by Amy Sparling
“I wanted to talk on social first!” Abby says, her eyes going wide. “He’s like, way too hot to talk to in person.”
“Instead of stalking him on social media, why not talk him into dancing in my class?” I tell her.
She startles when she realizes I’ve been listening to their conversation. Her cheeks turn bright red. “I don’t think anyone can talk him into dancing,” she says. “I mean, you’re the Officer and he ignores you.”
“Don’t remind me,” I say with a groan.
I head into the dance room, trying not to let this annoy me so much. I mean, I get it. Liam is totally hot. Probably the hottest guy in school. But he’s an ass. He’s flirty and cocky and refuses to do one little thing. It’s not like anyone would care if he danced in class with the other twenty girls in here. They’d all think it was awesome and would be begging me to teach salsa or something so they could take turns dancing with him.
When he first walked into class that third day of school and he was wearing black dance clothes, I was so excited. I thought for sure that I had changed his mind, that my talk with him in the hallway had convinced him to help me pass the class. But the wardrobe change is all he did. He’s a selfish ass, and yet all the other girls can’t stop swooning over him. They act like he’s the greatest thing to ever walk into this school and I hate it. It’s easy to swoon over a guy when your grade doesn’t depend on it.
Nothing changes in class today. Liam comes in wearing his dance clothes and then sits on the floor and listens to music on his phone. I turn up our warmup music extra loud in the hopes that it’ll make his music impossible for him to hear. When we do the warmup, I try to lose myself in the movements, releasing my stress with each stretch. There was a time in my life when I adored dance, and that all fell apart the moment Liam stepped into my classroom. Now it’s a chore that I have to deal with every day. I want to pass this class. I want to prove my leadership abilities and have the best dance at the homecoming pep rally next month.
All seven of Mrs. Johnson’s dance classes put on a dance at the pep rally. The music and choreography is entirely up to that class’s Officer, and the entire school votes on the best dance. The winner gets a $1000 college scholarship from Emma’s Dance Academy. Since everything about college is expensive, I need all the little scholarships I can get, in addition to needing large ones. This is important, and I’d spent all summer thinking I’d have the perfect dance for the pep rally. Now I’m not so sure. Without Liam’s participation, it won’t matter.
After the warm up, I move the class into practicing their chasses in diagonal lines across the floor. I keep thinking of ways to go over to Liam and ask him to try out a chasse. Even one. I could beg him to just do one and then quit if he doesn’t like it. Mrs. Johnson would have to give me credit for getting him to try. But every time I look over there, I see him looking right back at me. I always look away, too afraid to make the eye contact last for more than a second.
By the time the bell rings, I’ve wasted the entire class trying to get the courage to talk to him. I don’t know why he’s so intimidating. Maybe it’s because so much is at stake for me. Or maybe it’s that cocky grin he gets every time we see each other. His hotness level is definitely something that makes me weak in the knees, and I totally hate him for it. I’m an Officer now, and I’m supposed to be confident, a leader, and professional. He turns me into goo.
He’s taking his time packing up his stuff today. Normally, he’s out the door the second the bell rings, but today he’s hanging back. He glances at the two girls who are talking to Mrs. Johnson in her office, and it’s almost like he wants them to leave. Does he want to be alone with me?
My toes tingle when he meets my gaze across the room. “Asha,” he says, with a slight nod of his head.
I try not to care. It’s the first time he’s talked to me since that second day of school. My throat goes dry. “Yeah?” I say.
He moves his hands in a downward gesture toward his body. “Like my dance clothes?”
I hold my chin up. “Dance clothes? I just see regular clothes.”
“These are dance clothes. It’s exactly what you said I should wear. I thought you’d be happy about it but you’ve been ignoring me for two weeks.”
“Those aren’t dance clothes,” I say. He steps a little closer to me as we inch out the doorway and I catch the scent of his cologne. Immediately I wish I hadn’t. He smells as sexy as he looks. I swallow. “For clothes to be dance clothes, you have to actually dance in them.”
He laughs. “Fair enough. But I’m doing this for you. So you’ll get a passing grade.”
I shake my head. “The clothes are only part of it. You have to actually put forth effort in the class, Liam. Even just doing the warm up with us would help.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets. As we walk, I can see girls staring at us. Some are curious, some are annoyed that I’m walking with Briggs High School’s hottest sophomore. “How about this,” he says, turning that sexy grin on me. “You go on a date with me and I’ll do the warm up.”
My heart lodges in my throat. Is he actually asking me out?
No way.
There’s no way.
He’s just being his typical jerk self. If I say yes, he’ll probably laugh in my face. I pretend I’m not the least bit fazed by what he just said. “That’s extortion.”
“No…” he says, his voice like honey. While he walk, he bumps into my arm with his arm, his hands still in his pockets. There’s something weirdly intimate about the touch. “It’s not extortion. It’s just me trying my luck with a pretty girl.” He clears his throat. “Trying, and failing.”
Oh my God. Is this real? It can’t possibly be real. He watches me so intently I forget to breathe.
“So…” he says. “Are you considering it?”
“If I go on a date with you, you’ll participate in class?” I say.
He shrugs. “I said I’ll do the warm up. Not the dancing.”
It’s better than nothing, I guess. “Is that a promise?”
He grins. “You’ll have to go out with me and see for yourself.”
As much as I want to say yes, I can’t. It feels like a trap. There’s no way Liam likes me. If he did, he’d already be participating in class just to make me happy, right? That’s what guys do when they like a girl. No, Liam is either pranking me in a very rude way, or maybe he thinks he can get lucky or something because I’m desperate to pass this class.
Well, I’m not going to be the butt of his stupid joke.
“Forget it,” I say, trying to act strong even though I totally don’t mean the words I’m about to say. “I’d rather fail the class than go on a date with you.”
Chapter 6
Liam
It’s so stupid, I know. It’s completely pathetic of me. But the more Asha ignores me, the harder I’m crushing on her. There’s something really sexy about a girl who doesn’t throw herself on me. I guess it’s because I’m new, and that makes me interesting in this small town, but several girls in this high school have already made it very clear that they’re interested in me. Some more than others.
I’ve been asked for my Snap more times than I can count, and I’m always met by this disappointed pout when I tell them I don’t have one. The truth is that I do have a Snapchat account, but I only use it to talk to my little cousins who are obsessed with the app. I’m not a big fan of social media. I think it brings more drama than happiness to people’s lives, yet everyone is obsessed with it.
That’s another thing I like about Asha. She’s hardly ever on her phone. I’ve only seen her check it a couple times in class, and it’ll just be for a second, like she’s checking the time or something. All the other girls in this school are practically glued to their phones. They spend more time communicating through social media than they do in real life. That’s just weird. I like talking to people, not devices.
We’re in English class when this girl named Gina starts talking to me. T
here aren’t assigned seats in this class, so I’ve managed to slowly sit closer to Asha each day. Today I’m to the left of her, and Gina is sitting in front of me. A few days ago, I sat behind her and told her good morning and she just rolled her eyes and ignored me. I don’t know what I should do to get her attention and to make her see that I’m not the jerk she thinks I am.
This Gina girl has asked me for my Snap before, and she’s always finding little reasons to talk to me. I get it. She likes me. But I wish girls would just come out and say it instead of beating around the bush about it. But then again, maybe not. Gina is cute and all, but she’s a junior and I’d feel weird dating an older girl. Plus she’s not Asha. Plus, she tries way too hard.
She turns around and places both of her hands on my desk. “I forgot my red pen,” she says, dipping her lips into a frown. “Do you have one I can borrow?”
Mr. Emerson makes us grade our own quizzes each week by switching papers with someone and using red pen. He’s very strict about the red pen thing, which is why I found one in my house and bring it with me every day. I hold it up. “I only have the one, but we can share.”
Gina puts her hand on top of mine. “You’re the best.”
In the corner of my vision, I see Asha glance our way, and I seize the opportunity to get her attention. “You think so?” I tell Gina in a flirty voice. “Some people seem to think I’m a jerk.”
Gina’s eyes widen like it’s the craziest thing she’s ever heard. “No way. You’re totally sweet.” She smiles sweetly, her hand still on top of mine. “Your only flaw is that you don’t have Snapchat so we can’t talk at school.”
I lean forward a bit. “We’re talking right now.”
She gushes. Absolutely gushes. “Yeah, but … we could talk more if you got Snap.”
I glance over at Asha, hoping she looks jealous of this little exchange. But she’s not even looking at us anymore. Dammit.
***
I’m sitting at home playing Xbox and wondering what I could do to make Asha like me, when my brother calls. Jax is a freshman in college, and he’s currently living in the dorms at Texas A&M, having the time of his life. Sometimes I can’t wait to graduate high school, but then he’ll tell me about his course load and I wonder if I’m really all that ready for college. After I listen to him gripe about his chemistry class, he asks what’s going on with me. I heave a sigh, wondering if I should tell my brother this embarrassing ordeal or just keep it to myself. He’s always been my best friend, and he’s my brother so I know I can trust him not to ridicule me.
Plus I could use some advice…
I go ahead and tell him about Asha, and my ridiculous crush on the girl. I leave out exactly how gorgeous she is, because if I start talking about that, I could go on forever. But I tell him the gist of it.
“So what’s the issue?” Jax says. “You like the girl, so ask her out.”
“I technically already did ask her out.”
“What’d she say?”
I sigh. “She said she’d rather fail her class than go on a date with me.”
“What does failing a class have to do with anything?” he asks.
“Well… she seems to think she’s going to fail dance class because I refuse to dance.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Yeah, I don’t either.” I lay back on my bed and run a hand through my hair. “She’s the class Officer and thinks it’s like her responsibility, or whatever.”
“Oh man,” Jax says. “That’s actually a big deal. There’s only like one Officer per class, and they have to demonstrate leadership and stuff. I remember that from when I was dating Jacie in high school. Her grade does depend on the other people in the class, bro.”
“Seriously? That’s so stupid!”
“Yeah, it is, but if she made Officer, she’s probably very serious about getting into college and stuff.”
“So you’re saying the whole reason I can’t get the girl of my dreams to date me is because of a stupid dance class?”
“No, I’m saying you can’t get the girl of your dreams to date you because you’re stupid.”
I groan. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Uh, dance?” he says with a snort. “It’s literally in the name of the class. I don’t know why you’re so dumb.”
“Dude, I’m not dancing,” I say. “It’s a class of all girls, and I have like, no dance skill whatsoever.”
“She’s not graded on your God-given dance talent,” Jax says. “She’s graded on how well her students listen to her. If you want her to like you, you need to dance.”
I shake my head furiously. Just the thought of doing those silly dance moves brings heat to my cheeks. No way. Not happening. “Maybe there’s another option,” I say, thinking out loud. “I’ve got their dances memorized by now because I’ve seen it so much. I even know the names of the dance moves. Maybe I can offer to do like an essay or something. Or recite the dance moves in order to prove I know the choreography instead of dancing to it.”
My brother laughs. “That’s creative. It might work.”
The more I think about this idea, the better it is. I mean they have to have some kind of alternative way to get a good grade in that class. What if one of the girls fell and broke a leg or something and couldn’t dance for the rest of the semester? They wouldn’t fail her… they’d give her another way to earn credit.
Maybe this will work. Maybe my new idea will make Asha happy because she won’t be in danger of failing anymore. I go to bed with this idea on my mind. If it works out, then I also won’t be in danger of failing the class. I’ve never actually failed anything before and I know my parents would be pissed if I did, even if it was a stupid dance elective. So this idea might work out for everyone.
And then maybe, finally, Asha will go on a date with me.
Chapter 7
Asha
I stare at Liam, trying not to get lost in his golden eyes. This is not the time to be thinking about how crazy cute he is. I’m not sure there’s ever a time for that. He’s giving me this pleading look, like maybe he really cares about something for once in his life. It’s lunchtime, and we’re standing near the pizza line, and he just told me the craziest idea.
He thinks he can write an essay and recite the dance moves as an alternative to dancing so that he’ll pass the class and I’ll get credit as Officer. It’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, but I guess it’s nice that he’s trying. It’s better than him sitting on the floor listening to music during class.
I bite my lip, not knowing what to say. He’s still watching me, waiting for my reply. “I’ll talk to Mrs. Johnson about it,” I say. “I’ve never heard of anything like this so I don’t know if it’ll work.”
“It has to work,” he says. “There has to be an alternative assignment for students who get injured and can’t dance or something, right?”
I lift an eyebrow skeptically. “Not really. When people get hurt, they usually just sit out until they’re better and can dance again. Besides,” I say, giving him a pointed look. “You are not hurt. You’re perfectly fine.”
He shrugs. “I’m dance-challenged. My body doesn’t dance.”
I roll my eyes. “Your body is fine.”
“Why thank you.” He gives me cocky grin and I immediately realize what I just said.
“That’s not what I meant!” My voice is way too high, and I can feel my cheeks reddening. And now that I just said it, I can’t stop looking at his chest, his muscular arms… his tall build. Oh gosh. Cool it down, Asha.
“Please, Asha.” Liam’s words make my breath catch in my throat. There’s a seriousness behind his eyes, and he’s watching me with real sincerity. He means it. He hopes this crazy idea of his will work.
I swallow. “I’ll talk to Mrs. Johnson.”
He gives me the most adorable smile ever. “Thanks.”
***
During homeroom, I get a hall pass and make my way down to the dance room t
o talk to Mrs. Johnson. I’m feeling pretty confident about this plan that Liam devised. I’ll explain that he’s a guy and there’s never been a guy in dance class and we should just make him do several essays or worksheets or something to make up for it. This will be totally fine.
Mrs. Johnson gives me a smile when she sees me. “I’m glad you’re here,” she says, setting down her coffee. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
“Oh really?” I say, taking a seat in the worn out chair next to her desk. “What’s up?”
Her face falls a little. I know she likes me, but right now it’s like she’s about to talk to a bad student instead. “The homecoming pep rally dance is in five days.”
I nod, because obviously I knew this. “My choreography is done and I’ll be teaching it to the class starting today.”
“Honey, you know that this dance is your first major exam grade, right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say. A shudder of apprehension rolls through me. Why is she saying it like that?
“If you don’t have one hundred percent participation, the highest grade you can get is a 70. And that’s only if your dance is stellar.”
I look down at my hands as my heart fills with dread. “You’re talking about Liam?”
She nods. “You got him to change clothes but he hasn’t participated at all, and I’ve been watching you. You don’t push him.”
“There’s not much I can do,” I say defensively. She’s acting like I haven’t tried at all. “I’ve told him it’s important and he still won’t dance. But he actually has a good idea that I came here to ask you about.”
She listens while I detail my conversation with Liam from earlier. I think I’m doing a pretty good job of proving how he can do written work to prove he’s learned dance vocabulary and all, but she presses her lips together.