I was beyond tardy for my dance class.
A good chunk of my delay involved waiting for the sullen girl sitting behind the help desk, chewing and snapping away on a small wad of gum, to assign me a gym locker. She had then informed me that bringing electronic devices within the sacred walls of the dance studio was strictly forbidden. By the time I’d shoved everything inside and spun the combination to lock it, I was beyond acceptable tardiness, even for a brand-new transfer student.
Still, I entered the gym with my head held high.
“New kid.” The tall, broad-shouldered instructor, Ms. Helsenberg, barely spared me a glance. “You’re late. Never wear jeans again. Go warm up in the corner and watch carefully.”
Well, that was nice and friendly of her.
I stalked over to the corner and started doing a set of jumping jacks. My muscles were already sore from my most recent dash across campus, but if this teacher wanted to bark like a drill sergeant, I could find the energy to snap back a salute.
“Cassie! That leg kick was supposed to come a full beat earlier. Lead Mikhail, don’t stand there like a lump. Peyton, point your toes. Point your toes! Point your toes or I will break them. Better.”
Peyton’s right leg flew skyward before wrapping around some boy’s torso and then whipping away so quickly it was hard to believe it had ever happened. It would take a whole troupe of Cirque du Soleil performers yanking on my limbs for me to ever replicate that move.
I decided to block out that mental image with a quick round of sit-ups.
“No!” Ms. Helsenberg bellowed at me. “You’re using your neck and back, not your core. Do it right or not at all.”
I stood up, opting to stop entirely over having everyone in the class watch as she critiqued my form.
“Let’s see if you can manage a waltz with Colin.” Ms. Helsenberg jerked her head at a kid on the scrawny side who nearly had a halo of rusty golden curls surrounding his face. “Your hand rests on his shoulder, New Girl! No floppy arms. Everyone pulls their weight here.”
Colin rolled his eyes as soon as she began working with a different couple.
“Stop breathing, New Girl!” he snapped in a pretty good imitation of our dictator. “You can do that outside my studio. I own you here.”
I laughed. “I usually go by Emmy. So what do we do now?”
“The waltz isn’t too hard.” He puffed out his chest as if he were a matador about to face off with an enraged bull and surged forward. “One two three. One two th—”
I tripped over my feet, barely managing to break free of his hold without falling flat on my face.
“Sorry, I—”
“Hopeless! How many times must we go over this, Colin? The man leads with competence and command. Watch me right now.”
Before I could object, my hands were placed on Ms. Helsenberg’s shoulders and I was whirling across the dance floor without once glancing at my feet. My legs responded automatically and the rapid series of movements felt surprisingly good. Strong. Powerful.
“This is how you take command,” Ms. Helsenberg barked. “A true leader can control even the worst partner.” She stopped abruptly, dropping her hold on my waist as if the physical contact repulsed her. “That includes Noodle here.”
I stepped back feeling stung. “Hey!”
“If you don’t like the nickname, Noodle, then maintain tension in your arms!”
Two days of nonstop anxiety and my dance instructor’s biggest complaint was that I lacked tension. I nearly burst out laughing. Ms. Helsenberg didn’t have a freaking clue.
“Nasir, you take her. I’m too busy for this.”
I turned around to see a vaguely apologetic Nasir moving right toward me. My ears began to burn. I’d expected that we’d run into each other again before long, at a school this small that was inevitable, but I wasn’t prepared for a confrontation. Especially not with Sebastian’s earlier accusation that Audrey was the one who ended the relationship still ringing in my ears.
“I was rude,” I blurted. “Earlier. In the cafeteria. I was rude to you.”
Nasir shifted uncomfortably, as if he couldn’t quite believe I was speaking in full sentences to him. “Yeah. A little. But that’s okay.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know the details and I don’t need to hear them. I’m staying out of it. But I promise you this: if you ever, ever hurt my best friend again, I will end you.”
Nasir didn’t appear cowed by my threat, but his eyes momentarily flashed at the again I let slip. “I hurt Audrey?”
“Of course you did!”
Ms. Helsenberg stormed over toward us. “Less yapping, more dancing!”
I obediently placed one hand on Nasir’s shoulder and tried to recall the steps.
“One two three. One tw—”
“Audrey broke up with me,” Nasir said as if that settled everything. As if she couldn’t possibly miss him or she never would have dumped him in the first place.
My eyes narrowed into fierce green slits. “What did you do to make her bolt?”
His face flushed and mumbled something incomprehensible.
“What was that, Nasir?”
“I said, I stole her phone.”
Just like that, my arms really did become noodles as I tried to slither out of his grasp.
“You did what?”
“It’s not as bad as it sounds.”
“You stole Audrey’s phone?”
“I only wanted to poke around on it a little,” his cheeks reddened further, adding a dusky tinge to his copper skin. I could feel my own face heating, but embarrassment had nothing to do with it. A fierce tidal wave of indignation swept through me.
“That’s supposed to make it better?” I hissed. “That’s a complete violation of privacy!”
“I know.”
“It’s an invasion of her trust!”
“I know.”
“It’s completely and totally wrong!”
Nasir’s eyes widened in mock surprise. “Really? Now that’s new information, Emmy. Oh wait. No, it’s not.”
I jabbed his chest with my index finger. “You don’t get to be snarky here! No way. Not after telling me that you tried to steal my best friend’s phone.”
“Can we schedule some other time for me to be snarky then? I have so many clever retorts saved up.”
I shook my head. “Is this some kind of joke to you?”
“Of course it’s not!” Nasir quickly repositioned my hands so that we wouldn’t get yelled at by a scowling Ms. Helsenberg. “My breakup hasn’t exactly been a barrel of laughs, so excuse me if I’m not interested in your post-relationship analysis. Not that I should have to explain myself since it was my relationship. Not yours. Mine.”
He had a point. Several, in fact. Except he couldn’t be any more wrong.
“Audrey is the best,” I said. “She’s smart and loyal and funny and beautiful and awesome because she’s Audrey. She’d do anything for her friends—no questions asked—and she’s capable of forgiveness to an extent that scares me for her safety. So you can tell me to mind my own business. I don’t care. When it comes to Audrey, all bets are off.”
Nasir stared at me as if I’d grown a second head, but I didn’t regret saying any of it. I didn’t care what Nasir thought of my protective instincts. Just because Audrey had spent the past few weeks pretending to be totally over Nasir didn’t mean I could slack off on my best friend duties.
“Do you really think she’d forgive me?” Nasir asked so softly I almost thought I created the moment in my head.
But no, his dark brown eyes were riveted to my face in a way that unnerved me. There had to be a class at Emptor Academy on interrogation techniques. That would explain how everyone here could rattle me with a simple stare.
“Maybe,” I shrugged. “Do you deserve to be forgiven?”
He started to speak, thought better of it, and shut his mouth.
“You think it over and get back to me. Better yet, get back to Audrey. But if there’s even the smallest chance you might maybe, possibly, potentially hurt her again? Delete her from your phone. Right now.”
Ms. Helsenberg clapped her hands for attention. “Form your lines everyone.”
The room parted with the girls facing their male counterparts with a few feet of distance between the pairs. I quickly sidestepped around a short girl with a tight French braid in order to put an extra few feet of space between Ms. Helsenberg and me.
“We have ten more minutes. Let’s make them count, people! The Argentine Tango is a very sensual dance. It’s meant to portray passion. Heat. Fire. So get out all your immature giggling right now. I won’t tolerate any sloppy footwork.”
No pressure, though.
“Girls curtsy. Boys bow.”
I bobbed an awkward dip, as the rest of the girls sank into graceful Pride and Prejudice–worthy curtsies. I half expected one of the girls to say, “Why Mr. Darcy! I’d love to dance with you,” in some ridiculous imitation of a British accent. Although given the academy’s international appeal, I was equally likely to hear the clipped vowels of the genuine accent.
“Partner up,” Ms. Helsenberg ordered, and I found myself paired with a large beefy kid with sweaty palms. I tried to smile up at him, but he didn’t appear to notice. His eyes were locked on Peyton, whose high cheekbones held a slight flush from exertion.
She looked pristine, delicate, and gorgeously untouchable.
I didn’t blame my partner for wanting to trade me. I just wished he could be a little less obvious about it, especially with Ms. Helsenberg wandering the room, correcting postures and snapping out brusque commands.
“Is she always like this?” I asked my partner nervously.
He tightened his hold on my back before answering. “Yes.”
So much for bonding with the guy about to lead me backward in an unknown dance. I found myself wishing that Colin and I were still partnered together. Better yet, I imagined that Ben was there. That he’d ignored the rules and steps of the dance, moving straight toward me, drawing me close into his arms, before slowly—deliberately—pressing his lips against mine.
Ms. Helsenberg would’ve seen plenty of passion then.
Something hard jabbed my stomach. The swift jolt of pain was followed by the lingering ache of a forming bruise. I wanted to rub the sensitive spot, but my partner refused to release my arms as Ms. Helsenberg hissed, “Tighten your core, Noodle!”
The remaining eight minutes of class were a complete disaster. I wasn’t the only person struggling with the dance moves, but she still spent the majority of her time hollering, “Noodle! I said use your left foot! Is that your left? No? Then don’t use it.”
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Peyton eating it up.
She didn’t attempt to land any barbs of her own. Instead, she floated along with her partner while she happily took in the show.
Ms. Helsenberg clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Girls, I want you wearing heels in next week’s class. Two to three inches. Make sure you can move in them. Boys, you should all own a nice pair of loafers. Wear them. Class dismissed.”
I breathed out a sigh of relief and moved toward the door.
“Noodle you stay here. I’m not done with you.”
Peyton smiled in unspoken triumph as she tossed her long brown hair over her shoulder and gave me a little finger wave before letting the door snick shut behind her.
Leaving me alone with my least favorite teacher.