Lesson in Street Savoire Faire;;; Jack Dawkins

[lil]

The summer ended far to quickly for Al's standards. But, even the usual tomboyish dance teacher found it comforting to be back in a familiar setting. A smile flickered across her lips, her messy ebony locks pulled back into her usual lopsided ponytail as she started up the front stairs of the Arts building. Her summer hadn't been excellent, but it wasn't horrible either. She spared a trip back home to the Bronx. It was oddly foreign to walk through streets she knew like that back of her hand. Alleyways and cut through. Her favorite shortcuts for a quick escape. Ah yes, that was the life. Al made no secret of it. In fact, she was proud of it. She was a street kid through and through. Born and raised. She was streetwise to the core and didn't let anyone speak down to her about it.

The cool blast of air buffed her face as her hand curled around the door handle and pulled it open. The trucker cap that graced her head sat backwards, as per-usual. Al wasn't like the other teachers of the school. She didn't find it comfortable to wear suits, or skirts to class. And being the dance teacher that was understandable. And today was no different. An overly large dark hoodie hid her surprisingly well toned body, no doubt due to the years of dance practice. With black sweat pants and a dark blue tank top, Al looked better suited for a gym then a class. But, it was early yet. Class wouldn't start for another few hours. Perfect time to get her own stretching and dance routine in.

Al's footsteps walked with an easy and confident gate. She stopped for a moment, eye catching something. A lone bag left unattended in one of the studios. She bit down on her lip, finger tips rubbing together slightly as she fought back the urge to take a quick peek. "No. Those days are done"

[/color] She spoke to herself in a matter of fact tone before giving a sharp turn and starting toward her favorite dance studio.

The walls were covered in mirrors, in one corner sat a keyboard perfect for when she had live music to dance to. She dropped her dance bag against the wall beside the door, which she left open just a crack. Al's footsteps brought her toward the far window and she quickly propped it open to let in some air.

After all was said and done, Al felt ready. After all, she couldn't dance within a uncomfortable room. She shed her hoodie, dropping it across the seat of a chair before dipping her hand into her bag she retrieving a CD which she promptly placed within the player.

Al took a seat on the floor and stretched. Her muscles protesting slightly at the renewed exertion they were about to go through. "Tell the kids ta' practice durin' the summer. But do I, pfft" The teacher mumbled to herself before standing and executing a few simple moves before starting on her routine.[/blockquote]

[dodger]

( WHEN I SEE YOUR SMILE )
tears roll down my face , i can't replace

[/color]
NOW THAT I AM STRONG , I'VE FIGURED OUT
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Jack sighed, rolling his neck as he started to grumble in annoyance. That was the LAST time he ended up falling asleep on the couch only to roll off and fall to the floor halfway through the night. He really needed to stop being hungover the day before school started. Stupid school. He didn't even attend classes anymore! Why even go?! Oh yeah, he teaches. Oh failure. His summer was far from exciting other than the bunch of girls he'd hooked up with when he went home to New York for a week or two in July, but otherwise he had been bored shitless.

Wandering towards the arts building, Jack tugged at the collar of his shirt, slightly annoyed that he was forced to wear this stupid monkey suit, but he couldn't very well dress the same way he did the year before or he'd be fired. He was the music teacher! He wasn't allowed to dress like the students would after school. (Though, that's how most of his clothes were) and so here he was. John William Dawkins walking around in a monkey suit. Who'd have thought?

Catching sight of the unattended bag in the studio, Dodger bit his lip, the gears in his mind turning around as he contemplated taking the bag, but then he shrugged, pulling his own bag to a more comfortable position on his shoulder and continuing on.

Taking a sharp turn into Rita's dance studio, Dodger made his way towards the piano bench and sat down, smirking as he watched Rita dance. Times like these were some of the best between him and his best friend. Together with Rita and the boys around town (some of them teachers at this school) they were "The Gang". The best band of friends ever to be seen in Memory. Maybe it was just because of the spirits they possessed, but it felt like there was something missing. It feels like someone in their little gang of misfits wasn't with them.


"Well, well, well Rita. Nice moves ye got there," Dodger winked, smirking at her a bit. He hadn't seen her or the rest of the gang in a few months, so he was going to do his best at reconnecting. "How was your summer, Fancy Feet?"[/color]
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
( TAGGED ) ( Rita )
( NOTES ) ( Sorry if it's not so good! )
( WORDS ) ( 389 )
( LYRICS ) ( GUARDIAN ANGEL - RED JUMPSUIT )
( LISTENING TO ) ( tv. xD )
( GRAPHIC BY ) ( RORA @ HOS[/b] )
( CREDIT TO )( RORA @ HOS[/b] )[/center][/size][/size]

[lil]

The song slowly came to an end, the last note drifting into the silence, the last step placed perfectly, as per-usual. Al took a moment to slow the rapid pace of her heart. Dance was as ingrained within her as the streets. It was a passion, and that was hard to miss. How many people could say they actually had a job that was their passion? A fair few at best. At least as far as she knew. The ending pose was held for a few moments before the teacher relaxed her stance with a smile.

A breeze drifted in through the open window, dancing across the room and bringing with it a very welcomed relief. She made her way across the floor, a caramel tone hand coming up to brush away the few wayward strands of her ebony hair as she bent over her dance bag and fished out a bottle of water. On the action of straightening up is when she heard that familiar voice. Her students called her Ms. Haynes. There was only one person that called her 'Rita'. "Dodge..."

[/color] The smile clear in both her voice and on her lips as she turned to face him, her partner in crime, one could say.

There was nothing like meeting up with your best friend again. And since they were so few, Al was grateful to have him around. Perhaps it was the spirits within them that allowed for that closeness. Either way, she wasn't complaining. It was nice, to say the least. "Thanks. Ya' know I always hafta' work on my moves. Ina' manner of speakin' " [/color]. The teacher hadn't pick-pocketed anything during the last school semester, and was feeling a few withdrawals. And thus, this summer saw a honing of the skills as it were. Wasn't anything to major. A snatched bit of fruit from a fruit seller. Perhaps a snatched dollar or two.

Rita sauntered over to the piano, water bottle held within one hand as she leaned against the wall beside the bench. "Eh. Summer was a'ight. Went back to the Bronx fo' a few weeks. Kinda' nice seein' ole' stompin' grounds, ya' know?"[/color] The water was brought to her lips as she took a small swig, dark brown eyes scanning across the expanse of the room for a moment before dropping her gaze back onto her friend. "How 'bout ya'? Did the famous Dodger git' into some trouble or was he a good boy durin' the summer?"[/color] Rita joked, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth as she slid down the wall to rest on the floor, knees bent lazily up toward her chest.[/blockquote]

[dodger]

( WHEN I SEE YOUR SMILE )
tears roll down my face , i can't replace

[/color]
NOW THAT I AM STRONG , I'VE FIGURED OUT
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Dodge..."

"Hey theah, miss me?" he snickered, giving her a wink once again. Watching her closely from his perch on the piano bench, where he usually belonged, Dodge took in every move she made. Sure he and Rita used to be an item way back when, but it seems it wasn't in the cards. Sure he'd like to go out with her again, but there was something tugging at him like a tether that was put between him and some other person. Maybe it was this darn spirit of his acting up. He wished he could ask the Dodge who it was, but he had a feeling that not even the mutt knew.

"Thanks. Ya' know I always hafta' work on my moves. Ina' manner of speakin' "

Jack chuckled lightly, shaking his head in amusement. "O'course. You wouldn't be Rita otherwise," he answered, shrugging a bit as he continued to watch her. He could see her get a little antsy. It was like this when Rita hadn't pick-pocketed in awhile. Jack had to admit that it happened to him at times, but it was times like that when he would go to his piano and crank out a fast-paced piece to make the jitters go away. He had been clean from his pick-pocketing ways for a few months now.

"Eh. Summer was a'ight. Went back to the Bronx fo' a few weeks. Kinda' nice seein' ole' stompin' grounds, ya' know? How 'bout ya'? Did the famous Dodger git' into some trouble or was he a good boy durin' the summer?"

"Bit of both actually," he smiled, shaking his head with a smirk. "Gettin' a little bored with all th' girls throwin' the'selves at me in ol' New York. Gets a bit tirin' when I'm always 'spected to perform y'know?"[/color]
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
( TAGGED ) ( Rita )
( NOTES ) ( blahhhhh )
( WORDS ) ( 325 )
( LYRICS ) ( GUARDIAN ANGEL - RED JUMPSUIT )
( LISTENING TO ) ( tv. xD )
( GRAPHIC BY ) ( RORA @ HOS[/b] )
( CREDIT TO )( RORA @ HOS[/b] )[/center][/size][/size][/font]