Eyes on Me

by Rachel Harris

  My back teeth clicked as my hand clenched around Stone’s.

  I’d thought those were smaller steps.

  “Try not to anticipate what’s coming next,” Marcus advised a few minutes later. “And don’t worry so much about your feet, either. Look at your partner instead and let him and the beat be what leads you.”

  I snorted under my breath. That was easy for him to say. Marcus was a guy. They didn’t have to depend on someone else to get the moves right. It’s what drove me so crazy. Unlike in school, it didn’t matter if I knew what came next, or if I was the best salsa dancer this side of the Rio Grande. I still had to wait for Stone.

  What if he messed up? What if he forgot the step, huh? Then we were both screwed.

  Who decided on this archaic, patriarchal system anyway?

  Stone squeezed my hand, and I grudgingly raised my head. “You’ve got a thing for control, don’t you?”

  I growled in annoyance, because cute or not, he was making my patience run low. He widened his eyes with a laugh.

  “Whoa, down girl, I’m not judging. Quarterback, remember? I need to be in control of what happens on the field. But that need is what’s messing you up. You’re so worried about what step comes next that you’re sabotaging yourself. You’re too in your head.” His dimple flashed as he ducked down and looked me straight in the eyes. “I know it sounds wrong, but to dance well, you have to give up control.”

  Sucking my teeth, I drilled him with my stare. The hot guy was officially starting to crunch my toes—and not in the way I’d been crushing his. The thing was, Stone didn’t know me. We’d spent one hour together—one—a week ago, and we’d spent most of it dancing, not talking. Now he was some sort of expert on my headspace? Please.

  Of course, the fact that he was probably spot-on in his assessment was irrelevant. He wasn’t the instructor here; Marcus was.

  As if he were reading my thoughts, the man in question snapped his fingers. “I’ve got an idea. Lily, close your eyes.”

  I stopped dancing altogether. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Close your eyes,” Marcus repeated, a hint of humor sparking in his own, and I shook my head incredulously.

  “Yeah…see, I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I’m already a klutz with my eyes open.”

  His full lips quirked. “Trust me. Or rather, trust him. I think Stone’s onto something. Rhythm isn’t the problem here. You’re ahead of the beat because you’re too in your head. Closing your eyes will force you to use your other senses, like the feel of his hand guiding you, to know when to move. It’s a trust exercise.”

  I hung my head. If there were a white flag around, I’d wave it, too. I failed to see how losing the sense of sight would miraculously make my feet find the beat, but at this point, I was willing to try anything. Especially if it got them both to stop staring at me.

  Only thirty more minutes.

  With a tired sigh, I shut my eyes…and immediately felt stupid. “Okay, now what?”

  “Now we dance,” Stone said, his rich voice somehow sounding deeper in the dark. He lightly squeezed my left hand, guiding me, and I hesitatingly stepped in that direction. He repeated the action on my right, and I followed suit, avoiding his toes and further mention of my King Kong–sized feet.

  So far so good, I guessed.

  He cleared his throat. “What did you think of last night’s game?”

  My eyes opened so I could roll them. “What could that possibly have to do with salsa?”

  “Nothing,” he replied with a smile. “Close your eyes.”

  I blew out a breath of annoyance and shut them as instructed.

  “It’s called distraction, Miss Control Freak, and besides, I’m genuinely curious. What did you think of the final play?”

  I shrugged, rocking my body to the right. “I wouldn’t know. I didn’t see it.”

  “Didn’t you go to the game?”

  “Nope, I was home studying.”

  Stone grunted, like he was shocked I hadn’t been in the stands with the rest of the town, watching him in the tight pants Sydney loved so much, and I chuckled. “No, it’s cool. It’s just the Knights are one of our bigger rivals. I figured everyone was there. You have a big test on Monday?”

  I snorted. “Uh, actually, I do, but that’s not why I didn’t go. Believe it or not, QB, not everyone is obsessed with pigskin. To be honest, I haven’t been to a game since the first one freshman year.”

  The pressure on my hand went slack for two whole seconds. My feet froze, and Stone retightened his grip, his voice sounding utterly confused. “The Tigers are state champions. Friday night lights are like a high school rite of passage, especially in Texas. Do you have a job or something?”

  I cracked open an eye. “I tutor during the week, if that’s what you mean, but not at night. I study and do homework.”

  “Both eyes closed,” he reminded me, distracted now and no longer smiling.

  I fell into darkness with a huff.

  Stone was quiet for a few more counts, letting my revelation sink in. Then he asked, “Do you ever just let loose? Like at all? Do you ever go to parties, or dances, or anything?”

  “I’m not a freaking robot,” I replied, feeling my skin grow hot for a new reason. “I read, I hang out. But mostly, yeah, I focus on school. That’s what these years are supposed to be about. Parties and football games would just distract me.” Rocking in place, I scowled and frostily added, “If it makes you feel better, I’ll be sure to attend a few ragers at Harvard.”

  When he didn’t reply or say anything else, I assumed I’d stunned him into silence. Or pissed him off with the “rager” comment. For that, I felt a bit guilty, but he was the one judging me for not fitting his standard. I mean, in a way, I understood. Stone Torres was the king of Brighton High. It was no surprise we didn’t see eye to eye. The things I thought were trite and silly were probably a big deal for him, and hey, more power to him. Football could be a ticket to college, and he should grab hold of that with both hands held tight.

  But what Mr. High School didn’t grasp was it wasn’t like I was missed at all those events anyway. Other than Sydney, no one cared if I was there, and I wouldn’t begin to know how to act at a party. At the games, Syd mostly worked concessions. What was I supposed to do, sit in the stands by myself? No, thank you.

  Tension in my right hand had me propelling my foot in that direction, and my breathing grew heavy. This was the same argument I’d been having with Dad, only it was none of Stone’s business.

  Then he said, “Life is about a hell of a lot more than books and tests. I mean, seriously…do you ever just have fun?”

  I threw my hands in the air with a growl of frustration. “Can’t you tell?” I snapped. “I’m having a total blast right now!”

  My voice echoing off the hardwood floor acted like an old-school record player scratch. With a mental skrrrp, I winced and peeled my eyelids open. Stone stared back, his dark peepers blown wide in shock, and we held each other’s gaze for two solid beats…then we busted out laughing.

  “Well,” Marcus said with a chuckle, shocking me once again. I’d completely forgotten he was here. “I’d call that a success. A bit off topic, perhaps, but at least we got your mind off your feet.”

  My lips parted in surprise. Huh. He was right. The entire time Stone and I had been arguing, I hadn’t once thought about the beat or what step came next. Miracle of miracles, I hadn’t stumbled, either.

  Stone grinned, both dimples on display, and as much as I hated myself for wanting his approval, I basked in the feeling of it. Warm and fuzzy across my skin like one of my bath bombs. Hot-boy scented.

  After calling it a day, Marcus quickly shared his plans for the next few lessons, and I nodded along, feigning excitement. When he headed back to the office, Stone and I were left alone at one of the bistro tables around the dance floor, drinking much-needed bottles of water.

  “You did good today,” he told me, stretching his long leg
s out.

  I fiddled with the peeling label. “Thanks. And, uh, thanks for being my partner again. You must be a masochist, subjecting yourself to my feet a second time, but I’m glad you did. That last exercise helped.” Lifting my eyes, I added with a grin, “I even had fun.”

  Stone smiled and said, “Surprisingly, I did, too. Even with the crushed toes.”

  “I didn’t step on you once!” Glancing back at the shiny dance floor, a few particularly stellar moments came to mind, and I winced. “Okay, so I trampled you a couple times. It wasn’t half as bad as last week,” I argued, my cheeks growing hot.

  “I’m teasing you.” He kicked the bottom of my chair. “I meant what I told Marcus. I wouldn’t mind making this a regular thing. I’m here helping my mom anyway. Might as well let out some aggression and dance while I’m at it.” His smile softened as he focused on me and asked, “What do you say? Would it be cool if we partner up while you take lessons?”

  Er. Here was where it got sticky. Technically, Stone was the owner’s son. If I told him the truth, that I was quitting, he could tell his mom, who I was sure would call Dad. That would mess up everything I had planned. But for some reason, I trusted him.

  I blamed that silly exercise.

  “To be honest…” I shifted forward in my chair. “I don’t really plan on staying a student much longer.”

  “Oh?” Stone put his elbows on the table. “But Marcus has your program set for a month.”

  I nodded and shoved a section of hair behind my ear. “Yeah, see, my dad’s actually the one who wants me in lessons. This is his deal. But he leaves tomorrow, and that’s when I’m gonna get my life back. I don’t have time for dance classes right now. As you know, progress reports went home yesterday, and I’m nowhere near as solid as I’d like to be.”

  Watching me, Stone picked up his bottle of water and took a good, long pull. The thick knot in his throat bobbed, and I glanced away, biting my lip. “I thought you got straight A’s.”

  “I-I do,” I admitted, turning back as he set the bottle on the table. “But that’s beside the point. Being valedictorian means being the best, and Cameron aced a history test when I was in…er, when I was home sick last week,” I covered quickly, ignoring his sharp, inquisitive look. “That’s just an example. I’m making the test up Monday. But there’s more pressure than ever to make sure I take the top spot. I can’t afford to fall behind.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve got to say, I think you’re making a mistake. It’s senior year. This is our last shot before we head off to college and are expected to act like adults. You should spend at least some of it doing more than just studying.”

  “Oh, I should, huh?” I said, rolling my eyes. “Strange, I don’t recall asking your opinion.” At his pursed lips, I laughed and pushed up from my chair. It was time to head home. “Listen, I get that you mean well, and I appreciate it. Somewhat. But this is my life, okay? I get to choose how I live it.”

  Tucking in my chair, I threw a wave over my shoulder and headed for the door.

  Halfway across the floor, he called out, “I dare you not to quit.”

  My feet stumbled as my mouth fell open. She wouldn’t have…

  Slowly, I turned around, realizing my best friend oh so definitely would, and narrowed my eyes. “You talked to Sydney.”

  Stone pushed to his feet. The right side of his mouth kicked up in a crooked grin as he covered the distance between us. “I didn’t talk to anyone. I remember you, Lily Bailey. The girl who used to be scrappy as hell and never backed down from a challenge.”

  My breath caught audibly, and his gaze drifted across my face. “She’s still in there, too,” he murmured. “Buried under a mountain of textbooks. I’ve seen glimpses”—he nodded to the dance floor behind us—“quick flashes that show she’s busting to get out of the cage you’ve put her in. But you’re too stubborn to let that happen. So I’m daring you.”

  I blinked silently, still lost on him remembering me, and he reached out, sliding a strand of hair behind my ear. The skin on my cheek tingled.

  “Give me one month,” he urged, eyes pleading. “Stick with the lessons Marcus planned and let me prove to you that life is for living, not waiting.”

  My stomach fluttered, and I whispered in confusion, “Why do you even care?”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “You remind me of my sister,” he said, glancing away. “If Angéla was this lost, I’d want someone to help her, too.”

  So I was a charity case. Tucking my arms across my chest, I hid the hurt behind a mask of indifference. “And if you can’t convince me? What do I get out of it?”

  Stone smiled. “If I can’t prove I’m right after one month, then you can quit the lessons, and I’ll cover for you with our parents.”

  Blood rushed in my ears. A spark worked its way through my chest, gaining speed as it zipped up my spine and exploded in my belly. Adrenaline. An intoxicating rush I hadn’t felt in a long time. Three years, if I wanted to get picky about it.

  Him handling our parents would resolve a major issue; Dad intended for me to stay in lessons indefinitely, but if Stone helped keep him in the dark once I quit, he’d stay off my back. Plus, if I was honest, a month wasn’t that big a deal. Yeah, I’d bitched about it, but it had never been so much about the lessons as what they represented—a constraint on my time, and my dad’s inability to understand me. I didn’t need another thing on my massive to-do list, and he should’ve known that. But even I could admit it wouldn’t be hard to make up one hour of study time once a week. And it wasn’t as if Stone would last an entire month anyway.

  Clearly, the guy was bluffing. Stone Torres lived a life filled with football and popularity. He didn’t have time to walk me through the finer points of Teenager 101 any more than I had time to listen. As for convincing me high school was more than a stepping stone? He’d have better luck selling ice cream to a penguin.

  What was tempting, though, was knocking him down a peg or two in the meantime. God, he was cocky. Acting like his approach to life was the only way to live. And assuming he knew me after only a week. It’d be nice showing Stone he wasn’t as infallible as this town made him out to be. Then, soon enough, he’d grow bored…and I would win. And be done with lessons.

  Rolling back my shoulders, I met his smug look with a confident grin of my own and said, “Okay, twinkle toes, you’re on.”

  “Good.” Stone’s eyes lit with triumph as he put his hand on my shoulder. “We start tomorrow.”

  Chapter Seven

  Lily

  I don’t belong here.

  A group of giggling girls jumped out of the idling car and took off across the steaming blacktop. Ponytails streamed behind them as they waved at friends like giddy extras in a CW show, completely carefree, and I swallowed down a mini-wave of panic.

  Ducking behind a sapling, I walked backward and pressed my back against a lamppost holding a banner welcoming everyone to the Festival at the Lake. The heat from the metal pole singed past my shirt while a series of flashbacks fired in rapid succession.

  Mom, cheering on a dance troupe as they marched past us in the parade and eating her weight in popcorn.

  Dad, buying three huge hot dogs slathered in mustard and ketchup and promptly spilling the condiments on his shirt.

  Me, laughing as Jolly Ranchers beaned me in the head from the Lions Club eyeglass float.

  My chest pinched as those memories, and a dozen others just like them, washed over me. That laughing girl who’d looked forward to coming to the annual festival would’ve never believed I’d be here a few short years later, hiding behind a stupid sapling.

  I closed my eyes. God, I used to live for this event. What kid didn’t love a festival, much less one kicked off with a candy-tossing parade filled with themed floats and loud music?

  Twelve-year-old me would’ve so kicked my ass.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I grabbed it like the lifeline it was. Sydney had planned to
meet me behind Handyman Hardware five minutes ago but had called when I was already on my way to say she was running late. She’d promised she wouldn’t make me do this alone, though, and would give me a heads-up as soon as she was en route.

  Seeing this first part of Stone’s dare through was imperative. I couldn’t let him win. Being my best friend, Sydney understood this challenge was important, even if she thought I was being silly about attending a simple parade.

  Blowing out a breath, I read the message.

  So sorry! Stuck with the rug rats. Someone called in sick and Mom got guilted into working a double. At least try to have fun, k? Tell me EVERYTHING tonight! xoxo

  Ugh! I’d known this would happen. The second she’d said her mom hadn’t gotten home yet, I’d smelled trouble. That was the way my life worked. Still, I’d hoped for the best, and now here I was, alone in a sea of semi-familiar faces. I threw my head back and groaned.

  The noonday sun sat straight overhead, roasting my shoulders and making my eyes water. Somewhere, a school band was warming up, which meant the parade would start rolling soon. I still needed to find Stone’s float.

  So I was alone. Big deal. I’d make an appearance as promised, let Stone show me some of the so-called “fun” I’d been missing, and then duck back out. It might even be better this way. Without Sydney tugging my arm, wanting to see and sample everything, I could be back home and studying before lunch.

  With a new pep in my step, I set off to find my new nemesis.

  The parking lot was packed. Over the years, the town’s parade had combined with our old homecoming one, creating one giant party celebrating the entire town of Cypress Lake along with the high school. Ducking around the 4H float, I meandered past the Knights of Columbus flatbed and headed toward the towering papier-mâché tiger I spotted in the back. Brighton’s football team and cheerleading squad had a joint float every year. It didn’t take a genius to guess their design.