Notti pushed through the detention classroom door, the first to leave. He stalked down the empty hallway, sneakers squeaking on the tile. Reaching a row of lockers, he stretched and snatched his backpack from where he’d tossed it that morning, too annoyed to lug it around all day.
He slung the bag over his shoulder, and a faint melody reached his ears. He paused, tilting his head. Soft and orchestral, it was utterly out of place in the quiet school halls. A frown creased his lips. Who would be playing music at this hour?
Curiosity outweighed his desire to escape, and he followed the sound, his steps quieter now until he reached the theater. One of the heavy double doors was cracked open, spilling light and music into the hall. He hesitated, then nudged it wide enough to slip inside.
The door’s hinges groaned loudly in the vast space. Notti froze, wincing at the noise. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he saw the auditorium was pitch black except for the stage, where a single girl danced under the work lights.
He recognized her—in the way you recognize someone you pass every day, without really *seeing* them. She was usually quiet and inconspicuous in the crowded halls, but here, she was different.
She wore a simple black leotard and a pale pink wrap skirt that swayed with her movements. Her hair pulled back in neat braids, she moved with a quiet confidence, balancing on the tips of her scuffed pointe shoes as if weightless.
The music came from a small portable speaker on the edge of the stage, near a gym bag and a phone. But his entrance broke the spell. The door’s creak made her stop abruptly, her body still as her head turned toward the sound.
“Hello?” she called out, her voice soft but laced with caution. Her eyes scanned the dark rows of seats, but didn’t seem to settle on anything.
Notti remained silent, a strange hesitation gripping him. It was the way her gaze swept past his hiding spot without registering his presence that kept him pinned.
“Is someone there?” she called again, her voice firmer this time.
Still, he didn’t move. He wasn’t trying to be creepy, but something about the situation held him in place.
When she received no response, the girl walked to the speaker and paused the music. The sudden silence felt heavy. She stood listening for a long moment, completely still. Finally, she took a few cautious steps toward the edge of the stage.
“If someone’s there,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, “could you please just say something?”
Notti’s jaw tightened. He felt a sharp pang of guilt, yet he was captivated. He’d seen people dance before, but never like this.
After another moment of silence, she sighed softly and turned back. She pulled sweatpants and a sweatshirt from her bag, slipping them on over her leotard. As she gathered her things, Notti decided it was time to go.
He backed out of the doorway as carefully as he could, but the door betrayed him with another groan. He heard her gasp and knew her head had snapped toward the sound again.
Once he was safely in the hall, Notti exhaled, realizing he’d been holding his breath. He readjusted his backpack and started walking, but he couldn’t shake the image of the girl on the stage, moving as if the music was a part of her. He didn’t know her name, but he knew he wouldn’t forget what he’d seen.