This story is completely fictional. Any resemblance by name or description to anyone dead or alive is totally coincidental. This is a love story between two high school aged boys. If this offends you, if you are not of legal age or if this content is not legal in your area, please do not read this. If you have comments, please email me at bdslider1@gmail.com. If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating to nifty.org. Their hard work helps us all enjoy these stories. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ballet Academy 1. Bing! The "Fasten Seatbelts" sign comes on and I feel the landing gear emerge out of the bottom of the plane. The good kind of butterflies in my tummy really start fluttering around, and I can`t help but smile. I'm about to start my new life! I sit in the window seat with my light gray hoodie pulled tight around my face while wisps of my blond hair peek out. I finally got the perfect cut. I just hope it doesn't look like I'm trying to be too cute. I'd better be careful not to squish it down. I have just enough room for my iPod earpiece wires to sneak through to my ears. I was hoping that the sight of me said "Leave me alone!" to anyone who wanted to talk to me on this leg of the trip, and it worked. I just wanted to curl up and dream about my new life and what wonders are in store for me. People love to talk to me, especially on a plane. I guess I just have that friendly demeanor and approachability. Plus, people automatically like to know why a sixteen-year-old boy is traveling alone. That seemed to be a conversation starter on the first leg of my flight. My name is Eli Burke. I'm a high-school junior. Actually, I'm not a junior anymore; I'm a "Year-5", but I'll explain that later. I'm leaving my high school, my family and my friends behind in Orange County, California for my new life at the Montreal Academy of Ballet. In Mon-fucking-tre-al! In CANADA! I've never even been out of the country before! So why am I starting a new life at such a young age? Well, my life is boring. I'm sick of it. I'm unfulfilled. I'm alone. Actually, I have two passions: swimming and ballet. If I had to pick one, swimming is my real passion. I'm one of those kids who spent as much of my life as possible in a pool. Every summer, growing up, I was at the public pool, usually seven days a week. My family moved to Anaheim when I was eleven, and my parents picked a house with a pool just so I could be at home and swim to my heart`s content. I feel natural in the water. Maybe somewhere in my ancestry is a fish, or a squid, or a Spongebob. All of my friends and family have always thought I'd be an Olympic swimmer. Swimming really brings out my competitive side. I'm incredibly competitive and I fucking hate to lose. Luckily for me, that doesn't happen too often. I know I'm dramatic, and I know I'm immature, but I get away with it, mostly because I'm cute. It`s a good thing I`m great at most things; I seem to lose control when I fail at anything. I`m working on that.... Well, maybe not, but at least I'm aware of it. Ballet tends to center me, to calm me down. It's something that I didn't expect from ballet, but it sure helps. Granted, ballet can spark my competitive side, as well, but so far, I haven't had any competition. There were no other boys at my ballet studio, at least none my age. I think there might have been a five or six-year-old at one time, but that's not exactly my cup of tea, and it`s not like we competed for the same roles. I haven't been allowed to compete in any ballet competitions... to be a "dance kid" as they call it. This was for two reasons. Number one, I wouldn't have been good enough, and two, no one thought I could handle the failure. They were probably right. Surprisingly, something happened to me these last couple of years. Actually, something happened to my body. As I went through puberty, my body transformed into... well, a danseur's body. That's the male version of a ballerina for those that don't know. I'm tall and slim: six feet, one inch and still growing. My legs grew out, long and slender... and beautifully toned, thanks to the swimming-ballet combo. Legs and feet are two of the most important assets for a danseur, and there are a lot of boys out there who love to dance more than I do that wish they had my assets. As for me, I just love to wear the tights. There, I said it. I'm actually wearing a pair right now under my jeans... light gray, to match my hoodie... not that anyone could see that I'm that color-coordinated. I'm wearing long socks and my favorite beat-up black Converse All-stars. Those, combined with my jeans completely cover my secret. I wish I could wear tights in public. Maybe someday, I'll have the nerve and I can change the world. For now, I flex my toes every once in a while to feel the cool spandex and nylon material slide snugly around my feet... nice. I'm not a cross-dresser or anything, but tights have always fascinated me. I've never wanted to dress up as a girl or wear lingerie or anything like that. I always just wondered what it might be like to wear them growing up. Then, when I was eight years old, I saw a danseur on television for the first time wearing tights. I couldn't stop staring at his legs. I think I got my first hard-on, although I didn't know what was going on at the time. I just knew I had to do what he was doing, so I could wear tights. I love the way my legs look in them, and I love the way they feel. Sure, I eventually got to love the actual dancing part of ballet. I really had to put a lot of effort into it to disguise the fact that at first, I just wanted to pose and look at myself in the huge dance studio mirror in my tights. At first, I was terrible, but everyone is, at first. The studio was thrilled to have me, though. They could do so many more numbers with a boy in the class, so I got lots of extra attention and extra time to bring my skills up to par. I got better, year by year, but the greatest jump in my ability came last year, as my body began to change. That's probably my favorite part of ballet: what it did to my body. I have beautifully toned muscles that you can't get any other way... not from any gym, not from any other exercise program. I have rock-hard calves. I have the danseur biceps and shoulders. Of course my favorite is my tummy... the last time I counted, I have a 24-pack. I have little ripples of muscles all over and not an ounce of fat on me. Once I had my new body, I was able to pull off so many more new moves, positions and lifts. I could pull off anything they threw at me, and I loved it. I smile as I remember the stunned faces of my instructors, and soon thereafter, of the studio owner. That's what led to my current situation. The owner of my ballet studio, Mistress Polya, has contacts at the Montreal Academy of Ballet. I wish she had a contact somewhere that wasn't a zillion fucking miles from home, but beggars can't be choosy. She said that because of my body and talent, I could have a career as a danseur with proper training. If I could afford the tuition, I had the opportunity. My family isn't rich. I mean, we're doing fine, but we couldn't afford the $42,000 per year tuition for the academy. Luckily, I have a rich Aunt Lois. Everyone should have a rich Aunt Lois! She's the bomb! I mean, I didn't even have to beg or anything. I just told her about the offer, and she jumped at the chance. Speaking of the fam, I love them and all, but I'm hardly devastated at having to leave them behind. It's partly because I rarely see them. I'm an only child... thankfully, I guess. Other kids growing up in my household might turn out to be really fucked up. My parents are good people and they love me... but they're just absent... due to their addictions. My dad is a workaholic. He's a tax lawyer, trying desperately to make partner at his firm. He works eighty-hour weeks, sometimes more. He spends many nights asleep on his couch at his office. When he does come home, he's constantly in his office upstairs, still working. He loves me, and he is always happy to see me when I go up to his office to say hi and talk... but after a few minutes, his eyes start to veer back towards his laptop screen when we`re trying to have a conversation. I think it's like crack to him. Some of my friends say their dads are like that, except their dad's eyes veer back to a football game on TV. All in all, I guess as far as kids that have addicts for dads, I got off easy. As for my mom, she's an alcoholic. It's kind of like a workaholic, except with alcohol. She's not the kind of alcoholic that gets violent and shatters vases against walls, and she's not the kind that blacks out and does embarrassing things that she doesn't remember. She's the kind that needs booze to get through the day. Unfortunately, she has a lot to do every day, and by the time I would get home in the evening from swimming and/or ballet, she would almost always be passed out. When my dad joined his current firm, and we moved to Orange County, my mom decided to stay at home and didn't look for a job. She was instantly unhappy, but once the drinking started, she decided she'd rather be a lonely drunk housewife than go back to work. To each her own, I guess. I didn't rock the boat, and neither did my folks. Each one of them knew that if they said anything about the other's problem, their personal addiction would be thrown back in their face, and they'd have to deal with it. No one wanted that. I would just find rides with my friends and their parents and do my own thing. At night, I'd sit around alone and do my homework and watch TV. I wouldn't have to worry about anyone busting in on me when I was jerking off or lounging around in my tights, so I didn't mind being alone... until recently, that is. On to the rest of my old life: school. I had friends, lots of them, in fact. Unfortunately, all of my friends were girls. I did have friends that were boys when I was younger, but once I came out, that ended. Actually, I never officially "came out". People just assumed I was gay from the fact that I hung out with girls and did ballet, and I didn't deny it when people asked. I just acted like it wasn't a big deal. I mean, we're in Orange County, not Alabama. Boys just tended to ignore me, mostly out of fear... two kinds of fear, that is. First, some kid wrote "FAG" with a sharpie on my locker two years ago and was instantly expelled because they caught him on a security camera. What a dumbass! My old school doesn't tolerate that kind of shit, luckily. The other fear was that if any boy was caught talking to me or even looking at me, he was instantly accused of faggotry by the other boys. It's so fucking stupid. Even at swim meets, the boys on the team would cheer for me, but in a very subdued and uncomfortable way. They had to. I single-handedly won meets for our school time after time. That's all behind me now, though. I've given up swimming to pursue my new life. I sure hope the academy has a pool, though. I need to indulge my old passion from time to time. As for the girls, I love 'em, but I'm sick to death of 'em. They can be so immature, stupid and cruel. I was firmly planted within the most popular clique of girls at school. They loved the novelty of a cute, blond, gay boy being in their entourage, and I guess I loved the attention, since I got none at home. However, the older we got, the worse they acted. They were catty and jealous, they would bully other girls, they all wanted me as their BFF, and they all wanted me on their side against everyone else. Plus, they'd compare me to their boyfriends, and their boyfriends clearly couldn't measure up. It was starting to get me in trouble with some guys -- trouble I didn't need. Needless to say, I'm better off getting out of that entire situation. Most of those girls will make excellent Facebook friends, but that's all. I feel the wheels thud against the runway, and another jolt of excitement shoots through my body. I think of the real reason I'm embarking on this adventure: I want to fall in love. I smile, take a deep breath and close my eyes as we roll towards the terminal. I ache for it desperately, and it's consumed my every thought for the last couple of years. I guess you could say that I'm boy crazy. I can't keep from fantasizing about boys all the time. I'm not really ready for the whole sex part, yet. Actually, it makes me really nervous to think about it. I'm sure eventually it will be awesome, but right now, what I really want is to have a boyfriend whom I love very much and who loves me. We'd hold hands, cuddle with each other under a blanket on the couch and giggle while we watch a scary movie in the dark. He'd playfully caress my arm while we talk and I`d get chills... and we would kiss, slow and sweet, hot and juicy, totally insatiable. His lips would taste like the tart sugar on Sour Patch Kids candy. I couldn't get enough of him and he couldn't get enough of me. Most teenagers can't handle the whole love thing; it's too much for them. It's probably because they're not ready to love someone and they're not ready to be loved. I'm so ready for both. I've always had the fantasy that one day, some cute ballet boy would show up at my dance studio, join my class and sweep me off my feet. That vision stayed with me day after day, year after disappointing, stagnant year. It distracted me from my dancing far too often, as I always had to keep the front door of the studio in sight as I danced. My heart would always skip a beat when I would see a teenage boy walk through the front door of the dance studio, but it would always be some kid picking up his little sister. My prince in tights never came, so when I had this chance -- to live with and constantly be around other ballet boys my own age, I had to go. Surely, I'm not the only gay ballet boy at this academy in search of love. Am I? I futilely try to control my heart beat as I exit the plane, pick up my luggage at the baggage claim and find my driver holding a sign saying "BURKE". The driver speaks only French, so I ride to the Academy in frustrated silence because I have so many questions. The car stops in front of an old three-story building, seeped in history. I get my luggage and head towards the front entrance. I look around at all the windows, seeing classrooms and dance studio rooms, but I don't see any students. It's late Saturday afternoon, so I have the rest of today and all day tomorrow to look around and get settled, then classes start Monday. As I approach the front door, I see a cute boy leaning up against the arch of the doorway. He's about my age, and he's smiling and looking right at me. I smile back, thinking, "Hello, contestant number one!" 2. "You must be Burke," the boy says as I walk up to him. He tilts his sunglasses down and checks me out, head to toe, with a smile. "Yeah, I'm Eli," I say, extending my hand. "Pleased to make your acquaintance. The name's Topher, but you can call me Toph." Topher is just the kind of boy that I knew existed SOMWHERE. He has fairly short, light brown hair, styled conservatively for a ballet academy, but still with some youth and sex appeal. He has clear and sparkling brown eyes, and a really cute, mischievous smile. He dresses like most poor dancers: mostly thrift store finds that could easily sell for hundreds of dollars per article if bought in a high-fashion store. Right now, he's wearing a long-sleeve brown and tan stripy shirt, conveniently torn around the shoulder to reveal his sexy delts, no doubt honed from doing lifts for years. He's wearing beat-up brown jeans and leather flip-flops, revealing serious dancer feet... not bad. "So you like to be called Tofe?" I ask, accentuating the `F'. "Uhh, yeah, but with a normal pronunciation," he smiles and turns towards the door. I get a quick look at his sweet, muscular ass, frustratingly obscured by those droopy brown jeans. I'll get a better look at the booty and the legs in class, I'm sure. I can't wait to see him in tights. He turns around and heads for the front door, and I pick up my bags and scramble to follow him. "Well, where do I go?" I ask, worried that he's about to leave me alone. "With me, dummy!" I breathe a sigh of relief as I realize he's actually just opening the door to hold it for me. "I'm the welcome committee." "Perfect. Take me to where I can drop these off. They're pretty heavy." "That's the plan. First stop, the dorms." As I manage to get my bags through the doorway, Topher turns his back on me and starts walking ahead. The least he could do would be to offer to carry one of my bags since he can see how cumbersome they are. I scrunch up my face in disappointment.... That's strike one for Topher. "What rooms are these?" I ask, as we pass several doorways. "Those are just classrooms. We'll get to that part later. Now, lemme ask you. Are you a rich kid or a scholarship kid?" "What? Uhh... neither." "All of the students are here because of one of two reasons. Either you were a part of a huge ballet studio in a big city that sends their best students here on scholarship... or your family is rich, and they sent you here as a boarding school cuz they don't wanna deal with your ass." "Ummm," I'm totally stunned, and my voice is noticeably shaky. He's totally thrown me off my normally-steady social posture. Maybe that's his game, or maybe he just doesn't know any better. Strike two for ole' Topher. "Really, neither. I don't have a scholarship, but I didn't get sent away here. I really wanted to come. I have a really nice aunt that--" "Okay, cool. So, you're a rich kid." He turns to me and pats me on the shoulder. "It's cool. So am I! I just wanted to know... ya know. Those fucking scholarship kids can be so fucking conceited." Damn, if he just wanted to know the answer to his question, he could've just asked, "So, are you here on a scholarship?" He didn't have to be a dick about it. He turns his back to me again and starts walking, missing his second opportunity to help me with my bags. I guess he just wants me to stare at his ass... so I will. We head to the dorms, passing up some younger boys. Damn, I wish I was here when I was their age! They must be Year-1's and Year-2's. They're so cute. I just want to pinch their cheeks. Yes, the ones on their faces. The academy doesn't have normal grades like I'm used to in the states. The ranking system is based on years, with "Year-1" pertaining to kids normally the age of 7th graders, while the last year, "Year-6's" are the kids that would be high school seniors. Since I'm officially a Year-5, I'm going to be in class with kids my own age that have been here since Year-1. Allegedly, they won't all have been here since Year-1, and some of them should be late starters, like me. Even so, I'm going to start out way behind as far as skill level... or so I've been told. I'm supposed to be humble and act very eager to learn, but Mistress Polya told me that it wouldn't take me long to catch up. We keep walking to the end of the dorm rooms, finally entering a door marked "12". Topher opens the door for me, and I struggle past him with my bags. I stumble over to one of the beds and plop one of my suitcases on the floor. "Here, let me help you with that." Topher takes the heavy bag with the strap that was cutting into my shoulder the whole time. "So KIND of you," I say as sarcastically as I can, but I'm so winded, it didn't come out as cutting as I'd hoped. "Dude, if carrying those bags to your room exhausted you that much, you're gonna have a big problem at this school. You gotta get in shape, and fast!" Topher pats me on the stomach as if I have a big gut, then sits on the bed across the room, sizing me up again. Maybe I'm in over my head. I didn't think I could possibly be in better shape. I guess I'll have to work on my stamina. I did get pretty tired at the end of swim and ballet practice at home. Now, I'm gonna be doing that stuff all day long. Well, I guess there's only one way to see if I'm up to the task. "Water," I pant. "Okay, let's go to the commons." He stands up, so I stand as well, but he stops and looks me over again. "Soooo... are you a straight boy or a `mo?" He asks, completely nonchalantly. I'm thrown off again, even more so this time. "EXCUSE me?" I stop in my tracks. "Sweet! Another gay boy! For us Year-5's, we've got the straight boys outnumbered eight to four! That may be some sort of record! Usually, it's about even or the straight boys have a slight advantage." "I didn't answer your question either way, TOFFFE." some spit escapes my lips as I pronounce his name with rage in my voice. "Oh sorry, it's just that straight boys always answer that question with `I'm straight!', and gay boys always answer that with `Excuuuuse me?' or something similar." I start to follow him again, shaking my head. I'm in way over my head here. Oh, by the way, strike three for Tofffe! And he had such promise. "Do I have a roommate?" I ask. "Yeah, he's a hunky Year-6 `mo that looks just like Taylor Lautner." He busts up before he could finish his sentence. "Seriously," I roll my eyes. I'm starting to see why Topher's parents shipped him away to this school. He's really getting on my nerves... but maybe he'll eventually give me some information. "Who's my roommate?" "Jayden's gonna bunk with you. He probably won't be here until sometime tomorrow. He's a `mo too. He's pretty cool, most of the time. He can be a little whiny... sometimes he can be a real bitch... but I'm sure you boys will get along REAL nicely." He grabs me by the shoulders and rubs them vigorously. I push him back, resisting the urge to deck him in the face. He sees that he's upset me, so he quickly backs off. "Do I hear a new boy?" a girly, Latin voice calls out from the hallway. "In here, Fons," Topher yells. "Hellyo theres," the boy peeks his head around the door frame. I smile politely. "Fons, this is Eli. Eli, this is our token Latino, Alfonso. He likes to go by `the Fons', but a more appropriate name for him is ALF!" "Mister Eli, I'm a pleasure to meet joo. Mister Topher, Fuck-a YOU!" He continues on a profanity-laced rant, I assume, in Spanish as he heads back down the hallway and eventually, out of earshot. We leave my room once it's safe, and head down the hallway into a wide-open area with two sofas and a TV. "Lemme show you around," he says, getting a clean glass and filling it up with water for me. "This is the commons for Year-5. This is where we hang out, eat, watch TV, do homework, whatever. If you can't get Wi-Fi in your room, come out here. The signal's strong. If you put anything in the fridge, make sure it has your name on it, or it's considered `for all' and will be gone in two seconds. Do your own dishes, pick up after yourself, yadda, yadda, yadda." "Got it," I smile, looking over at the couch. I can just picture my boyfriend and myself on that couch, my exhausted body leaning up against him, telling him about my day, complaining about my teachers... with him giving me a sympathetic kiss on the forehead as he tenderly wraps his muscular arms around me... and all the time, people will be walking by, talking to each other, going to their rooms, getting something to eat, not even paying any attention to us, because it's NO BIG DEAL! I can't wait. "What, you wanna take a nap on the couch? We got people to do and things to meet!" "Cute," I say, snapping out of my daydream. "Okay, let's go." "I can introduce you to Kaden and Aiden. That's not to be confused with your roommate, Jayden! They got here this morning. I don't know if anyone else is here yet." I can't believe these names! It seems like around the time I was born, parents (probably mothers) only named their sons stupid little-boy names. They failed to realize that boys grow up, into teenagers, then into men. I used to hate my name, Eeeee-lyyyyye, but I like it a little better now that there's a Superbowl-winning quarterback with the same name. I probably won't mind it so much as I get older. However, I'd hate to be thirty years old and be named... JAY-DEN... or worse... forty years old and named TOE-FFFER! We walk down the hall, and Topher knocks on a door marked nine, letting himself in without an invitation. "Guys, this is the fresh meat, Eli." I walk in and feel my face turn red. Oh great, what a way to meet new people. I see there are a couple of girls in the room with what... I guess... are boys. "This is Aiden, Kaden, Nina and... what was your name again?" The other girl stands up and walks over to shake my hand with a warm smile. "Hi, I'm Maria, and I partnered with this sack of shit all last year," she pinches Topher hard on his butt cheek, causing him to jump and squeal. I like her already! "Poor you," I murmur. "We got a good one here!" She turns around to the others in the room and I smile and wave. Nina looks as white as a sheet, emaciated and sickly, but she flashes me a polite smile. I turn to Kaden and Aiden, who are pursing their lips as they look me over. Kaden is the tallest, slimmest, most effeminate boy I've ever met, that is, until I turn to Aiden. They could be twins. I guess places like this are refuges for boys like Kaden and Aiden. They'd have no chance at surviving at any high school in the United States, or probably Canada, which I know nothing about. "Glad to know you," Kaden says, or is that Aiden? "We'll see you around, Eli," the other one smiles at me, creepily. I can already tell I'm going to get the two of them mixed up constantly. "See you fools around. I gotta show this boy the rest of our wonderful academy now." Topher tries to physically yank me out of the room, but I wriggle out of his grasp and walk out of the room on my own. As I start to walk down the hall, I hear parts of chatter coming from the room I just left: "Something, something, something, teacher's PET!" which is followed by four people laughing hysterically. "What are they laughing at?" I ask, noticing Topher try to suppress chuckles of his own. "Oh, nothing. Just ignore them... They're a bunch of dorks. By the way, Aiden and Kaden are a couple, so they`re off limits... if you were getting any ideas." "Uhh... gotcha." "More about that later," he says, turning away from me with a devilish smile. We head back towards the front door to the building where I came in, but I see two more boys about my age coming down the hall towards us. They must be Year-5's, as well, because they're heading to our dorm hall. "Sup," I nod at them, as they pass, but they totally ignore me, continuing their conversation about football, if I hear correctly. "That's Matt on the left and Jeff on the right," Topher rolls his eyes. "Just ignore them, too. They're straight boys, and all they do is talk about their FANTASTIC football." "FANTASY football," calls Jeff over his shoulder, irritated. "Don't pay attention to him," Matt peers at Topher, still ignoring me, over his shoulder. "He's just trying to annoy you. Anyway, Flacco--" they continue into their dorm room and out of ear-shot. Topher smiles and winks at me, and I chuckle. Okay, I gotta hand it to Topher on that one. That was pretty cool. "They have girlfriends, so they're off limits, too." "I think I figured that out on my own," I say with a big sigh. I smile secretly as I start to get a tingle in my pleasure regions. It's not that I'm going to jump Matt or Jeff's bones or anything. I have no intentions of going after straight boys. It's just that the idea of "Matt and Jeff" is so awesome. They're both very attractive, and they don't fit the ballet stereotype, whatsoever. Matt and Jeff just look like normal boys that could go to my old high school. They could be athletes. I could just imagine them walking down the halls of my old school, talking about fantasy football. There were so many Matts and Jeffs at my old school doing the same thing. Except, Matt and Jeff are at THIS school. They're walking down THESE halls talking about fantasy football, and later, they'll be in MY ballet class... with ME... in their TIGHTS... dancing BALLET! It's so cool, and it's SO hot! Even if I don't get a boyfriend right away, I think I'm still going to love this place. "Onward and upward," Topher calls after me, as he notices I'm lagging behind. "Sorry, what's next?" I say, jogging to catch up. "Let's head up to the studio rooms," he says. We make a quick left and run up a couple of flights of stairs to the third floor and enter a door marked "B". We enter a huge ballet rehearsal room. There's an older girl practicing in the corner, who ignores us. "This is where our classes will be held. We have Pas de Deux at eight am until ten. That means you have to be up, showered, dressed, breakfasted, and ready to go by eight sharp. Right now, in the Year-5 class, we have the full twelve boys, but only eleven girls. Since you're the low man on the totem pole, you'll have no partner at first. That shouldn't last long, though. They always can fill empty slots quick here... but more on that later, too." He does a dramatic leap in the air to impress me, but I just turn slightly and look out the window, ignoring him. "Then we have Classical until noon. THEN, we get an hour break for lunch. It usually ends up only being thirty or forty minutes. Pas de Deux always goes long, and Classical always, ALWAYS goes long. We go back to commons to eat before we start school. C'mon!" We start to run out of the room, but he stops me by holding a hand up to my chest. I guess he wanted to check out my pecs since he got a feel of my abs earlier. "Oh wait, you know what to wear, right?" "Uhh... you mean to class?" "Yeah, boys' dress code is a white tank top or t-shirt, white tights underneath black knee-length tights, and white ballet shoes. Do you have all of those things?" "Yeah, I got `em," I smile, thinking about how hot all the boys are going to look. "Perfect!" He runs out of the room with the same devilish smile, and I jog behind him, yet again. We head back to the first floor classrooms I passed when I first walked in. "This is our classroom," he points to a door marked seven. "It's locked right now. We have all of our classes here, just like upstairs. The teachers go from room to room, not us. It really helps the day DRAG when you're stuck in one place. I'm sure that's the reason they do it this way. This year we have English, Math, Canadian History... I know, who cares... French... umm Economics, I think... and some kind of science. Each class is only thirty minutes, so school goes from one pm until four. Trust me, four pm will be your favorite time of day from now on." "So we're done for the day at four?" I ask in a hopeful tone. "You wish!" He guffaws. He stops and leans up against the wall. "You have free time from four until six. You're expected to eat dinner and take care of anything you need to take care of, like shopping or phone calls or email. Then at six, you have your elective classes. "Do you have to take electives?" "Yes indeedy! Let me ask you a question. Have you ever spoken a word of French?" "Nope." "Do you realize you'll be taking a French class with a bunch of kids who have had four years of Franà §ais?" "Oh shit!" A jolt of terror races through me. "What the fuck am I gonna do?" "I dunno, I guess you`re screwed," he says with a mischievous smile, and then starts laughing. "Nah! You'll have to have a French tutor for one of your electives. Trust me, you'll be fine. There are lots of kids in your situation. In regular French class, just try to pick up whatever you can. It won't be much at first. They won't expect much. You'll start from scratch with your tutor, and as long as your tutor knows that you're making an effort, you won't get in trouble. You'll actually get caught up to us in no time. It's just the same stuff over and over, conversational and situational shit. You might think it's useless, but if you can communicate in French, you can handle this city a lot better." "I never thought I'd have this kind of stuff to deal with," I shake my head. I'm overwhelmed. "That's not all! You have TWO electives. You'll be forced to do strength training since you're new and you're a boy. They have to make sure you can do lifts quickly and effortlessly. Again, it won't take you long to get caught up." "Is this all even humanly possible?" "Sure, you'll see it's not so bad when you get goin'. Actually, the electives are fun. You just have to plow through French tutoring and strength training. Then you can take contemporary or lyrical jazz... I think they`re even having hip-hop this year... they usually have some kind of ballroom, too, or you can take the all-boy orgy class..." "Huh?" I ask, wondering if I really heard him. "Dude! Take it easy!" He howls, busting himself up. "You'll be fine. They let you in this place, so they have some faith in you. You just have to have faith in yourself." "I can DO this!" I say, psyching myself up. "That's the spirit! Anyway, the electives are really cool. They're totally no pressure; they're not graded or anything. You can even have one-on-one sessions with instructors during elective time if you`re having trouble with the important classes." "That's cool," I try to breathe again. "Anything ELSE?" "As far as the weekday goes, that's it. Eight pm is the end of your school day. The rest of the night is yours, but it's best to rest on school nights. Do some homework if you're not totally exhausted. Then, you'll have more free time on the weekends." "Ahh, weekends. You mean there's no fucking eight-hour class on Saturday?" "Nope, the weekend's all yours." "I'm gonna need it!" "Now I gotta tell you the REALLY important stuff," Topher says in a low voice, looking around as if he's about to tell me a secret. "We need to find a place where we can talk and no one will overhear us... hmmm." I'm intrigued. "Is there a pool?" "Uhh, yeah..." he laughs again. "There's a pool. That's perfect. Let's go there. No one will bother us." He leads me down several hallways, and he points out the cafeteria. "That's where the scholarship kids eat. The food here sucks shit. The rich kids usually buy their own stuff and fix it in the commons... you know, easy stuff... chicken breast, vegetables, brown rice." "Yuck. I guess I'll be eating at the cafeteria. I'm like, constantly hungry, and even if I had the time to fix myself food in the commons, it wouldn't be enough." "Well, I guess you'll find out sooner or later. No one would eat there unless they were facing starvation. The cafeteria is carb hell... the place where bad little carbs go when they die. If I'm gonna eat carbs, they'd better be really something amazing. Seems like they could dish out something edible with as much money as we pay them. Anyway..." We continue down the hallway, finally ending at a door marked "Basement". Luckily, it's unlocked. We head down several flights of stairs and emerge into the underground pool room. My heart sinks. The pool is completely empty and in terrible shape. "Ohhhh man... what reeks?" I groan, making a sour face. "That, my friend, is a combo of cigarette butts and piss... and probably a side of puke... all fermenting for two months or so. This is where the older kids come down to smoke and drink at night and weekends. They usually stand down there in the deep end cuz it`s out of sight from anyone who walks through that door." "I can't believe anyone could stand to be down here long enough to smoke a cigarette or drink a beer. How can they stand it?" "Smoking dampens your sense of smell and taste, and so does stress." "Is there any chance they'll clean it up and turn it into a pool again? I was counting on there being a pool. There's nothing like a good swim to relax." "I doubt it. When I was a Year-1, the pool was a pool. There was an elective for water ballet or synchronized swimming or some shit like that. It wasn't very popular, so they discontinued it the next year. I don't really know when it happened, but after there was no class here, no one really used it. Everyone was either too busy or too tired to swim. The academy didn't want to pay to maintain it, so they drained it and it became the hangout for the smokers." "So sad," I shake my head. "I'm going to turn this thing into a pool again. I have to have my pool." "If you say so. Let's get out of here. We can talk outside. The smell is worse than I remember." We head out a different exit and up a side staircase and emerge out in the open air from some back door of the building. After we both take a few deep breaths of fresh air, I turn to him with an expectant look on my face. "Okay, here's the really important stuff. I'm telling you this cuz I like ya, so keep that in mind for the future." "Get on with it!" I groan. The pool situation has me crestfallen, and now I'm ready for the tour to be over. "So, like, what are your intentions with this place?" "What do you mean?" "Are you serious about ballet? Is ballet going to be your career?" "Well, I dunno. I'm serious, I guess." I didn't really expect this question, and I'm sure not going to tell him why I'm really here. "I don't know if I'm good enough to join a professional company or anything. I guess I'm here to work hard and find out. I mean, I totally plan on staying for the long haul. I want to make it through Year-6 and graduate and everything." "Good answer, but I'm not interviewing you for a position. Answer my question as if your best bud asked you." "Well, all that is still true, plus I just want to be around other kids like me... ya know?" "Fair enough. If you're really serious about staying till the end, there are three big no-no's that'll get your fine ass kicked out. People think that the hard part is getting in this place. Staying here is actually the hardest part. There are a lot of kids that are no longer here and would've KILLED to be told this on day one, so listen up." "I'm listening!" I stamp my feet on the ground impatiently. "Okay, this place is all about money." "Duh. Every place is." "No, not really. This place used to be about the ballet. They used to love their students and would do anything to help you through your problems. That's not true anymore. They can kick you out for anything, and you forfeit your tuition for the semester. Then they let in your replacement, and that person pays full tuition, and they make double the bucks. When the bigwigs realized that they could do that, and there were always students out there with money, willing to pay, the whole place changed." "That sucks." "Yeah, they'll kick anyone out for anything, even their best students. The double the money thing is too tempting for them to pass up. Everyone`s getting kickbacks, I guess." "So what are the three things?!?" I wrap my hands around his neck and pretend to strangle him. "Okay, this is assuming you know everything you already should. You gotta show progress in your ballet, do what they tell you, get enough to eat, get enough sleep..." "Yeah, yeah." "You might want to take notes. Number one: Stay on top of your schoolwork." He says in a stern tone, and I roll my eyes. "I'm serious. It may sound totally obvious, but it's so easy to get behind, especially when you have your ballet exams or performances or whatever hanging over you. You get one 'woops' per year. That's actually a technical term. It was used by the students, and now the instructors say it, too. A woops is when your grade for a class falls below a B average; that's 80%. Your instructor will give you some way to make up your woops, like a retest or extra credit. If you bring it up, you're fine. If not, you're out. If you have another woops during the school year, you're out. It's like a zero tolerance thing after one woops, so they'll be sure to have several double tuitions paid each semester." "Holy shit." "Yeah, it's really serious. That's why I'm telling you so explicitly. They'll totally fuck up their own academy performances. They'll kick out a fucking LEAD and make a terrible understudy perform the spring production." "Okay, I think I get it. I'll stay on top of my schoolwork, I promise. I'll even do homework on weeknights when I'm exhausted. What's number two?" "Number two is drugs. Have you ever done hard drugs before?" "No. You don't have to worry about that one. Moving on to number three." "Seriously, if you ever get to the point where you're considering hard drugs to cope with something or escape from reality, it's probably best to ask yourself if you should really be here at all. They'll overlook alcohol and cigarettes, as you saw down THERE, but if they find you with anything else, that's an automatic bounce." "Got it!" I sigh. Two down, one more to go. "All right, the last is probably the most important, and the reason that more kids have been kicked out of here than any other. You ready?" "YES!" "Do not, I mean DO NOT... fall in love." "WHAT?!?" "You heard me." "They kick you out for having sex?" "No, no. They don't really care about that. They just pretend it doesn't happen. It's just what love does to you here. It's hard to explain. I guess that it happens too easily. Lots of gay boys around other gay boys for the first time in their lives, and they just go nuts, like a boy buffet... and the girls just prey on the straight boys... more boy buffet. But most kids are just too immature or too dramatic to handle it at this age, especially since we're the artistic kind. Two people in this school fall in love, and immediately, everything suffers: their school work, their ballet, they don't sleep enough, they don't eat right. Say Johnny and Jimmy fall in love. They stay up all night... loving each other, and then, they're late for Pas de Deux. Then in class, Jimmy looks at Joey for a split second too long, and Johnny sulks for the rest of the day... and as a result, he fucks up on his Math test, giving him his second woops, and he's out. Then Jimmy totally loses it and blames himself, and he's out. I swear, it happens ALL the fucking time." "I'm sure there are exceptions." I say. I just can't accept number three. Not yet. "You wait and see. I bet you anything, it will happen this term... probably to someone in Year-5, even!" "But you already told me that Aiden and Kaden are together, and Jeff and Matt have girlfriends, and --" "Ah! So glad you said that. That brings me to my next point. You can have boyfriends or girlfriends without falling in love." "Doesn't it... you know... eventually progress to love?" "Not if you don't let it. Here, boyfriends and girlfriends are for what we like to call... blowing off steam. You get what I mean?" "Uhh..." "BLOWING off steam?" "You mean sucking dick?" "Let's just call it oral sex so we can include our lovely female students." "Eww." "I know... totally," we chuckle. "So let me get this straight. I should get a boyfriend to... blow off steam with, but we should make sure not to fall in love?" "You should make sure that you and your boyfriend both know that school and ballet come first, and basically, you're just using each other... to blow off steam, nothing emotional." "Why do you need a boyfriend to do that? Can't you just blow anyone?" I ask, sarcastically. "An excellent point! Boy, you learn fast. Here are the basics: If you're a straight boy, you have to be actively dating a girl at the academy. That's the only way you're off-limits. If you're a straight boy and you're not dating a girl, you're considered `in play'... to the girls AND the boys. Similarly, if you're a gay boy, and you just want to be left alone and not bothered, you get a boyfriend, and you're both off-limits... or you can do what I do. You can be a free agent and blow off steam with anyone. Then you never have to worry about falling in love or having anyone fall in love with you." My head is swirling again. I can't believe there are all these rules for something so stupid. "Okay, say tomorrow," I begin to postulate, "Jeff's girlfriend dumps him. Are you telling me that you and the other gay boy free agents would all be flirting with him, trying to blow off steam with him, cuz he's `in play`, even though you know he`s straight?" "Jeff? Oh, FUCK yeah!" "WHY?!?" "Do you have any idea how many straight boys have been flipped in this VERY building? It's about as common of an occurrence as a ballerina barfing up her dinner." "So all the boys here are actually gay?" "Not all of them... some are just in the closet, some are in denial, some are clinging to their religion, and so on. Some genuine straight boys that don't have girlfriends are just sexually frustrated, too. They have to be around hot ballet girls and stare at tits and ass all day. If some straight boy can't get a girl to blow off steam with, if he gets horny enough, he might do ANYTHING for a blowjob..." "Like sucking a dick?" "You got it! Although, a lot of them really are gay, or at least bi with a strong preference for cock. It's just... committing your life to ballet... coming to this school, it's not something that appeals to most straight boys out there." "That's what I was hoping." "You got any other questions?" "Uhh, yeah. So if I don't get a boyfriend, you're going to be after me to blow off steam with you?" "Mmmm-hmm." He smiles and licks his lips. "May I... uhh... preemptively decline?" "Sure, but everything changes once the pressures of school start piling on top of you. I swear, being able to blow off steam is something that might save your ass here. After a month or so here, you'll probably be BEGGING me to suck your cock... and trust me, I`m not giving up on you that easily." I try to ignore those last two sentences. "So, do some people fuck, and they consider that blowing off steam?" I don't know why I asked that. "Yeah, it's possible, but fucking likely leads to kissing, and kissing can lead to feelings, and those feelings can lead to love, so most people tend to avoid it. Ooh, I almost forgot. Say, you make hot eye contact in the hallway with some straight boy from Year-6 who`s in play, and you blow off steam with him. If the free agents from Year-6 find out about it, they`ll find you and beat the shit out of you. So if you`re gonna fuck around with other years, make sure no one finds out about--" "JESUS CHRIST!" I can't take this anymore. "Well, I guess I need you to tell me the... status of the Year-5 boys so I can get a boyfriend and be off-limits." "Suit yourself. Let's see, I'm a free agent, The Fons is a free agent," he starts counting the Year-5 boys on his fingers. "Matt is off limits, Jeff is off limits, Aiden, Kaden, off limits, Jayden is in play, he's a possibility for you, especially since he`s your roommate. He REALLY wanted a boyfriend last year. Hutch is the exception to the straight boy rule. He has a girlfriend at home, and he spends all of his free time on the phone with her, so we all just leave him alone... plus he's annoying. Paul is gay and in play, but he's a basket case. He'd probably fall in love with YOU in two seconds if you batted an eyelash at him, then he'd be out, and it would be YOUR fault. I'd just leave him alone. You'll see what I mean when you meet him. Boyd is a straight boy, but he's not dating a girl here, so he's in play. Hmm... that's ten... Logan... gay boy, in play, I guess, but no one can get past his acne problems. Poor guy... that's eleven... ah yes, then, there's Eli... IN PLAY!" "Not for long." 3. I'm in awe, shopping at the Montreal Ballet Supply, which is conveniently located across the street from the academy. Topher suggested yesterday that I kill some time over here, so here I am, on a spree. I have a credit card from my wonderful Aunt Lois for expenses, and I'm sure she wouldn't blink at a fairly hefty charge from a dance supply store. This place is such a regular stop for the academy students that if someone asks you, "Do you need anything from the store?" they mean this place. If you mean the supermarket two blocks down, you have to say, "Supermarchà ©"... so Montreal. I have my arms full of new duds. I'm going to be the hottest ballet boy in this place... assuming that no other boys shop at this store. Oops. Oh well. I can't believe their selection on tights, though. I feel guilty about buying more because I already have so many, but I can't resist. Light blue in extra tall? Score! I hurry back to the academy, hoping I didn't miss the arrival of my roommate. Jayden may be my best hope for a boyfriend of all the boys in my year... unless the straight and "in play" Boyd is gorgeous and is just waiting for some equally gorgeous boy to make him realize what he really wants... but I snap myself back to reality. I need to concentrate on Jayden. Topher didn't have negative things to say about him... maybe he's perfect for me. Oh wait, Topher did say that he's whiny... and can be a bitch. Still, I'm excited to meet him. We're going to be spending a lot of time together, regardless. I lay on my bed, listening to music for what seems like hours until I finally see a shadow on the wall, coming from the doorway. A blond boy staggers in, loaded up with luggage. I'm taken aback at first. Jayden sure is a cutie... if you're into toddlers. I smile nervously, and peer back over my shoulder to the door. Maybe the real Jayden is about to come in, and this is just his little brother, helping him with his luggage. When I hear silence coming from the hall, I turn back to look at him. "Jayden?" I ask. "Yep! You must be Eli!" He reaches his hand out with a beaming smile, and we shake hands awkwardly. "So... you're a Year-5?" I ask, trying to start a conversation. "Yes, I'm sixteen! I'll be seventeen in February!" I obviously touched a nerve because his smile instantly vanished. "Uhh sorry... Wow, you're older than I am," I say, in disbelief. I'm at least three inches taller than Jayden. He still has little boy arms and a little boy face. He has carefully-styled hipster hair, trying to make himself look older, but it's not working. Maybe one day he'll be a hottie... he has potential... and maybe he'll be one of those boys who goes through a remarkable transformation into a hot twink in just a matter of months. But for now, I'm not interested, physically, at least. "That's okay," he runs across the room and jumps on my bed, sitting a little too close for comfort. "So tell me all about Eli!" I give him the basics and start to tell him how nervous I am about starting tomorrow, mostly because of Topher. That name sets off Jayden as if someone lit a firecracker underneath him. "TOPHER and the boys like him can make this place so... fucking... awful..." His face turns red as he's absolutely seething. I can't wait to hear his side of the story. "So are you saying that everything Topher told me yesterday is a bunch of bullshit?" I ask, with a glimmer of hope. "Unfortunately, it's probably... mostly... true. It's just that kids can't just be kids anymore. Everyone's gotta pretend like they're on `Gossip Girl' or something. All day, every day, it's blowing off steam, free agent this, in-play that, off-limits, boyfriends, flipping straight boys... it never ends! I made the mistake of coming out because there were so many other gay guys here, but I didn't have a boyfriend because... I look so young. But that didn't stop them. They constantly hassled me and groped me when no one was looking. Aiden and Kaden were in the same boat with me, but once they said they were boyfriends, they were off the hook. The free agents didn't bother them even though everyone knew they weren't really together. Then, everyone just picked on me, the entire year, even Kaden and Aiden! I had a fucking ulcer! An ULCER at fifteen! But I'm not going to let them beat me. I love ballet SO much. I'm not leaving this place, EVER!" "What would they do to you?" "They'd just torment me, calling me a stupid virgin baby because I didn't want to blow off steam with them. They'd constantly be pawing and grabbing at me whenever they could. I even made a deal with Topher that I'd do some of his homework if he'd leave me alone. It lasted for like, two weeks. He literally couldn't STAND to leave me alone. He had to be all over me. It was like he got off on making me squirm." "Couldn't you tell someone? I thought this place was supposed to be pretty strict." "And be a snitch? That would've made everything even worse. If you`re the reason that someone gets kicked out of here, you`re in deep shit. Plus, everyone else loves Topher, or at least they pretend to... probably cuz they`re all scared of him." "That sounds so awful. I'm so sorry you had to deal with that stuff on top of all the other stresses of this place. So, why don't you and I be boyfriends so we don't have to put up with them?" I feel growing regret with each word that comes out of my mouth. "EEEEEEeeeeeeeee!" He screams, totally nellying out, and tackles me on my bed, hugging me as tight as he can. I nervously pat him. "Hey, hey! This is just so we won't --" "I know, I know," he looks up at me with tears in his eyes. "It's just that I've hoped and prayed for this for so long. I can't believe I'm starting the year off with a BOYFRIEND!" "It's going to be a great year," I wipe a couple of tears off of his face, then realize he might get the wrong idea. "Why don't you... uhh... go sit over there again," I say, pointing to his bed. "Okay, sorry Eli," he slinks back over to sit on his bed with a knowing smile on his face. "What?" "So... you like to wear tights underneath your jeans, huh?" "I... uhh... well, yeah..." I giggle and feel myself turn beet red. No one has ever caught me before. That's probably because no one has ever tackled me and latched themselves to my entire body while I've been wearing tights before. After a few seconds, I muster up the courage to look back over at him. I see him holding up his pant leg, revealing his shin clad in white nylon. We both start giggling. "Let's see yours," he whispers. "I went with black today," I say, hiking up my pant leg. "Here, you can get away with it... just saying that you wear them for extra warmth because of the cold weather... but I just love the way they feel." He caresses his shin a couple of times. I look away because I can feel myself start to get hard. "Totally. So... why don't you tell me what this place is really like? It would be nice to hear some info from someone who isn't Topher." I try to change the subject. "So, what did he tell you?" I give Jayden the short version of what I learned on my orientation tour, concentrating on the big three no-no's. "I don't know if he's just completely wrong or he's trying to distract you from the real no-no." "I knew it." "This is a ballet academy. Ballet is the focus. If they think you aren't progressing like you should, you're gone. I mean, it's not that sudden. You'll be asked to put in extra work in the evenings, and if it still doesn't help... then you'll be invited to leave. This place is supposed to prepare you for getting a contract with a dance company after you graduate. If there's no hope for that, there's no point in you sticking around. During class, though, you have to completely focus on what the instructor is telling you. You have to do exactly what they say, you can't back-talk, and you can't even have your own opinion. If you get the rep as being difficult, they'll all gang up on you, and you'll be gone." "Jeez... there's so many ways to... get GONE." "Yep. I guess he's right about the money thing, but I've never really thought about it that way. I don't know about the higher-up people, but most of the instructors are nice-ish. They want you to succeed, and they're not constantly looking for ways to get you thrown out." "That's a relief. Actually, that's the first positive thing I've heard about this place." "No, no. I don't mean to scare you, at all. If you love ballet, you'll love this place. It totally rocks! Anyway, the academic part isn't as bad as he's made it seem, either. The key is to go to class and pay attention. If you do that, you'll never even have one woops. If you sometimes miss classes, and when you actually go to classes, you're only staring at other boys, passing notes, and whispering about blowing off steam, then you're going to be in danger of a woops." "That sounds a lot like someone I know... err barely know." "Exactly. The assignments aren't hard, and they give you plenty of time. You'll always have a weekend to do them... like you'll never get an assignment on Tuesday and have to turn it in that Thursday... and you'll never have more than two assignments to do over the weekend." "Doesn't sound bad. How `bout French?" "French is a joke!" He laughs. "We never have to write papers or anything. It's just all stuff that might happen living in this city... like ordering at a restaurant or getting a taxi. We just learn how to say stuff and practice it on each other. Last year, we even started repeating some of the stuff we learned in Year 1! The exams are super easy, too. Multiple choice on the stuff we've been practicing. You'll be caught up in no time." "That makes me feel so much better," I breathe a sigh of relief. "What are boyfriends for?" Jayden smiles at me with a twinkle in his eye. Oh shit. * * * I wake up with a groan. Jayden and I had agreed to compromise our morning alarm time. Jayden wanted to get up at 6am. I wanted to get up at 7. We agreed on 6:30. Jayden cheated. He set his cell phone alarm for 6. Now I'm awake. Oh well, I'll have a little extra time to make myself look perfect for my first Pas de Deux class. Jayden takes the first shower, while I cuddle up in my down comforter for a few more minutes. I eventually pry myself out of my warm cocoon and shock myself to life with some cold water to start my shower. That makes me remember how excited I am to begin classes. I quickly finish getting ready and head out for breakfast. As we eat our gross cafeteria food, I notice that Jayden isn't himself... or at least the same person that I met yesterday. He's quiet, subdued, and he won't look me in the eye. I repeatedly ask him what's wrong, but all I get is, "nuthin'". Oh well. If he doesn't snap out of it, who cares? I'm about to put on my academy uniform for the first time. I start to get a tingle just thinking about it. We get back to our dorm room, and I quickly dart into the bathroom, beating Jayden to the punch. I pull on my dance belt first, which serves two purposes. It holds the male dancer's junk firmly in place so that it doesn't flop around during dancing, and it helps to disguise what's inside, which tends to be distracting to other dancers and the audience. I also have a special extra bit of padding from a foam-lined mailing envelope that I slide down inside of my dance belt on each side of my dick. That will do the final bit of disguise in case I get an erection in class, which I fully expect to, more like intend to. I'm going to be looking at ALL of the boys. I can't wait. I stretch on my white tights and pull on my black knee-length tights over them. Damn, I look good. I pull on a tank top that is too small for me because it really shows off my abs. I spend a few minutes making sure my hair is perfect, and I return to my room to put on my new white ballet shoes that I bought yesterday. I catch a glimpse of Jayden in his tights. Man, he's a little more muscular than I thought. I try not to stare because I don't want to lead him on, and I can tell something is still bothering him. Still... damn! "It's 7:55, Jayden. You ready?" "Uhh yeah," he says, as he keeps messing with one of his shoes. "Actually, you go on ahead, I'll be up there in a second." "Fine," I leave him behind with exasperation. What is his problem? He won't even walk with me to class. I head up to Studio B on the third floor. I open the door to a chorus of "Oooh's" and whistling: "WHEET WHOOW!" It takes me a moment to focus on the other students and see who's saying what, as the studio's main wall is a window with the morning sun shining directly in. As my eyes begin to adjust, I'm confused and disappointed to see my entire class, except for Jayden, dressed in what I can only describe as the "homeless dancer" look. Everyone is in torn t-shirts, holey and thread-bare sweats, and the rattiest looking shoes I've ever seen. Also, I'm the only one wearing tights. None of the girls are even wearing tights. It's like they're all trying to look horrible. "Lookeen good, Eeeliiii," the Fons says, looking me over. "Okay, so there's no dress code for classes. So you're hazing me. That's cool and all... but is this how everyone normally dresses?" I hold out my arms and ask no one specifically, hoping someone will answer. "Duh, newbie. You want to be comfortable in class," some girl pipes up. What's the point of ballet if you can't wear tights? I'm so bummed, but I'm not going to let them dictate what I do. Just then, Jayden slinks into the room, having quickly changed into his "homeless dancer" duds. He was just stalling so I would leave and he could change. He walks up to me, holding a familiar garment out to me. It's my favorite pair of warm-ups, which are knee-length cut-off nylon exercise pants. "Here, at least put these on," he says, not making eye contact. "No way! If everyone wants to see me in my tights, that's exactly what they're going to see!" I swat away his hands. "TRUST me. You'll want to put these on!" He hands them to me again, and I grab them and toss them in the corner. "No way, dude. Everyone's going to have to get used to this," I say, strutting around to more whistling. Just then, the instructor enters the room and everyone immediately straightens up and stands by their partners against the wall. I head over by myself to stand against the wall next to them, not really knowing what to do. The instructor, who looks like he's in his 90's, signals for me to join him in the middle of the room, and immediately the giggling and snickering starts. A sinking feeling comes over me, ending in the pit of my stomach. Without any introduction or pretense, the instructor, Monsieur Le Jiere grabs me by the waist and begins to manhandle me, using me as a dummy to illustrate his instruction. I'm the "girl" in this partnership, as he moves my arms, legs and torso around at his will. My disadvantage in the class is growing by the second. I'm already behind the rest of my class, and now, I'm not really learning anything, as he demonstrates the female parts using my body. I try to concentrate, but the handsy instructor makes that impossible. He lets his hands linger on my back, my hips, my waist, and several times, clearly on my ass. My classmates do little to hide their glee, audibly commenting and laughing. I catch a glimpse of myself from time to time in the mirror, my face red with fury and embarrassment. However, Monsieur Le Hands, as I hear his nickname mentioned, seems totally unaffected by my obvious discomfort and anger, and seems to be oblivious to the rowdiness of the rest of the class. He just continues to instruct and fondle, minute after excruciating minute. I try to go to my happy place, but my happy place used to be this school. When I wanted to daydream or escape from reality, I would imagine myself here, but things were a lot different... the biggest discrepancy being the complete lack of cute boys in tights. Still, I try to make myself just get through the class. Eventually, I'm able to tune out my cruel classmates and ignore the extraneous touching, and class ends. I head over to the corner of the room and try to hide the fact that I'm so upset by drinking a bottle of water, and as Monsieur Le Jiere leaves the room, my class erupts in applause. I look around the room, bewildered as a circle of kids forms around me. "Now, THAT was your hazing, Eli," Topher grabs me by the shoulder and shakes me playfully. "How does that asshole get away with that?" I ask. "He's been here forever, and they just ignore any complaints about him because he has such a great rep in the business." "It's sick." That's all I can say, as I start to choke on my words. The last thing I want to do is start crying in front of everyone. "Hell, when I'm a hundred-and-two, I hope I have a job where I can touch ballet boys all the time. I don't blame him a bit!" Aiden speaks up from the crowd. "You handled it perfectly, Eli. You did just what you were supposed to do. Other kids have freaked out when he does that." Maria approaches me with a warm hug, and I begin to feel a little better. "Do I have to go through that again tomorrow and every day after that?" I ask, hoping someone has the answer I want to hear. "Wear your grungiest, loosest clothes and he'll leave you alone," Maria whispers to me. "You'll have a partner soon, and then you won't get singled out very often." "Thanks," I say, wondering what I'm going to do. I don't really have any grungy dance clothes. I love to look good when I'm dancing, and my attire is a big part of what makes my body look good. Maybe I can rip some of my older stuff a little, and maybe I can borrow some stuff from the other guys. The one thing I do know is that my legs will be nice and cozy in a pair of tights, no matter what. I couldn't dance without them. 4. It's my first Friday night of the school term, which means it's my first weekend to kick back a little. The first week has totally dragged, but I got through it. I kept my head above water in ballet and in academics, and I can even speak a few words in French. I don't feel too anxious anymore, but every night, I'm totally exhausted... except tonight! I made some friends, people who seem to really have my back. Maria is totally awesome. She's like the ballet version of my best friend at home, Chelsea. I've fallen asleep in her room three nights this week, just talking, much to Jayden's disappointment. I think he feels abandoned in our room alone at night, poor thing. He's not a great conversationalist, and we quickly run out of things to talk about. The Fons has actually turned out to be totally awesome, too. His loud, flamboyant Puerto Rican personality turned out to be just a faà §ade. He's actually very calm, low key, and a really great guy. He does that voice just to be funny, and he cracks me up all the time. The coolest thing is that he really doesn't like Topher, and just pretends to be a free agent to annoy him. He and some of the other guys lie about blowing off steam so that Topher can't strut around like he's the rooster of the academy. I LOVE it! Friday night is the traditional dance club night for our entire academy. There's an 18-and-up club a few blocks down the street that doesn't serve alcohol, and they let in academy students because they like having lots of good-looking young kids that can dance. It gives them buzz, even if it is jail-bait buzz, and it provides a great release for the students. As soon as I heard about it, I couldn't wait to go. I can bond with my friends and show off my skills, too. Everyone in Year-5 is going except Hutch (no surprise there) and Matt and Jeff are taking their girlfriends, Anna and Beth on a double date. (Yawn!) Still, seven out of twelve isn't bad, and there are going to be lots of Year-6's there, too. I worked just as hard today as I have all week, but I'm not tired at all. I'm totally psyched. I don't mean to sound stupid or immature or anything, but I feel like I'm going to meet HIM tonight. Maybe not officially meet him, but I'm going to make eye contact with him. I feel my new boyfriend is out there, maybe he's in another year at school, or maybe he's a really cute street dancer who frequents the club because he's into ballet boys and wants to sweep one off his feet. He'll eventually be given a scholarship to the school and we'll live happily ever after. Wait, isn't that a movie? Anyway, I just know something's gonna happen tonight! The seven of us finish eating dinner and give ourselves 30 minutes to get beautiful. We're meeting out front of the academy to catch the 7:10 bus, which will take us right by the club. It's too far to walk when it's cold, which it often is, so everyone always takes the bus. I arrive with just a few seconds to spare, and I see the bus approaching. I head out of the front door of the academy, and see Maria and the Fons standing at the bus stop already. I start to run up to them, and a tidal wave of muddy water drenches me, soaking my favorite graphic tee, my jeans, my shoes and my tights underneath. I'm an absolute wreck. I look up from my ruined outfit to see what happened, and I see Topher standing in what used to be the puddle that I'm now wearing. "You look FABULOUS!" He howls with triumph. "You are such a fucking CHILD!" I seethe with fury as Maria and the Fons run up to brush and dry me off, but it's hopeless. "Eli, he's just jealous. He only did that cuz you're gonna be the hottest guy there tonight, not HIM!" Maria tries to kick some water at Topher, who is still cackling, but he quickly avoids it and runs towards the waiting bus. "Let's go get you changed, mister," the Fons puts his arms around me to lead me back inside. "Maria and I will wait for you and the three of us will arrive fashionably late." "No, no, you guys go ahead," I sigh. "I'll be there as soon as I can." "Okay, but hurry," Maria looks at her watch as she grabs the Fons and turns to run for the bus. "There's another number eleven bus at 7:35, and it's exactly six stops that way. You can't miss it!" I watch the bus leave without me, waving at my new friends. I was hoping they would insist on staying with me because my suggestion they go on ahead was just an idle one. However, I can't let this ruin my night. I'm going to get clean, get changed, go to the club, and have a great night. I will look totally hot, and I'll still look hotter than Topher. Revenge can wait. I take off my wet, muddy shoes at the front door of the academy and quietly run back towards the dorms in my socks. It's so strange to see the halls of the Year-5 dorm totally still and deserted, as it's usually so loud and bustling. As I approach the commons, I hear a loud sigh followed by a low moan. I stop in my tracks and slowly creep around the corner. As I peek over to the direction of the noise, my mouth drops open and my heart starts racing. There are two guys on the couch blowing off steam! By the looks of it, they're blowing off some major steam. Holy SHIT! That's Matt and Jeff! My eyes start to adjust to the low light, and I can see them much more clearly now. Jeff is laying on the couch, propped up against the arm with his legs spread apart in complete ecstasy. Matt is laying on his stomach, length-wise down the couch, settled in between Jeff's legs, totally going to town on him, his head slightly bobbing up and down. I feel like my heart is going to beat out of my chest. I've never even seen two guys hold hands or kiss in person before. I stand in complete silence as they have no idea I'm there. I've seen porn before, but this is nothing like porn. Instead of just rhythmically sliding Jeff's cock in and out of his mouth, Matt is clearly making love to the Jeff's cockhead with his lips and tongue. He carefully and passionately slides his lips over Jeff's swollen purple head, and Matt seems to be getting as much pleasure out of the action as Jeff. Occasionally he flutters his tongue around, which Jeff really seems to respond to. I can tell by the way Jeff jerks his head back, closes his eyes and moans. Watching this, I feel the urge to do some moaning of my own. I'd better catch myself before I start. I remember the first time I met Matt and Jeff last Saturday when I was getting my orientation tour with Topher. They totally ignored me when they approached us in the dorm hallway. I mean, neither of them even glanced at me, and I'm a total hottie! These two dudes are completely and hopelessly into each other, and that gives me Goosebumps. Jeff is possibly the hottest guy in Year-5, if you like the stud muffin type. He has the body of a tennis, or possibly, lacrosse player. He has very short brown jock-style hair, and deep brown eyes. I've only seen him smile a couple of times this week, but it almost melted me both times. I don't let myself lust after (alleged) straight boys, but still, no one could help noticing Jeff`s hotness. Matt is more like Topher and me. He's slim and lean, but still a major cutie. He has dark blond hair that he sometimes wears conservatively for ballet, and spiky for academics and outside of class. He has a great sense of style, and he's a great dancer. The most amazing part is that they've totally fooled everyone. They've fooled Topher, they've fooled their girlfriends, and they've fooled me, for sure. I never picked up any gay vibe from either of them, and I certainly never noticed anything remotely vibe-ish between them. They're both able to turn it on and off like a faucet. That's an incredible amount of control for two teenage boys that obviously are so into each other. As hot as this scene between the two of them is, my attention isn`t even focused on the naughty bits. There`s other really sweet things going on, namely with their hands. Matt's left and Jeff's right hand are completely interlocked. Occasionally, Jeff brings their hands up to his mouth to kiss Matt's fingers. However, my favorite part of the hand-holding is that whenever Jeff receives a particularly strong wave of pleasure, or when Matt thrusts his hips into the couch cushion, they squeeze each other's hands with a really sweet display of love and intensity. Also, every once in a while, Jeff runs his fingers through Matt's hair with his other hand. This has so completely eclipsed anything that could be considered "blowing off steam." There is some extreme shit going on here. I'm as jealous as I am enthralled. Suddenly, Jeff arches his back and holds his breath. I start to see some cum leak out around the side of Matt's mouth and trickle down Jeff's hard, veiny shaft. This doesn't faze Matt at all, as he continues his same motions while Jeff goes crazy underneath him. Matt starts to moan slightly as he's clearly enjoying the taste. This is possibly the hottest thing that has ever happened in the history of the world! Now, if only they would kiss... YES! As Jeff's orgasm subsides, he quickly pulls Matt up by the armpits to start the most passionate kiss I've ever seen. I hear stifled giggles between them as Matt grinds his pelvis into Jeff's. I can tell Matt is close as well, just from his movements, and I finally become aware of my own body and realize I'm teetering on the edge, too. I'm already filthy and have to wash these clothes anyway, so I start rubbing my stiff boner against the wall, and come to orgasm just as I'm assuming Matt is letting loose in his own pants, his ass bouncing and thrusting into Jeff's crotch. Even though I'm just a not-so-innocent bystander, this is still one of the most intense orgasms I've ever experienced, but somehow I remain unnoticed and completely silent. While Matt and I separately regain control of ourselves, I start to try to figure out what to do next as Matt collapses on top of Jeff. Their liplock turns into sweet, grateful kissing instead of totally horny and passionate. Their loving chuckles continue as they revel in the knowledge that they've gotten away with doing this, yet again, or so they think. I decide without too much thought that I'm totally getting caught. There's no way I can keep this secret. I'd implode if I had to keep this information to myself. I watch them enjoy kissing each other for a few more seconds, and with a devilish smile, I bite my lip and carefully drop one of my shoes on the linoleum floor. "FUCK!" Jeff grunts as he quickly pushes Matt off of him, and within a half of a second, they leap up and Jeff zips up his jeans, somehow not catching his dick in his zipper. "What the FUCK are you doing here?" Jeff growls at me as he lunges in my direction and grabs me by the shirt, scrunching up the fabric in both of his fists. "Uhh sorry... Topher jumped in a muddy puddle and drenched me! I had to come back to change clothes." I can't help but keep smiling, even though Jeff's face has totally gone pale with fear. "We're just, ya know, blowing off steam," Matt pipes up from behind. "You've heard about blowing off steam, right? It totally means nothing. We're just trying to relieve a little stress n' shit cuz our girlfriends won't put out." "Yeah, it's totally nothing," Jeff lets go of my shirt and starts straightening my t-shirt, which is still wet and muddy, and Matt approaches and does the same. "Look guys... don't insult me or each other with that shit. I may be new and inexperienced in that area, but I saw what was going on, and that wasn't 'blowing off steam'. That was some genuine, hot lovin`. Plus, you realize you're not that convincing when you both have cum breath." I start to giggle, enjoying my little joke. Jeff rears back to throw a punch, and I try to get out of the way. Then, without warning, Matt bursts into tears, which stops Jeff in his tracks, just in time. "PLEASE, Eli, please don't tell anyone!" He sobs into his hands. "I'm so sorry babe. I told you once I get started, I can't stop. You've got to be the strong one and make sure we go back to our room." Jeff hugs Matt and rubs his back, trying to get him to stop crying. "Guys! Guys! Relax!" I pat Matt on the shoulder, trying not to intrude on Jeff's comforting embrace. "I don't know if you know this, but this kind of thing is NO BIG DEAL here! We're at a fucking BALLET academy!" "It is for us!" Matt lifts his head from its cradled position in Jeff's chest. "Or at least it is for Jeff." "What are you talking about?" I sit down on the arm of the couch that I will always associate with the memory of what just happened there. "It's about Jeff's parents," Matt says with a heavy sigh, and Jeff's face returns to pale and fear-stricken. "They both went to this school, and they met and fell in love here. Back then, the male danseur was the epitome of masculinity and... hetero-ness. It was during the time of Baryshnikov, and Jeff's dad was the Baryshnikov of this place. The danseur was an alpha male and he could have any woman he wanted. There were other gay boy dancers, but they were clearly second-class citizens and never were taken as seriously in the ballet world. They were especially looked down on by the hetero danseurs." "This is the twenty-first century. Things have changed," I say, trying to help Matt calm down. "Not for them. The ballet world to them is exactly what it was when they went here. They're still heavily involved in the school, and they know all of the instructors and administrators. They get constant progress reports on Jeff, and they come here to check things out for themselves way too often. They live in New York City, but they won't leave him alone. They're always here." "The worst part," Jeff finally pipes up, "is that they've found religion, too. They have no idea I'm gay, but they've told me several times that if I witness any 'homosexual activity' at the school, that I should report it immediately and have the school eradicate it. They`re totally living on another planet." "Okay, okay!" I have to put an end to their misery. "I promise I won't tell anyone... on three conditions." "Name your price," Jeff says in a low, even tone. "Number one," I say with a flourish, enjoying my new power. "You guys are my friends. That means you have to acknowledge my existence. You gotta include me in conversations, let me hang out with you, and you have to look out for me. You gotta let me know what's going on because I'm clearly not in the loop." "Uhh... neither are we, not that we want to be..." Jeff finally smiles for the first time, realizing I'm not going to make any unreasonable demands. "But consider us friends." I reach out and shake both of their hands. "Number two, you guys have to start wearing tights to class." I raise an eyebrow, and Matt starts to laugh. "Dude!" Jeff rolls his eyes. "I'm unyielding on this. You mean to tell me you guys are gay ballet dancers and you don't like to wear tights?" "I don't mind `em," Matt says, still chuckling, "but Jeff's definitely not a fan." "Don't get me wrong, guys in tights are hot, but I just find them too binding and itchy." "If the three of us are the only ones wearing tights to class, people will know something is up," Matt continues, "especially our girlfriends. They know about Jeff's aversion to tights." "All right, you get a temporary pass on number two. I'm going to try to get some of the other guys to wear tights to class. Once that happens, you two are on the hook again." "Fair `nuff," Matt says, and Jeff nods. I can't wait for that day. I can't wait to see them checking each other's asses out. They won't be able to resist. "What's number three?" Jeff asks with trepidation. "You guys gotta tell me the full story of how you met and fell in love. I mean every single detail!" Jeff groans, but Matt smiles at me. "We can do that." He puts his arm around Jeff's shoulder. "Go get changed and come to our room. We're in number 8." "I'll be there in five seconds!" I run as fast as I can in my socks and wet clothes to my room, strip down, throw on a tank top, some clean sweat pants and some dry socks and tights. I check myself in the mirror, run down the hall to Matt and Jeff's room, and knock on the door. "Eli?" "Yeah, it's me." "Come on in." I walk inside their room, which is plastered with football posters and see them together on one of the beds. Jeff is sitting on the bed, scooted up against the wall with his arms around Matt, who is sitting between Jeff's legs, leaning up against Jeff's chest. My heart skips a beat just looking at them. It's so freakin' awesome to see guys in love, together like this. Matt looks up from his phone and cranes his neck back to look at Jeff. "The girls are running late," Matt says, and they both get a huge smile on their face. After a few seconds, they remember I'm in the room with them, and Matt asks me, "What are YOU smiling at?" "Nothing... I mean, you guys are such a cute couple," I say, feeling my face turn red. Jeff hugs Matt tightly and gives him a kiss on the cheek. Matt looks like he's in heaven, just enjoying being held. "So what do you want to know, Eli?" Matt asks me. There are a million questions I have for them. "For starters, how did you guys get together? I mean, I'm assuming you were both in the closet when it happened cuz nobody knows about you guys." "You have no idea how far back in the closet I was," Jeff shakes his head, "I mean, I was even in total denial about it. My parents had my head so screwed up. I knew I was attracted to guys, but I was convinced that I could do it with girls and live a normal life. Then, last year, when I started at this school, I met my new roommate, Matthew, and it was love at first sight." Jeff hugs Matt again and starts nibbling playfully on his neck. "You liar!" Matt jerks his head back to look at Jeff. "You hated me at first! At least you acted like you did." "I know, but I didn't feel that way. I was just bummed that I was going to have to go through all the stress of this school and be totally jonesin' after my roommate the whole time." "Is that how you felt, too, Matt? I mean, was it love at first sight for you, too?" "I... don't... know...." Matt cranes his neck back again to look at Jeff's face with a scrutinizing smile, and Jeff gives him a sweet kiss on his lips. Damn, I'm getting a boner again already. "Are you serious?" Matt turns back to me, "Have you SEEN Jeff?" "Got it." I really feel like I'm intruding but I don't care. "So when did you guys realize... you know..." Jeff starts to chuckle and lays his forehead down on Matt's shoulder. "Go on..." Matt urges Jeff to continue the story. "I dunno... it was just the way Matt would look at me... the way he would smile, and I could feel I was lookin' at him the same way, too. After a while, I just knew." "Me too, but he's so hunky and butch that I would keep questioning myself." Matt is playing with Jeff's knee, running his fingers over Jeff's jeans. Damn, I can't wait until I can do those kinds of things with my bf. "I decided I had to take the initiative, so I would fake these leg cramps..." "I knew it!" Matt covers his face with his hands. "I would ask Matt to rub my calf when I got a cramp, and NO, ELI, I wasn't wearing tights at the time!" "You could've lied and said you were!" I giggle nervously. "Then the third time I was rubbing his leg," Matt picks up where Jeff left off, "he looked up at me when I was done, and I just knew he was gonna kiss me. So I leaned forward, closed my eyes, and the rest is history." "If you wanna know anything else, you gotta buy the book!" Jeff holds his hand over Matt's mouth and they both start laughing. "That is so awesome, you guys!" I shake my head in amazement. I don't want this conversation to end, so I try to think of another question very quickly. "So... uh... what about your girlfriends? How do you guys handle that whole thing?" I could smack myself. What a terrible thing to bring up. "Sorry, you don't have to answer that." "No, it's cool," Jeff assures me. "The ole' balls `n chains... It's a delicate situation, but everyone gets what they need out of it. I mean, there's absolutely nothing going on with them, of course." "Those girls wouldn't put out for any guy on earth!" Matt chirps in. "Especially Beta!" "Beta?" I ask, and they both start laughing again. "Sorry," Matt continues. "Their names are Anna and Beth, but we call them Alpha and Beta, or more specifically, Girlfriend Model Alpha and Girlfriend Model Beta." I join them in a hearty laugh. I feel so included! "We use them as beards, partly to keep guys like Topher off our backs, and partly so I can have a girlfriend to display when my parents show up." Jeff speaks so matter-of-factly. What a complicated, mature life they must lead. "Would Topher really bug you guys to blow off steam if you were single?" "Yeah, all the time. He takes such pride in flipping straight boys. Last year, he was even harassing Hutch!" Hutch is tall, black, arrogant and about as straight as you can get. He seems to use his texting and phone calls to his girl just as a way to keep everyone else at arm's length. "Hutch would just ignore him, but finally, he had enough. He tripped Topher in the hall, and he landed flat on his face. He had this huge bloody nose. It was awesome." "Oh man! Did anyone take any pictures?" "Nah... As for the girls, they get to brag to the other girls that they have the two hottest boyfriends in their year, and they get to be taken out to a nice dinner once a week, which they never eat." Matt checks his phone again. "Shit, they'll be here any minute." He starts to get up, but Jeff pulls him back for another kiss. "One more question, you guys," I swallow the lump in my throat. "I'm sure you've heard about the `don't fall in love' curse here. What do you think about it? Does it scare you at all?" "That's the first time I've heard it referred to as a curse," Matt turns his attention from Jeff's lips. "We know how to handle ourselves. Plus, being in love is the only thing that makes this school tolerable." "Yeah, don't listen to guys like Topher. They have their ideas of how things are, but situations are different for every person here. Some people let love get in the way of everything. Others let love make everything perfect." Matt leans back for another kiss, and Jeff happily obliges. "I'll get out of here, you guys. Thanks for being so open. It really gives me a lot of hope for the future." I stand up to start to walk out. "Hey Eli," Matt calls back to me, and I turn around to look at them again. "It feels really good to talk about it to someone. I mean, I wanna scream it from the rooftops how much I love this guy, but I gotta keep my mouth shut." "And Eli," Jeff continues. "I'm just gonna pretend from now on that you didn't see my dick, okay?" "Fair enough," I turn red again and run out of the room. I head back to my room to change and get ready for the club again. I feel so amazing and genuinely happy, like I'm the one with an amazing boyfriend. I feel like it's just a matter of time now. I know I've missed the 7:35 bus, and I don't want to wait around for the next one. I decide to get directions to the club from Maria and jog there, even though I feel like I could do back flips down the sidewalk all the way to the club. I eventually make it, and as I walk in, I see Topher trying to hit on some older guy. I walk right up to him, give him a hug and kiss him on the cheek. "Wow, what was that for?" He looks surprised, as he probably expected me to try to smack him. "I can't thank you enough for doing what you did. It really opened my eyes." "Huh?" "I learned something tonight... that you have no idea what's going on at the academy, and you're TOTALLY full of shit."