by Maya William
The picture breaks my heart, bringing me almost to tears. The fact it reminds me of the dance we did yesterday only hits me harder.
“The damnation of the fallen angel,” Lyra explains when I stop the slideshow to study it.
When I move to the next slide, my hands fly to cover my mouth. In the picture, we kneel, facing each other. Samuel’s lips press against my forehead, and my shut eyes give the impression of me enjoying the soft and tender gesture.
In the next photo, his face is inches from mine, and the way the shadows fall on our lips makes it look as if they’re touching, making my heart ache, yearning for that moment to occur. I wonder if my imagination can do any justice to what it would feel for him to kiss me.
I always thought of photography as a form of art. Back in boarding school, I covered my bare walls with some lovely inspirational pieces of ballet dancers, but I never understood all the hard work that went into it. The timing needs to be perfect, mixing it with the proper elements to make sure the picture comes to life in the mind of the person appreciating it, creating a story behind every frame.
“You’re a genius, Lyra,” I state after the final one in the slide show. “They’re all amazing.”
Her face lights up. “You’re too kind and too patient with all the hard work I made you do. I owe you an apology.” She bites her lip and glances at me. “It wasn’t fair for me to ask you to stay in the cold rain. You were helping me, and I went a little overboard with the photoshoot.”
“I never imagined the photos would turn out like this. The final result proved it was totally worth it.” I point at the monitor, momentarily distracted by the picture of the kiss. “The only time I was terrified was in the shots where I was in the tree.”
She laughs. “Those were probably the safest. Abigail tested the harness at least twenty times before the photoshoot, willingly throwing herself from the branch to make sure it worked properly.”
Abigail did what?
“Believe me when I tell you she would not have allowed you to use it if it didn’t pass her quality checks,” she adds when she catches my stunned expression. “She lectured me after the session about making you and Samuel pose in the rain. She was really worried about you getting sick because of it.”
Abigail was actually concerned for me? Yeah, right.
“I’ll send you the picture files,” she promises, keeping her gaze on the screen. “My personal favorite is this one.”
She clicks on a closeup of our faces. It only reveals my profile, but Samuel’s face shows perfectly. He looks fiercely at me, his hands holding my cheeks as if I’m his most valuable possession.
A sigh escapes me at the same time Lyra declares she clicked on the wrong picture.
But he looks so cute.
Instead, she pulls up one where I perform a split on the ground while Samuel appears to be flying over me, doing a mid-split in the air.
The previous one was the best one, if you ask me.
“Samantha, can I give you a piece of advice?” she asks.
I nod, my gaze still glued to the monitor.
“Be careful with Samuel.” My head snaps in her direction. “He has a lot on his plate right now, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
My gaze falls to the floor, and I remain quiet.
“Let him be the one to take the first step.” She closes the picture and turns the monitor off. “Believe me when I tell you, love needs to be reciprocated. Otherwise, it can be painful and hard to get over, once you set your heart up for it,” she adds sadly, her expression stony.
A thousand questions cross my mind.
Noises at the entrance stop me from asking any of them. Samuel, Archie, and Joy step in carrying grocery and takeout bags. My stomach does a small flip at the sight. I’m not sure if it’s because of the food or Samuel.
Probably both?
When I glance at Lyra, she raises her eyebrows in warning.
Did she give me that advice because a guy didn’t return her affection and broke her heart? If so, who was it?
Paso Doble
I wake up in the middle of a star with me at the center, surrounded by the girls lying in a circle and the guys being its five points. As usual, I’m the first to get up.
Quietly, I move between them, trying not to wake or step on anyone. For a moment, I imagine myself inside an ancient pyramid, avoiding booby traps, figuring out the right combination of where to step to avoid the floor collapsing, or in my case, the studio floor creaking.
The Mission Impossible theme song plays in my mind while I glance over my shoulder to make sure they all remain sound asleep.
Ha-ha-ha, their Phoenix school didn’t seem to train them to be alert in case of a possible attack during their sleep.
After managing to survive the ordeal without waking anybody, I quickly take my overnight bag and go to the bathroom to change into my school uniform, brush and style my hair, and put on some light makeup. As I leave the bathroom, my hand flies to my chest as I see a shadow waiting for me outside.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!
That will teach me for being cocky about my abilities.
My breathing returns to normal when Samuel steps out from the shadows—though my heart will keep pounding for a while. “Wow, are you in a hurry to get to school?”
He’s dressed in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms, but my gaze focuses on his lovely, messy hair.
Don’t think badly of me, Big Guy, but I want to run my hands through it.
“I couldn’t sleep anymore.” I lean against the doorframe, trying to appear casual, and cross my arms to avoid the temptation to ruffle his hair.
He smiles, his sleepy eyes regarding me. “I want to run an idea by you for Joy’s present.”
His words put me on high alert.
Present? Do we need to bring presents? Darn it, how come it never occurred to me?
Mentally, I kick myself. Back in my younger days, I only attended a few parties, but common sense and social standards dictate that a guest needs to bring a present to the birthday boy or girl.
His words spike my interest. Maybe he can give me an idea for what to get Joy. “What are you thinking of?”
“Are you familiar with paso doble?” he asks.
Paso doble? Double step?
My eyebrows raise, making him chuckle. “I’ll take that as a no. Interested in learning a new type of dance?”
Hell, yeah! Sorry, Big Guy, one Hail Mary is in order.
“Sure.” I try to keep my excitement at bay; to sound cool rather than desperate.
“Then I’ll get you some dancing shoes appropriate for the dance and ask Mom if you can borrow one of her long dancing skirts. We’ll work on it in the afternoon.”
The soreness in my muscles reminds me of yesterday’s long workout and Maria’s parting words. “Aren’t we supposed to practice for the presentation?”
“Yes, but I plan to skip classes tomorrow to compensate for having less time to rehearse.” He shrugs. “So, ready to paso-doble with me, Señorita Melbourne?” He gets a hold of my waist, and in one sudden move, pulls me against him my body hitting his.
Uhm… What was the question?
He caresses my face, his eyes boring straight into mine, one of his eyebrows rising.
Can anyone sigh any louder than I just did?
“M-m-maybe?” My stutter makes me lose whatever coolness I previously achieved. Now I just sound nervous and like I lack conviction.
He chuckles and releases me, stepping away. “We’ll practice once you get back from school. And don’t forget to bring the right attitude to the dance room.”
Wait! What is the right attitude for paso doble?
“Brother, we need to make some important decisions!” Bennedick tells Legolas the moment he learns that the invitation for Joy’s party extends to the whole O’Flannagan family. “We need to rock this costume thing!”
“I don’t think so,” Legolas replies nonchalantly, his eyes to the microscope, st
udying the sample Mr. Smith gave us for today’s lab.
“Perhaps we could be Batman and Robin?” Bennedick ignores his brother’s response. “Or Mario and Luigi?”
Legolas makes some notes on his answer sheet. “How about we each decide on our own costume?”
“Ugh! Not again. How many people can pull off the whole identical twin thing?” He throws his hands up in the air and quickly lowers them while making an annoyed face at his brother. “So many fantastic ideas! You could go as Clark Kent, and I could dress as Superman! After all, I have the body to pull it off.” He lifts his arms to show me his biceps.
His mischievous expression and the way he banters with Legolas makes it hard for me not to laugh. While he’s lean and fit for a teenager, his muscles aren’t as defined as Samuel’s or even Archie’s.
“And I suggest Samantha be our Lois Lane!” He raises his eyebrows and wiggles them. “She could be our date for the party!”
My heart clenches as I try to come up with the courage to tell him Barb already picked my costume.
Legolas peels himself away from the microscope to glare at his twin. “Yesterday, you told Darcy this whole costume thing was lame.”
Bennedick chokes, his confident attitude lost for the moment. When his face turns red, I can’t help but laugh. “I-I-I-I did not say that. I was just pointing out that princess costumes are so last season.”
His reaction, however, makes me believe he told Darcy his opinion about the party.
“You were jealous because they didn’t invite you. Admit it!” Legolas adds with a triumphant smile.
“No, I wasn’t.” He steps closer to the microscope, suddenly finding it highly interesting.
Legolas shakes his head, turns toward me, and mouths, “He totally was.”
This makes me laugh harder, and Legolas joins in while his brother ignores us.
Mr. Smith shakes his head and places his hands on his hips. “Miss Melbourne, although I’m not against students discussing the results of their work, I do believe there’s nothing funny about determining the difference between plant and animal cells.”
“Sorry, Mr. Smith.” I bite my lip, holding back my laughter.
Bennedick, however, chuckles as the teacher reprimands me. I give him a light kick in the leg since it’s his fault I was lectured, which makes him chuckle more.
We continue working on the lab, drawing the cell we saw with the microscope. Legolas’s drawing of an almost exact replica puts mine to shame, but compared to Bennedick’s, mine could be considered a Rembrandt.
Mr. Smith steps closer and praises Legolas’s excellent work, giving him an A+. He then studies mine and puts an A on it. His eyebrows shoot up when he looks at Bennedick’s, and he bites his lips, holding back either a laugh or a comment. But as terrible as his drawing is, he labeled the parts of the cell correctly, earning him a B.
“Totally nailed it, bro.” He raises his hand to high-five Legolas, who shakes his head, not agreeing with his twin’s assessment.
After Mr. Smith moves to the next table, Abraham Tribecca stops at our desk together with Scarlett Kirk. “Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Loser, that’s the costumes you should wear.” He points at the twins and laughs.
“Abraham, they need to go in costume, not their usual selves,” Scarlett adds with a nasty giggle.
Bennedick momentarily sinks into his seat, averting his gaze from the annoying couple. However, Legolas stands up and walks to my side, glaring at Abraham.
Abraham sizes Legolas up, and, judging by his smirk, he doesn’t consider Legolas a threat. The difference in their heights and builds is quite noticeable.
At the sound of the bell, Abraham takes Scarlett’s hand. “Come on, Scarlett. Word got around about an exciting party on Friday, which we do not want to miss.”
He pulls her away from our table, and they turn on their heels, leaving us alone. My breath momentarily returns to my lungs when before their words come crashing down on me.
Party + Friday = Joy’s birthday party.
But with this being Halloween weekend, there must be tons of parties scheduled, which makes my previous thought highly unlikely.
I mean, what are the chances?
While I place my items in my backpack, my gaze stops on Portia, who’s talking animatedly with another person. Scarlett and Abraham are nowhere near them.
Nah! Definitely another party.
Dismissing the little nagging voice in my head, I walk to my next class, chastising myself for overreacting.
After Math, Joy, Kellan, and I head to the cafeteria together.
As we walk in, my gaze stops at Darcy’s table. I excuse myself from my friends to sit with her once again.
Her eyes widen when she notices me, and she immediately points to the seat next to her.
“There might be a problem,” she exclaims the moment my butt touches the seat.
“What’s wrong?” My stomach drops. Did she get grounded and can’t attend the party?
Her head moves from one side to the other as she makes sure no one sits close enough to overhear us.
“Somebody is having trouble keeping things quiet,” she whispers.
“Why?” I whisper back.
“Well, Jennifer told me she heard from Amanda, who heard from Zoe, that Geoffrey said he didn’t plan to dress as Eric.”
Yeah, that doesn’t make any sense at all! Who are Amanda, Zoe, Jennifer, and Geoffrey?
“I-I-I,” I stutter, not certain how to respond to this.
“Don’t you see it? Eric? As in Prince Eric from The Little Mermaid?” she explains, but I still don’t understand.
The Little Merma—OMBG!
“Well, maybe Portia plans to take somebody as her date,” I reply tentatively, remembering she likes this Geoffrey guy. After all, he plans to take her to the dance.
“Perhaps… But keep your ears open, Sammie. I’m getting a bad feeling,” Darcy says. “She might decide to invite a couple more friends to the party.”
Well, as long as it’s her date, it shouldn’t be a problem, then.
During Spanish class, our teacher warns us about the Spelling Bee coming up the following month. We need to memorize a four-hundred-word list in the following weeks. At first, it comes as a shock, but she explains that we reviewed a lot of them during the semester. According to her, it’ll be “¡Sencillito!” However, most of the class agrees she’s out of her mind, including me.
Four hundred words? Really?
But we can’t do much about it, just buckle up and brace for impact once we get the word list.
Ballet class seems to move slowly. The fact Samuel isn’t here doesn’t help at all, then sharing Knightley with Anya makes it worse; especially with the “drop her” glares she keeps giving him when he lifts me.
My nerves calm when Archie texts me that he’s waiting for me outside to “escort Lady Twinkle Toes” to Maria’s studio. I breeze through the changing room, grab my backpack, and run the heck out of there before Anya comes in to change.
Yeah, I know, Big Guy, I’m such a chicken. But do you honestly blame me if I avoid her?
We make a quick stop at Miranda’s to pick up the shoes and skirt Samuel mentioned this morning.
Miranda practically makes me swear I’ll join them on Thursday night for the weekly family dinner and warns me not to bring anything for dessert. She would rather I spent my time with her son than in a kitchen.
I assume she wants me to continue helping her sister and his son for the presentation, which I totally agree with, since the tension building in both of them is obvious.
Archie drops me off at the studio, where Melissa greets me, more excitable than usual.
“You’re in for a Latin treat,” she whispers as she nears me, while subtly moving her head to the right.
Glancing over my shoulder in the direction she indicated, I notice two young men between their mid to late twenties sitting in the small reception area.
One of the guys—the one dress
ed like a rocker—keeps touching the other, who’s dressed like a businessman, in a flirtatious manner. The recipient doesn’t seem to mind the small display of affection at all, but rather encourages it with smiles and laughter.
Their body language suggests they’re a couple.
They’re quite handsome, both dressed differently and yet perfect in their personal style.
“Guys,” Melissa says, catching their attention, “let me introduce you to one of your pupils for this evening.”
They turn toward me, and their eyes widen with a mixture of surprise and fear.
“Oh, hell no!” the rocker one snaps, shaking his head quickly.
“We did not sign up for this!” the businessman joins in, his back straight as an arrow. “We made a deal with Miranda and Chr—”
“Ahem!” Melissa clears her throat and gives them a severe look.
“We agreed that until hell freezes over, we would never attempt to come near her,” he finishes, crossing his arms over his chest.
“And last I checked, it was still hot and toasty,” the rocker jokes, making his partner’s severe expression soften.
“Will the two of you allow me to explain and introduce you to Samantha?” Melissa glares at the couple.
Both eye each other and laugh out loud.
“Nice try, M, but we won’t be fooled.” The rocker stands and grabs his gym bag.
“Maria said for you to wait here for her.” Melissa reaches for her cell phone, which rests on her desk. “If I were you, I’d obey.”
For a moment, they hesitate, their eyes narrowing at her when she appears to dial her phone.
“Not worth it,” Rocker Boy declares, throwing his shoulders back. “We’d rather face Maria’s, or even Miranda’s, wrath than try to teach her to dance ever again.” He rudely points at me.
Darn it! I am not Abigail.
Business Guy nods in agreement and picks up his bag. They turn on their heels, heading toward the entrance.
“Maria, they plan to make a run for it!” Melissa urgently says into the phone, making the couple come to a screeching halt—or at least Rocker Boy’s sneakers do.
