When Brick looked in the mirror he saw some dummy in tights, not a cavalier. The girl with the bird would think he had fallen off a stupid train. And Mrs. C wouldn’t see his beautiful arches, only his bulging belly. The tights had to come off. Now! Brick hooked his thumbs under the waistband and pulled. SNAP! A thousand rubber bands stung his middle, causing Brick to lose his balance. With a yelp, he tumbled to the ground and landed on his bottom, a tangle of feet and black spandex. He pedaled his heels back and forth, rolled on his stomach, yanked and grabbed and cursed, but the tights held on. Got ya! Not letting go until you say 'Brick's a booger face!' They seemed to mock. Tights. Are. Evil! Brick lay on the floor like a deflated balloon. A boy trapped by his tights on the floor of a ballet school.
Rachel writes contemporary realistic fiction novels for the middle grades. Her books depict suburban family life in a post 9-11 world. No unicorns required.
Ballet for Bullies