The Bad Boy's Dance Read online

  “Me too,” I commiserated.

  “Mm…but you have a dancing body,” he smirked. “I’ll bet you’re really….flexible.”

  My ears flamed at his words. Having my hair in a loose bun had it’s drawbacks, like say, not covering my reddening ears.

  “That’s gross,” I replied flatly.

  “What’s gross?” he asked innocently. He wanted me to say it. The perv!

  I’ll bet loads of girls don’t think so.

  He was stunning, that was true. His dark blue eyes looked amazing with his dark hair. A lock fell across his cheek, and he blew it aside. “Your face,” I snapped without thinking.

  Shoot! Why couldn’t I learn to keep my mouth shut? I was going to die. This is it. At least I was dying in 2015. Take that, 2012 fatalists!

  His lips parted in surprise before he clutched his side and laughed.

  I scowled at him and stalked away. Your face? That was the best I could come up with? Spencer would be so disappointed.

  “Welcome to Dance, ladies…and gentleman. Are you ready?!” Mrs. Knut hollered.

  “Yes!”

  No!

  “I’m not going to go over the syllabus and that nonsense. It’s not like any of you will remember it anyway, right? We’re going to be learning hip-hop, ballroom dancing, the tango, you name it! I’m going to pick a song a random song from my iPod and play it. Show me what you can do! This is your chance to impress me,” Mrs. Knut psyched. She went over to her iPod, pressed a button, and next thing you know, Britney Spears was everywhere.

  Everyone started moving awkwardly from side to side as Mrs. Knut called out encouragements. I just kind of stood there, fighting the rhythm of the music.

  Be strong! Don’t dance!

  But the beat to this song was great. It was impossibly difficult to suppress my urge to move.

  I glanced at Asher. He was standing there, and to my confusion, he was staring at me with a perplexed expression. That was not an expression you saw on Asher Grayson’s face often.

  He smirked when our eyes met, and I looked away quickly. No doubt he liked this song- hell, he’d probably lived it.

  “Ivy Robello and Asher Grayson!” Mrs. Knut was not happy.

  The girls watched him lustily. The freshmen were in awe, and it was clear Asher knew the effect he had as he sauntered over to Mrs. Knut. I followed behind him, and I had to admit, he did have a very nice rear.

  “Why weren’t either of you dancing?” Mrs. Knut chastised.

  Asher yawned with boredom. “I don’t dance.”

  Mrs. Knut turned her gaze to me, and I shrugged guiltily. “Me either.”

  “Does that mean you can’t or won’t dance?” Mrs. Knut demanded.

  I wrung my hands. If I said that I couldn’t dance, she’d think I was shy and try that much harder to get me to participate. If I said I wouldn’t she’d refer me to Mr. Henderson.

  “Won’t.” Asher and I answered at the same time. We glanced at each other. He could dance? Of course. The only thing he couldn’t do was be a decent human being.

  “I see,” Mrs. Knut said. She sighed regretfully. “That’s a real shame. Stay after class, the two of you.”

  As if on cue, the bell blared and the students exited quickly. “Don’t forget to wear your dance clothes tomorrow!” Mrs. Knut called after them.

  She turned to us again. Mrs. Knut was pretty for a teacher. She had spiky short hair, long legs, and tan skin that wasn’t weathered by wrinkles.

  “What are we going to do with you?” she murmured, tapping her nails across her lower lip.

  Suddenly, her eyes lit up. “I know! You two want to get out of this class, right?”

  We nodded. It was starting to get creepy how in sync we were.

  “Then I have a solution that’ll make everyone happy. I can talk to Mr. Henderson and have you both drop this class at the end of the semester on a condition.”

  Condition?

  A creepily triumphant smile was on her face. “At the end of the semester is the National Dance Tournament. If you two participate in it and win third place, you can drop the class and still graduate.”

  I gawked at her. Was she serious?!No way was I participating in the National Dance Tournament. Before…before my sophomore year, my trainer had been conditioning me to enter. I never got the chance because I quit dancing a few months later.

  “Hell. No.” Asher was a little more forward with his refusal.

  Mrs. Knut crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s not an option, Mr. Grayson. And don’t worry. You’ll be partnered with Miss Robello for the tournament. I’m sure if you two work hard in the next few months, you’ll be great. After all, you can dance,” she grinned.

  Mrs. Knut was high. That was the only way she could think I’d join the NDT, especially with him.

  “No way!” I protested. “That’s not fair!”

  She shrugged. “That’s life, Miss Robello. Not much we can do about it but bear it with grace.”

  Asher looked like he was deep in thought. He stared at me with intensity for a minute before turning back to Mrs. Knut. “We’ll do it.”

  “Excuse you?” I shouted. “I’m not doing it! I’m not doing anything with you!”

  Asher frowned at me, like I was a troublesome child. “I’ll convince her,” he told Mrs. Knut.

  That-that- douche canoe! Where did he get off saying ‘he’d convince me’? Uh-oh. My violence was surfacing, and challenging Asher Grayson in a fight was tantamount to suicide. This was the guy who’d thrown a bouncer through a window because he wouldn’t let him pass.

  I scrambled to stuff my feet in my combat boots. Grabbing my backpack, I shot Asher a dirty look and stormed out. The nerve!

  The school was much emptier, since everyone had gone home. Dana was going to be ticked. I found her and Caleb sitting on the bench. They stood at the sight of me.

  “Ivy? What’s the matter?” Dana asked in concern.

  With difficulty, I suppressed the anger. “Nothing. I’ll tell you guys later. Let’s go home.”

  They hopped into my car, still shooting me cautious looks. I revved the engine and merged into traffic.

  I told my friends about my dance dilemma, fuming when I spoke of Asher’s role.

  Dana was shocked in the back seat, so I let her process while Caleb gave me his opinion. “I think you should do it. It’s not like Grayson is going to kill you if he needs you to graduate.”

  Caleb didn’t know me when I was a freshman or sophomore. He only knew a few facts about my dancing history or…him. “I don’t think I can, Caleb. Especially with Asher Grayson! He’s so-so-” I couldn’t find an adjective to properly explain the infuriating, arrogant, heart-meltingly handsome bad boy.

  “I-I think you should do it, Ivy,” Dana mumbled. Did I hear that right? My best friend- who knew everything- was encouraging me to do this?

  “What?!”

  “You’ve been hiding in a shell for over a year, Ives! It’s not like you can say no anyway.”

  “This wasn’t what I signed up for!”

  “You didn’t sign up, remember?”

  “I’m not doing it!”

  “Yes you are!”

  Dana and I were shouting, and Caleb was watching us with morbid fascination. He raised his hands, placating. “Guys! Stop it! Dana, back off. This is Ivy’s decision. Ives, she does have a point. You need to graduate, and this is the only way.”

  “This can’t be the only option!”

  “You get to leave after a semester too,” he continued, ignoring me. “Only a semester of Dance and then you’re free of it and Asher Grayson.”

  He was right. Somewhere in my muddled brain, I knew that the decision wasn’t mine to make, but it didn’t help me much. I dropped them off at their houses and parked in front of my home.

  I unlocked the door and entered. Mom was upstairs, and I could hear her scolding my little sister, Jodi. She was always grumpy when she got home after work. Dad was still at the fir
m, and I figured he’d be home late. Having a lawyer as a father meant he missed lots of meals.

  I wandered into the kitchen and gulped a glass of cold water, quenching my thirst and irritation. Spencer joined me, munching on a family-size bag of Doritos. “You’re ridiculous,” I told him, wiping my mouth with my sleeve.

  “You’re just jealous you can’t be this awesome,” Spencer replied.

  “In what world is being a college student who decides to randomly come home and eat our food awesome?”

  “My world, and that’s the only world that matters,” Spencer stated seriously, licking orange flavoring from his fingers.

  I rolled my eyes and walked past my delusional brother. “Dinner’s at six!” he called after me.

  “I live here, you moron!” I hollered.

  “Spencer, Ivy, shut up!” my mom growled, stomping down the stairs. Oh, she was in her Kraken mood. Best to hide and watch out.

  Scurrying up the stairs to my room, I shut the door and threw myself into bed. I only had a few papers to get signed, no homework.

  Hauling my laptop to my knees, I clicked on the internet browser and stopped. Hmm. I didn’t have any social networking profiles, not anymore. But I did know Spencer’s!

  Facebook easily let me into my brother’s profile, and I grinned in triumph. I could wreak so much havoc if I tried. He had thousands of friends.

  Quickly, I typed in a name and waited.

  Asher’s profile was very interesting. He didn’t have his hometown, location, where he went to school, or anything personal. That wouldn’t have been too weird by itself, but there was also the fact that he didn’t have any pictures taken in our neighborhood or school.

  Weird.

  He had even more friends than Spencer. I perused his photos lazily.

  He may be a presumptuous womanizer, but he’s hot!

  What was I doing? This was Asher Grayson. He was not someone to be trifled with. Even the Plastics, his very own posse, weren’t as familiar with him as they were with each other.

  I shut the laptop and pushed it to the dresser, settling into bed. I had a more pressing matter at hand. Could I join the NDT? It would bring back so many painful memories. My heart ached at the mere thought.

  Stop being a drama queen. You can do this. Just dance, get third place, and you’ll be free.

  But could I do it while partnered with the notorious criminal bad boy? To a casual observer it would seem like I wasn’t afraid of him, but that casual observer needed to visit an optometrist, stat. Speaking to him was easy when he made me mad, but other than that, I clammed up, my palms sweat, and my lungs retired.

  Plagued by my thoughts, I drifted asleep, only waking when I heard my mom calling me for dinner. Yawning, I shuffled downstairs and plopped in a seat across my brother. Spencer’s hair was light brown, just like mine, but where mine was long and straight, his was curly and short. Along with his apple green eyes, it gave him a boyishly innocent aura that was completely fake.

  Mom chatted with Dad- who’d surprisingly made it home for dinner- while Spencer and I tried to stab each other’s hands with our forks. He yelped when my fork sank into his skin and I shushed him before our parents noticed.

  “Don’t be such a sissy,” I snickered.

  “Frig you,” he hissed. He wouldn’t curse with our parents a foot away. I smiled angelically at him, earning myself another glare.

  Spencer did the dishes while I cleaned up. It was peaceful, at least until Spencer squeezed a wet sponge over my neck, making cold water and soap travel down my spine. “You butt-head!” I screeched, slapping at him like a frenzied chimp. He dodged my blows and laughed, popping a bubble in his palm.

  When my lids grew heavy, I bid my parents goodnight and stuck my wet pinkie in Spencer’s ear before heading to bed. Showering while I was tired was a real chore, but I didn’t want to go to school stinking like a compost heap.

  In a pair of my favorite PJ’s, I cuddled with my pillow and shut down my brain.

  “Please,” I whimpered. “C’mon. I know this isn’t you.”

  “How do you know who I am? Nobody knows! I don’t even know anymore!” he yelled, frenzied. His eyes burned with a dark light only the intensity of his self-hatred could produce.

  “I love you,” I whispered. It was never enough. It had never been enough.

  “No you don’t.” He crumpled to the ground, and my heart fractured. Ignoring the voice in my head that screamed at me to run, I crouched beside him and put my hand on his shoulder.

  “Don’t touch me!” Next thing I knew, I was flying through the air, and I heard the sound of glass breaking. Blood pooled on the ground, and my favorite vase lies in pieces. I’d gotten it for him as a housewarming gift.

  “Oh no! I’m so sorry, baby! I’m so sorry!” he crawled over to me and attempted to stop the flow of blood with his hand.

  Where was the love I felt for him? It wasn’t not there anymore. Now his touch filled me with revulsion, and I wanted nothing more than to go home and never see him again.

  But he needed me.

  Chapter Three

  Lunch Room Showdown

  “MOVE IT! SHAKE YOUR SORRY KABOOSE!”

  My personalized alarm clock woke me up rudely. Groaning, I hauled the covers off and headed into the bathroom. After brushing my teeth and tying my hair into a loose bun, I dressed in a pair of jeans and an over-sized sweater. If Dana gave me crap, I’d tell her it was cold outside today.

  Dad and Mom had already left for work, so I grabbed a granola bar, hid the milk from Spencer, and vamoosed to my car.

  “Hey guys,” I greeted my friends when I picked them up. It was easy, since they were neighbors. It was a gift to us all when Dad bought me my car.

  “Why are you so chipper?” Dana complained, burrowing her face into the seat cushion. “It’s too bloody early to be going to the hellhole.”

  Caleb was texting on his phone, probably a fellow jock. We were his best friend’s but we did allow him to venture with his own gender every once in a while. “Only 169 more days to go,” he said helpfully. Not.

  I hunted for a parking spot and was almost late to first period. Bidding my friend’s goodbye, I ran off to Bio. Mrs. Peters was not tardy-friendly.

  The bell rang just as I slid into my seat. Victory!

  Mrs. Peters shot me a glare, and I sighed.

  This was going to be a long year.

  We were assigned partners, and the class dispersed to greet our new partners in crime for the year. Mine found me.

  “Hey!” Kyle slid into the seat beside me. “Thank God that you’re in this class. I don’t think I could bear it alone. Quick- give me one of those smiles.”

  I giggled. Kyle was an incorrigible flirt and Caleb’s good friend. He was also a senior, and very attractive with his washboard abs and twinkly hazel eyes.

  Nowhere near as good-looking as Asher Grayson though.

  Brain, please shut up.

  I wondered if talking to your brain counted as talking to yourself. If it did, then I might need to do something about that. I didn’t want a Lizzie McGuire mini-me in my head. I’d always thought that was a little freaky.

  “Ivy? Hello?” Kyle waved a hand in front of me. Oops.

  “Sorry, I zoned out for a minute.”

  “Daydreaming about my dreamy good looks?” he teased. I laughed. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

  Caleb and Dana met me at my locker third period. “Hey,” I greeted them. Dana looked downright bubbly, and Caleb was smiling affectionately at her.

  “Guess what?!” she shrieked. I winced. I definitely wouldn’t be leaving Darwin High without severe ear damage.

  “The moon is made of cheese!”

  Caleb suppressed a laugh at Dana’s irritated look. “No! Would you quit it with the moon cheese already? Jason asked me to Homecoming!”

  “That’s great news!”

  We gushed and gossiped and went girly on poor Caleb, who looked like he wanted to
be anywhere else.

  “I’ll bet he’ll look even more delicious in a tux!” Dana dreamed.

  “What are you gonna wear? Oh my gosh, we need to get you a dress!”

  Caleb cleared his throat. “I’m going to, ah, go lift weights. Or some other manly thing.” We watched as he disappeared faster than a cartoon character.

  Happy for my friend, I shelved my books in my locker when a note came fluttering out.

  Have you done your stretches?

  I hid the note before Dana could spot it. There was no doubt to the identity of the sender. If he thought I was going to fawn all over him, he had another think coming. I was immune to his charms.

  Keep telling yourself that.

  My next three periods dragged. We were asked to share information about ourselves in language arts, something I thought was unnecessary. What if someone in the classroom was a future axe murderer?

  After writing my homework for math, I put my stuff away and waited out the cafeteria rush. Dana had already bought our lunches.

  “It’s a grilled cheese today,” she informed me as I plunked onto the seat beside her. Caleb sat in front of us, engrossed in a magazine. I snatched it from his hands.

  “Hey!” he protested.

  “No reading at the table, dear. Bad Caleb. Eat your lunch Mister!”

  He rolled his eyes but took a bite of his lunch obediently. “There. Now gimme my magazine.”

  I handed it to him while Dana laughed at his sulkiness. “We can’t help but be mother hens, Caleb-Poo. But you know you love us.”

  He pointed his fork at her and narrowed his eyes. “Call me that again and you’ll have to go to Homecoming with one eye.”

  Before Dana could reply, the cafeteria doors opened and the Plastics entered, fashionably late as always. They sat at their table, reveling in the attention of the cafeteria. They were pretty. They were smart. They were popular.

  They were the Plastics.

  Last to enter, again, was Asher. I averted my gaze quickly. I had no desire for him to remember what happened yesterday. Hopefully he had forgotten and moved on.

  “Jason’s favorite color is green. Should I wear a green dress?” Dana asked me thoughtfully.

  “Only if he wears a purple tux.”