DANCE OR DIE: Two Guys, One Girl. No Voice. No Choice.

by A. E. Murphy

The song stops and a new one comes on.

  “Taki Taki?” I question, my lips twitching.

  He tears his eyes away from the swell of my breasts, hidden behind my black, satin feel sports bra. It’s my most comfortable one. I don’t have any pretty underwear. Not yet anyway.

  “It’s just background noise,” he replies and we take our first positions. “Do you remember the moves?”

  Nodding, I begin, turning towards him, catching myself when he pushes me away. We dance, screwing up the moves a couple of times but it’s funny. We start again over and over but we progress more than we did in class this morning.

  We weave around each other’s bodies. Limbs twisting and dancing until we’re both drenched in sweat and breathless.

  At one point he deviates and dances like an idiot just to make me laugh, he twists his feet in and out and swings his knees until I throw his shoe at him to get him to stop.

  He’s fun. He’s a lot of fun.

  “Can’t handle all this sexiness?” he asks, eyes alight with humor and something else. Not quite excitement but close enough to it.

  He spins me out and then pulls me back in so I collide with his damp wife-beater.

  Our eyes meet and my heart starts to pound in my head. I’m thirsty… but not for water.

  He lets his eyes trail over my face and down my body, imprinting the image to memory as he draws a line down the center of my stomach with his index finger. I shiver in response and tingles pop all over my body. My thighs clench together and my womb burns with desire. Desire I’ve never felt. “Your abs are so tight.”

  “Can we dance?” I ask, pushing his hand away. Sure, his touch and attentions are making me feel good, but really it’s hollow. He’ll fuck me, find his pleasure and deny it to everyone tomorrow, or tell them I’m shit, or easy. Either way I’m not about to fall for his pretty boy tricks.

  Smiling, he wraps my arms around his neck. “Absolutely.”

  “Carter,” I warn, stepping back. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t?” He looks surprised. “Don’t what?”

  “Make it about this.”

  He scrapes his perfect teeth over his lower lip. “Make it about what?”

  “Whatever it is you’re wanting. You don’t even like me.”

  “I don’t know you,” he admits, pushing his brown hair back from his face. It’s damp from perspiration, so it stays back, and I didn’t think he could be any more attractive until now. “I want to kiss you though.”

  “Why? Because you think I’m easy?”

  “No,” he says around a chuckle. “Because I think you’re gorgeous.”

  “Fine.” I raise my chin, daring him to approach. “Kiss me.”

  “The moment left the dance floor, priss. Forget it.” He pads barefoot to his phone and checks the time. “One more round? Then I’ll take you home.”

  “You don’t have to; I can walk back.”

  “I don’t ditch for laziness, Scandal.” When he returns to me, at the moment he speaks my name, he cups my cheek with his hand and his thumb tugs on my lower lip. I’ve been touched there before but never like this, never so tenderly. I almost regret rejecting him. “One more time?”

  I clear my throat and get back into position, hands around his neck as he restarts our chosen backing track. “One more time.”

  He drops his phone on the mat and his head descends, soft, warm lips touch mine. It sends a zing of intense pleasure through my body, but also a zing of intense confusion because I wasn’t expecting it.

  I hesitate for a moment as his large hands span my narrow waist and his thumb pads dance across the surface of my skin. Goose bumps break out across my body and our tongues meet.

  It’s so soft and tender, exactly like his touch before. A contrast to the boy who appears in everyday life.

  “You’re trembling,” he whispers against my lips after parting a fraction. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

  His words bring my attention to my body and how it’s responding, the racing of my heart, the sweating of my palms, the dire need of the monster lurking inside of me.

  “We should go.” I slide out of his grasp and his hands drop to his sides.

  “I’ll take you home.”

  “Do you want me to do the cycling this time?”

  His brown eyes light up with humor. “Reckon you can?”

  “Probably not. I don’t know how to ride a bike.”

  Those eyes that lit up, lose their sparkle. “What? Seriously? Nobody ever taught you?”

  “No.” I watch him dress himself and wonder if everything has changed now. Will he be nicer in school? Will he call off Presley?

  He takes my hand as though it’s the most natural thing in the world, turns off the lights, and leads me out into the dark.

  It takes me a few moments to adjust despite the stars in the sky.

  “I never understood that saying,” I murmur as we clasp palms between us.

  “What saying?”

  “Stars in the sky.”

  He looks up too. “But they are in the sky.”

  “No, they’re beyond the sky, far beyond. In the sky is just too confining for something so incredible.”

  He hums with thought and we both just keep looking up until we reach the fence.

  He kisses me after we both drop to the other side, then he gets on his bike and takes me home as promised. This time he purposely rests his chin on my shoulder and I have a smile on my face all the way home.

  “You left your phone behind,” Lane says softly when I walk in, still giddy, five minutes before curfew.

  “Sorry, I just kind of left in a rush.”

  “It’s okay, just don’t forget again. I tried calling you and when you didn’t answer I panicked. I’m new to this whole parenting thing.”

  I smile apologetically. “Won’t happen again.”

  “Did you have fun?”

  I nod and race up the stairs. “I need to pee.”

  “She back?” I hear Stanley ask and then I hear Curlyfry come bounding into the house, claws sliding on the wooden floor downstairs.

  “Curly,” I call, patting my thigh and his paws hit the stairs next. He almost tackles me to the ground, making me squeak unattractively. But he makes up for it by waiting for me in the hall as I shower. Then he ruins it by trying to lick my damp shins as I skip across the hall to my room.

  Flat dog tongue on bare skin is weird AF. No, thanks.

  I lock him out while I put on clean pajamas, then let him in with a stern lecture on how to behave around people and check my phone.

  There’s a knock on my door not long later.

  “Come in.”

  The door opens revealing Stanley, he covers his eyes playfully. “Is it safe?”

  “Oh har har, very funny.”

  “My name’s Bugs Bunny,” he finishes and confusion sets in. When he sees my face he clears his throat. “Didn’t your mom use to say that to you?”

  I tense, pulling my knees to my chest. “I don’t want to talk about that bitch.”

  “I can imagine.” He looks away for a moment. “I knew her back in the day.”

  “Back in the day?”

  “Before you were born, before I got deployed for the second time. Iraq.”

  “Is that why you took me in? Out of some obligation to her?”

  He steps further into the room and sits on the end of my bed. He looks tormented by something. “I wasn’t good to your mom.”

  “Well, let’s call it backwards karma, she had it coming,” I grumble and look back at my phone.

  He places a red card on the bed. “I got you a new sim card, unlimited texts and data.”

  His gift surprises me. “Why? I haven’t earned my keep.”

  “Well, maybe you can come and help out in the shop a little more?”

  I smile at the thought. I really enjoyed it in there. The casual banter with his coworkers, annoying Stanley with a myriad of questions. “Can we drive again?”

  �
�Sure.”

  I pick up the card that holds my new sim card and smile. “Thank you for having me, Stanley.”

  He pats my fluffy foot after hesitating for a moment, and then he leaves, closing the door behind him.

  I fix my new sim card into my phone and send a text to all the people I want to have my new number.

  Alice calls me immediately.

  “I kissed Carter,” I say at the screen and her answering scream makes me mute it for a moment.

  “Was he good? Are his lips as soft as they look?”

  I nod and flop back onto the bed, holding my phone above my face. “I got fuzzy tingles all over my body, like somebody was tickling me with feathers under my skin.”

  “That’s so hot. The last time I kissed a boy all I got was dribble down my chin and an instant hatred for Cheez-Its.”

  Giggling like a normal teen, I roll onto my side and clench with excitement. “Do you think this will mean we’re dating now? Or is he a boy who just likes to kiss girls?”

  “I haven’t seen him dating anyone since middle school. He’s always too focused on his dance and crew.”

  “Maybe he’s just really private,” I mumble, finding it unlikely that a guy like Carter hasn’t dated.

  “I mean, there are rumors about all the girls he has slept with. Many wear that badge of pride.”

  I cringe. “That’s gross.”

  “Means he’ll be good for your first time.”

  My heart stops and my eyes flash to the box on my desk, a constant reminder of the pain inflicted on my childhood. “I’m not a virgin, Alice.”

  “What?” she gasps, her mouth opening, but then she looks up and deducts, “That’s actually not that surprising.”

  As if sensing the pain thrumming through my body at the memories of my stolen childhood, Curlyfry licks my face and rests his massive head on the side of mine.

  “That is so cute,” Alice says, using a baby voice. “Who’s a good Curlyfry?”

  “I’m gonna go.” I give her a soft smile. “I’m beat.”

  “More like you just want to see that handsome hunk’a teen fuck-boy tomorrow.”

  “That too. See you later.”

  “Byeeee.”

  I roll over and hug the big beast of a dog, burying my fingers in his soft fur.

  Then I close my eyes, lick leftover toothpaste from my lips, and sleep.

  “Hey, Mall… Mallory…”

  I peek open my eyes, holding my favorite teddy to my chest. It’s a puppy. I love puppies but Uncle says I’m not allowed a real one.

  “Landon?” I whisper, looking into the face of my cousin. My eyes sting. I’m so tired.

  I love my cousin, but he never lets me play with him. He says I’m too young to play with a big boy like him. He says seven-year-old girls are babies. It made me cry. I’m not a baby. He’s only twelve but he tells people he’s a teenager.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Remember how you keep saying you want to be a big girl?”

  I nod and sit up. His hand is on my thigh, my nightgown has bunched up around my hips.

  “Do you want to be a big girl with me?”

  I nod again, maybe he’ll start letting me play football.

  “I saw this online. I want to try it, okay? But you have to be really quiet.”

  “Okay,” I breathe, eyes no longer stinging.

  “You promise?”

  I nod eagerly and he grips the sides of my panties and starts to peel them down my legs.

  A scream tears out of my throat, making it hoarse and sore. My door flies open so fast it hits the wall behind it.

  “Mallory!” a man shouts, gripping my wrists.

  “NO. No. No,” I beg, feeling my chest constrict with panic. “No. Please. No. No. No.”

  “Mallory, it’s me, it’s Stanley. Wake up. WAKE UP!”

  My eyes ping open when I realize I’m not back there again. I pull my arms free and look at my phone. I didn’t miss any alarms. There are no icons to say I missed them. It’s three in the morning.

  “Who disabled my alarms?” I look accusingly between him and Lane, shoulders shaking with each ragged breath. “WHO DISABLED MY ALARMS?”

  “We both did,” Lane replies and I feel a stab of betrayal. “We just wanted you to sleep well.”

  “Sleep?” I whisper, pulling my knees up to my chest. “In my world there’s no such thing as sleep and there never has been.”

  “Waking up every hour isn’t good for you.”

  “It works fine for me,” I shout, feeling more and more irate by the second. “Why do you have to meddle?”

  “We didn’t realize,” Stanley explains, his face illuminated by the glow of the moon through the window and the light from the hall that spills across my bed where he sits. Lane’s shadow casts across his lap. My shadow never leaves me, forever drenching me in darkness. “You don’t ever talk to us about your past.”

  “I don’t like talking about it, what’s the point?”

  “It might help.” Lane folds her arms tight across her stomach. “Talking about it might he—”

  “It won’t help anybody,” I snap, shaking my head at her. “It won’t help me to talk about it, and it won’t help you to know about it.”

  “But there is something?” Stanley asks, looking far more emotional than I anticipated for a guy like him. He’s always so solid looking, so strong, so to see his eyes water and his large chest tense just doesn’t make sense to me. “You were hurt.”

  When I don’t speak, he places his hand on my knee, letting it hover for a moment. I move my legs out of the way and his hand returns to his lap.

  “Please talk to me.”

  “Get out,” I beg, my tone a hiss. Neither of them moves. “GET OUT!” I cover my ears with my hands and press my face into my knees. “GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!”

  “Mallory—”

  “MY NAME ISN’T MALLORY! GET THE FUCK OOOOOUT!”

  Even the dog flees my presence and I don’t stop screaming until the door shuts behind them.

  I get dressed, hurriedly, putting on my dance uniform because I’m not skipping school, I just need to get out of this room.

  How could they do that to me? Don’t they understand anything? Why do they have to try and fix me and change the way I do things? If I’m okay, if I’m being good and I’m happy…

  What if they get rid of me now?

  I ready myself to climb out of the window but then think better of it. I could run away, get chased again, put more strain on my relationship with the Oaks family… but then where would I end up?

  They mean well, I think. They’re just doing what people who love other people do.

  Is this it now?

  Will they get rid of me?

  “Fuck it,” I mutter and push open my window, but then I close it again.

  I don’t know what to do.

  “Scandal?” Stanley calls through the wood of my door. “I heard your window open; I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He taps on the wood when I don’t reply. “Scandal?”

  The door opens and the room fills with light. His overbearing shadow casts across the ground, getting smaller as he approaches.

  “Are you okay?” he asks on a breath, so quietly I hardly hear him. “Please tell me you’re okay.”

  “Are you going to send me away?”

  “No.” He places his hand on my shoulder. “Never.”

  I turn to face him, tears in my eyes, wondering how a girl my age with my attitude and history got this house over all the young kids in foster care that need love.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” he utters, his voice full of emotion. He cups my cheek with his hand, again, hesitating before it connects as though giving me a chance to push him away. “I promise. This is your home for as long as you want it.”

  I step into his body, wrapping my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek against his chest. He chokes on a noise and returns the embrace, holding me tight, making me fee
l safer than I’ve ever felt.

  My tears soak his shirt and I feel his hit the parting of my hair.

  “It’s going to be okay.” He holds me tighter. “I’m never going to let anybody hurt you again.”

  Nobody has ever said that before. I believe him.

  He leans back after a moment and cups my cheek again. “Go on. Go to bed. Set as many fucking alarms as you want.”

  “You swore in the house,” I comment and his sadness holds a smile. “I’m telling Lane.”

  He kisses my forehead and steps away completely. “You’re always going to have a home here. Always. No matter what.”

  I believe that too.

  I want to question why. I want to ask but I don’t. I’m tired, and for the first time in my entire life, I go to bed feeling loved.

  My alarm wakes me up an hour later. Then an hour after that. And an hour after that and I have a feeling nobody will mention it again.

  “Hey,” Carter says, approaching me on his bike again, except this time it’s morning and I haven’t left with Stanley for school yet. “Can we talk?”

  I look at Stanley who nods. “I’ll wait in the car.”

  Thanking him, I walk to the other side of the driveway with Carter whose hair is a mess on his head from the wind but he still looks incredible.

  “About the kiss,” he grumbles, getting straight to the point as he scratches the slight stubble on his jaw. He must be in between shaving days.

  “Let me guess, it didn’t mean anything?”

  “No,” he gently touches my arm. “No, it’s not that. I mean, it was great. You were great.”

  I blow out a breath, feeling my bubble of excitement begin to lose air.

  “I was just wondering if we could keep it between ourselves… just until I speak to Presley.”

  I laugh once. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I’m not going to be an asshole like I was, and I really do want to kiss you again. But Presley is my best friend and he can’t stand you.”

  I roll my eyes at that; despite the fact I know it’s true. “Look, you don’t have to make excuses—”

  “I’m not making excuses to ditch you. If I wasn’t interested, I never would have kissed you.”

  “Whatever, Carter. Don’t worry. I’m not about to tell people we’re getting married. I’ll go back to pretending you don’t exist.” This sucks ass.