by Judy Corry
Max continued, "Each of you has been paired up with a partner. You have one chance to wow the crowd and the judges with your choreographed dance. When the night is over, the judges will announce the winners and the winners will have bragging rights for the rest of their life."
"Yeah, I'm totally putting this on my scholarship applications," Luke said so everyone could hear. A low rumble of laughter spread throughout the room. I couldn't help but smile too, because even though Luke did cause a lot of drama in my life he could always make me laugh.
“Each partnership will pick a number from this,” Max said, holding up a clear bowl containing a bunch of folded white papers. “And it’ll decide the order of the performance.”
We all got in line to pick our fate. I somehow ended up sandwiched between Luke and Noah. As we waited for the line to move forward, Noah leaned next to my ear and said in a low voice, "Too bad we aren't partners. I was hoping to spend a little more time with you, since you're so desperate to get a boyfriend again."
"But wasn't I just a waste of time?" I shrugged him off my shoulder and looked him straight in the eyes. “I’d never dance with you, Noah. Not even if you were the last guy at school. I'd rather dance with my dog."
"You pretty much are." Noah eyed Luke whose posture stiffened at Noah's comment.
"Luke isn't a dog. Let's just hope you and Madison can work together, because once you see Luke and me on the dance floor, you'll want to run in the opposite direction."
Luke turned back to face me at the mention of us winning. "I wouldn't be bragging about our dancing skills just yet. I can't dance to save my life."
"Then why did you agree to do this in the first place?" I asked.
He looked down and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I have my reasons."
We made it to the front of the line. Luke reached into the bowl and pulled out a slip of paper. His brow furrowed when he saw our number. "We're eleventh?"
My stomach shriveled at his words. "That means we're last. Which means, we have to be a showstopper."
"I'll just grab a different one real quick," Luke said. But Noah had heard us and shoved his hand in the bowl to grab the last paper.
"You got it. You're dancing it," Noah said with a competitive glint in his eyes. I wanted to smack him.
Max cleared his throat to get our attention again. "Now that you've chosen your numbers, please tell me what they are so I can write them down. Then make sure to arrange a time to practice with your partners. I know quite a few of you are busy with your sports and other activities, so I really do appreciate you taking the time to do this. If you have any more questions, you can ask me or Coach Meyer. The event is on October twenty-first, which only gives you about a month and a half, so make sure you don't waste any time."
Then he left us to figure everything out on our own.
I glanced at Luke, who was still staring at the paper in his hands.
"I have drill practice every morning before school, and then again on Thursday evenings and some Saturdays, so that's probably going to be a little tricky to get together," I said. "And I know you have football after school and games every Friday, so maybe the best time for us to get together would be later in the evenings on weekdays. Or possibly on the weekends?"
Luke nodded. "Evenings are good. There's not much going on at home these days, so that should be wide open."
The way he said that made me wonder if something had changed recently in his home life. And there was a sadness in his eyes that hadn't been there a moment before. I'd have to learn more about Luke when we get together next time.
We arranged to meet at his house that night at seven to find out what I had to work with. I just hoped we'd be able to get along well enough to make this new partnership work.
10
Luke
Ashlyn knocked on my door exactly at seven, wearing what I guessed were her dancing workout clothes: a loose pink t-shirt and tight black pants. I tried not to look too long at her because even in her workout clothes she was hot. And I really shouldn't be thinking that right now.
"Thanks for agreeing to meet here." I led her into the living room that used to seem so warm and inviting when Mom was alive. Now it just felt lonely. Like the life had disappeared from the house the same moment she slipped away.
Ashlyn smiled as she looked around the living room, glancing at the photos on the walls of my brother, my parents, and me. She stopped in front of the family picture we had taken last spring with my mom in her wig.
"So this is the famous Davenport family." His eyes sparkled.
I dropped my gaze, shuffling my weight between my feet. I didn't want to answer any questions about my family. Tonight was supposed to be about dancing.
Did I just think that tonight was about dancing? What world was I living in?
She moved, so I looked up. Now she was inspecting my photo, and then the one of my mom and dad.
"You and your mom look a lot alike. She's beautiful."
"Does that mean you think I'm beautiful?" I asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from my mom. Ashlyn still didn't seem to know about my mom's passing. Looks like the school counselor hadn't told everyone yet. Which was probably good.
Ashlyn laughed, and her eyes crinkled at the corners when she did. "I said your mom is beautiful. But you do have her eyes."
I walked toward the couch and sat down. "How about we get started? I have a feeling we'll be spending a lot of time with each other over the next several weeks if we're going to pull together something decent."
"You're probably right." Ashlyn stuck her hands on her hips and seemed to give me a good look over. "To start, we'll need to figure out where you are with your dancing ability. I mean, the school did get a good preview of your potty-dance style moves at the game two Fridays ago, but I'm not sure that's what Max is hoping for in our show."
I scowled. "You just had to go there, didn't you?"
"I'll go there as often as I can." Ashlyn beamed. "You deserve it."
"I don't know if anyone deserves to have Icy Hot down there. No matter how badly they may have humiliated you with certain posters on the first day of school. Plus, didn't you get like a ton of guys’ numbers from that? You should be thanking me."
"Yeah, I got a bunch of your friends' numbers, and I don’t think they were really interested. They didn't even try to follow up the next day."
"Well, Jake and Kellen aren't known for their long attention spans when it comes to girls. You should know their type, though. Isn't your brother of the same mold?"
"Must be a high-school-boy thing," she said.
I shook my head. "Not for me."
"Not for you? Really?" Her voice dripped with so much disbelief that it made me wonder what kinds of lies my ex-girlfriends may have spread about me. "How is your dating record so much better? You haven't had a girlfriend in the time I've known you."
I'd been too worried about my mom to think about dating anyone last spring. But now that she was gone, I had to admit that it might be nice to have someone who cared about me.
I shrugged. "Maybe my record isn't necessarily better, just different. When I ask a girl to be my girlfriend, she can count on me sticking with it for a while. I'm not a flavor-of-the-week kind of guy." Why was I saying this? Probably because she told me about Noah in the Chemistry lab, and for some reason, I wanted her to know that not all guys were jerks when it came to dating.
"Let's see if you're as good at learning as you are at bragging." Ashlyn stepped forward and gestured for me to stand before her.
I stood about six inches taller than her, which was a good height difference, I guess. Though I had no idea if it was good for dancing. At least she didn't make me feel like a giant.
Ashlyn inspected me as I stood there. I stuffed my hands in my pockets to keep from fidgeting as she walked a circle around me, tapping her chin with her fingers. Once she was done, she said, "You already have good posture, so that's good. Most tall guys slouch, so that's so
mething you have going for you. But when you dance, you need to be hyperaware of your lines. Just keep that in mind, okay?"
"Got it. Long, straight lines."
"Very good." She looked up at me with her bright blue eyes. "Do you have a speaker I can hook my phone up to?"
"Yeah." I took the phone she held out, our fingers brushing as I did so. I tried not to notice the shock of electricity that came from her touch. That wasn't supposed to happen with Ashlyn.
I crossed the room to the entertainment center and plugged her phone into the speaker. When I turned around, I jumped back. She was right behind me.
"Sorry to startle you." Ashlyn stepped back as well. "I just wanted to turn on a song."
"You're not going to teach me anything first?"
She shook her head as she tapped on her phone. "I need to see what I have to work with."
Which meant she was planning to watch me dance. Any confidence I might have had drained from my blood.
An upbeat song played through the speakers.
"Let's see your moves." Ashlyn crossed her arms and waited for me to dance.
My feet were frozen to the floor, suddenly full of lead.
She arched her eyebrow. "We don't have all night, Luke. Just show them to me. I promise I won't laugh."
So she expected me to suck at this. I didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but at least her expectations were spot on.
"Here, just do what I do," she said. She started stepping from side to side to the beat, letting her head hang back with her eyes closed, her long blonde hair cascading behind her. She made it look so easy, dancing in front of me. I could never do that. I was way too self-conscious.
She opened her eyes a moment later and stopped dancing. "I'm not here for you to just watch. Move."
I released a heavy breath and stepped to the right. My left foot followed and then moved back to where it began. It was kind of like what Ashlyn had done, a sort of step-touch, step-touch move…albeit much stiffer than the way she'd done it.
"That's a start," she said. She stepped closer and set her hands on my shoulders. I shivered at her unexpected touch. "You need to loosen your shoulders up, get some arm movement going." She gave my shoulders a shake.
I swallowed and tried to catch the beat of the song before stepping to the side again. This time I snapped my fingers with each step.
"Are you dancing like Hitch?"
"Who's Hitch?"
She waved her hand. "It's an old movie my mom loves. Will Smith plays this guy named Hitch who is, like, the ultimate ladies’ man, and he coaches other guys on how to land the girl of their dreams. That's exactly what he looks like when he's teaching Albert how to dance."
"So is that a good thing or not?"
She laughed. "It's fine. I'm pretty sure most of the cool guys dance like that."
Ok, as long as it was fine. Fine was better than terrible.
She kept stepping like that for a minute, and I was getting more confident in my dancing ability until she did some twirly-leap-thingy and turned back to me, expecting me to follow.
I just stood there, my mouth hanging open like a doofus. "Do I have to learn how to do that?"
She looked back at me and smiled. "No, sorry. I couldn't help myself. Sometimes the music just gets to me and I have to leap. Dancing like you is so boring."
"It may be boring, but at least I don't look like some pansy prancing around in tights."
She grinned, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she did. "I'm guessing you won't like the costume I had in mind for you, then."
I cocked my head to the side. "And that would be?" Please don't say tights.
"I was thinking of something like a Peter Pan costume. You look good in green, right?" Her face was so serious.
"Uh…"
She gently slapped my arm. "Totally joking. I haven't even had time to pick out a song, let alone a costume."
"Do I have a say in any of this?"
She tilted her head, her gaze looking me up and down. "That depends on how easy you are to work with."
I stood straighter and held my arm up as if giving my oath of honor in court. "I promise to be the perfect student."
She smiled. "Great. Have you ever done the waltz before?"
"The waltz?" I coughed. "Um, no. Pretty sure you've already witnessed the extent of my moves. Dancing isn't my thing."
"Wasn't your thing," she corrected. "I'm hoping for both of our sakes that it becomes your thing very soon."
She stepped closer until we were almost touching torsos, and she held my left hand in her right. She positioned my other hand to rest on her back, just below her shoulder blade. I sucked in a breath. Our sudden closeness took me off guard.
I wasn't supposed to react to Ashlyn like this. I was supposed to be pulling off the best prank ever by getting her to fall in love with a fake guy. She was already getting closer to figuring out that her British Boy wasn't real, and if I started acting nicer toward her, or get some feelings involved, the more likely she'd figure everything out.
It might be a good idea to purposely stomp on her toes to make sure she didn't realize I was softening.
Her left arm hugged around my tricep, her hand on my shoulder, and then she pulled in even closer. I sucked in another breath, which was bad because she smelled like coconut and something else—same as she smelled like in the Chemistry lab—and it was making me delirious.
She didn't seem to notice though, because she said, "For the waltz, we do a series of three steps to the beat. Begin by moving your left foot forward, just a small step."
I did as she said, and she mirrored me. That seemed simple enough.
"Now you need to step your right foot forward so it's in line with your other foot, about shoulder-width apart."
I did as she instructed, not even stepping on her foot. We were moving together.
So far, so good. I might have a chance.
"The next thing you need to do is to move your right foot so it's next to your left."
I tried to do as she said but ended up stepping on my own loose shoelace. So much for having a chance.
"Why are we doing the waltz anyway? Did you already make up our dance?"
"No, like I said, I haven't even picked a song. I just figured the waltz might be a simple way to start your feet moving in the right direction."
"And how are my feet doing?"
"They're okay. Just a bit stiff."
I stopped. It was hopeless. I might as well give up now. So much for helping out Lacey and her family.
She looked up at me, her eyes clouded with confusion. "Why'd you stop?"
"You said my dancing is stiff."
Her eyes softened. "Just relax, Luke. This is only the first practice. We still have over a month to nail this down. It’ll be okay."
I ran a hand through my hair. "Fine."
She bit her glossy pink lip. "But we should probably practice again soon."
The dancing lesson went okay after that, but I definitely wouldn't be entering other dancing competitions anytime soon.
"When do you want to meet next?" she asked, once we were officially done.
I thought about it and had the idea to play with her a little bit.
"Um, since I'm guessing I'll need a lot of help, we could get together tomorrow at lunchtime. Wednesday is bad, I don't have time on Friday because of the game, and I'm sure you have better things to do this weekend than teach me how to dance. So, tomorrow would be the best time."
She bit her lip and her fingers twitched at her sides. "Tomorrow's Tuesday, right?" Tuesday was the day she was supposed to meet British Boy again.
"Do you have some sort of club meeting on Tuesdays?"
"No…" she said slowly, as if trying to come up with an excuse. "It's just that I have another one of those tutoring sessions with Mr. Phipps and I can't miss it."
She was lying through her teeth. But this was fun. "You really need that much help with History?"
&nbs
p; "The genius gene skipped me at our house. Jess got the brains. Macey got the cuteness factor. And me…well, I'm just the dancer."
"You're also a great teacher," I offered, not liking the idea of her thinking so low about herself. She'd been awesome to help me out tonight. Not many girls at our school would have been so patient. "Needing help isn't something to be ashamed of. But if you really do have to go to this tutoring session, how about we get together for at least part of Saturday, if that's okay with you?"
"Saturday morning or afternoon?" she asked, pulling out her phone to check her schedule.
"Afternoon works. I gotta sleep in as much as I can. Growing boy and all."
She gave me what might have been interpreted as a flirtatious look. "Growing boy? More like growing man." She touched my bicep. "Dancing with a guy does have some perks, and I wouldn't call those guns of yours little at all."
My cheeks heated. Ashlyn was flirting with me? Had I heard her right?
"Thanks?" I cleared my throat after recovering from my shock. Her cheeks were slightly pinker than usual. Had she not meant to say that out loud?
That thought sent an interesting sensation through my stomach.
She quickly grabbed her things, suddenly in a hurry to leave. "I'll, uh, see you on Saturday then. We can figure out the details of when and where later."
11
Ashlyn
"I told Luke he has nice guns yesterday," I whispered to Eliana on Tuesday morning as we got our books out of our lockers. "I don't know what's happening to me."
Eliana smiled. "They do say that love and hate can be closely related. And he is hot."
"True. But I'm not supposed to flirt with him. I mean, I already have British Boy to keep my mind occupied. I don't have time to think about anyone else."
"How are things going with British Boy?" Eliana asked, her eyebrow raised. "Still planning to meet during lunch?"