, as they did their initial greetings, ballerinas curtsying, boys bowing, before returning to their respective barres. Jesse felt so normal in his leggings and t-shirt. He could still feel the tutu around his waist, but it was thrilling to finally be free of it. He took an excited breath, ready to do proper ballet, not that girly, prissy stuff!
"Young lady?" Madame Brusatte cleared her throat. Was Casey in trouble already? Jesse snuck a quick peek and jumped. Madame Brusatte was right in front of him, looking sternly down at him.
"Uh"
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Who? Me?"
"Yes. Jessie. Who else would I be talking to? Why are you not in uniform?"
"Uh, I..." he stammered, his heart in his throat. What was going on? He was in uniform! White shirt, black leggings, black slippers. Madame Brusatte grabbed his wrist and pulled him out of the line. He looked over to Casey, who seemed as perplexed as he was, although less panicked.
Madame Brusatte brought Jesse into her office and began to rustle around in a cabinet.
"Tell your parents the first replacement is free, but I expect you to be prepared for every class from now on."
"What?" was all he was able to squeak out. What was going on?
"Is this a joke? Did you forget your uniform? I don't much care. I expect you to be dressed in five minutes." She shoved a mass of pink into Jesse's arms and he understood. She thought he was a girl! "As if I'd start class without one of my most promising ballerinas." She murmured under her breath. She actually thought he was a girl!
"But... I... I'm a boy." Madame Brusatte was already moving, manicured hand holding his upper arm as she escorted him past the class. Casey's eyes lit up as she saw what he held. She was going to help him, right? They couldn't both get in trouble, could they? Casey cowardly remained silent as Madame Brusatte dragged Jesse past her all the way to the door of the girls' changing room.
"Five minutes." She repeated before turning to address the class. "The rest of you, let's work on an arabesque while we wait for our wayward ballerina." She looked back toward the dumbfounded boy, his arms practically overflowing with pink. "Scoot."
"What am I going to do?" He mumbled as he found himself once again in the girls' changing room. He could not very well hide in here. Madame Brusatte would easily be able to find him. There was no way to sneak out, though he did eye the window high on the far wall. Even if he could climb that high, he'd probably get stuck trying to squeeze through it. There was no other choice. "You did this for a month. We'll straighten it out after class." He wished he could believe that.
Jesse timidly made his way out of the changing room, wishing more and more with every step that he had just made a run for it. Madame Brusatte was waiting for him.
âAnd lower those legs. Jessie, why donât you make your way up here?â Everyone in the room immediately recognized that he was being put in the troublemaker spot: right in front of the teacher. Thanks to his attire, Jesse almost naturally fell into dainty, airy motions as he walked past the assembled ballerinas. He expected Casey to look overjoyed at his predicament, but she looked worried as she eyed him up and down. What was that about? âHold on. Face the class.â Jesse complied.
"Repeat after me. A ballerina must never keep her class waiting." Jesse repeated it. He felt Madame Brusatte adjust the hair bow atop his head. "And curtsy. Lovely, lovely. You may join the other girls." She looked over the entire class and nodded before resuming class. "Now, letâs..."
The End