You're So Sweet Read Free Page B

occasionally and will force him to teach their kids or if he’s just hopelessly vain and wants to feel important.”
    â€œAwesome,” said Julian. “I didn’t know he even taught still.”
    Tristan grinned. “He teaches what he wants to teach, and who he wants to teach. I hate to say it, but he’s kind of awesome.” They went downstairs to get changed.
    As they were stretching before class, everyone was completely buzzed about both the first day back and a class with Mr. Demidovski. There were small groups spread out over the room, stretching and gossiping, with Delilah skipping from group to group to make sure she didn’t miss anything.
    â€œIs his class hard?” Julian asked as he pushed Tristan’s leg up to his head.
    Tristan let his leg fall down and then collapsed to the ground. “Uh … depends? His class is sort of hard to describe. It’s always random. Hey, do you think you could stretch my feet? Thanks. Er, I don’t think you are strong enough to stretch them with your hands, do you think you could stand on them? Thanks … ow! No, that’s good.”
    There was a sudden hush as Mr. Demidovski walked in. Holding a walking stick for emphasis, he paused in the doorway to survey his students. “Ah bea-u-tiful day, yes?” he asked, beaming around. There was flurry of smiling and nodding, and everyone hurried to find their place at the barre , shedding their warm-ups as they went. Mr. Demidovski went and sat down in the chair being offered to him by Gabriel, the academy’s office-person-in-charge-of-everything. He waited patiently until they had arranged themselves to their satisfaction, his hands clasped in front of him in a vaguely prayer-like position.
    â€œFacing the barre ,” he said softly, the whole class ten times quieter than usual as they listened to him. “And one … and breathe. Port de bras out … and around … not too far, Tristan, hold your back … and straighten. Rise … plie … straighten and down. You,” he gestured at Taylor, “do not force the feet over, keep strong.”
    As Mr. Demidovski gave the exercise, Julian watched his face. Tristan was right, he was very cool. He could no longer show them the exercises, but from the way he tilted his head, to the lines he showed them with his hands, Julian could tell what a great dancer Mr. Demidovski must have been. Julian worked harder in that simple barre than he had all year, he realized when they’d only finished a ronds de jambe exercise, and he was dripping with sweat.
    But the end of the barre , Julian felt bit annoyed with Mr. Demidovski, and guilty for feeling like that. Mr. Demidovski was old; he had much more important things to think of than Julian. But still … all year Julian had gotten far more than his share of corrections from all the teachers, and it hurt to be ignored by the one teacher whom he felt mattered the most. He had not gotten one single correction, or even any indication that Mr. Demidovski was watching him, despite the fact that he was standing right behind Tristan, who appeared to be one of Mr. Demidovski’s favourites. He chugged some of his water, and then it was time for centre work.
    â€œYou, my dear, you come here,” Mr. Demidovski said, pointing at Taylor and placing her in the front line, left. “Anna …” he pointed her to the middle, “and Trist-in,” placing him on the right.
    Julian sighed. It was actually perfectly logical. After all, he was new to the academy. If Mr. Demidovski didn’t even remember Taylor’s name, why would he notice Julian?
    â€œBack, Kaitlyn … Alexandra … Grace … and Kageki.” Mr. Demidovski finished, leaning back in his chair again with a sigh of satisfaction. Kageki’s face lit up with a huge grin as he quickly bounded to take his place. Mr. Demidovski began giving them the exercise, and then the first