by Ward, H. M.
“Holy shit.” I blink like I didn’t just see that.
“I know, right?” Peter says, looking baffled.
“What the hell was that? I mean, I’ve seen a lot of crazy dances, but that looked awesome. I’m not even sure what they did.”
“Neither am I. That’s why I wanted to show you. I’ve seen plenty of moves, too. This one is a variation of other stuff, kind of mashed together. That dip at the end looked like a modified death spiral.”
I glance at him. “You realize this could be fake, right? I mean, how did she get that kind of height? He didn’t seem to throw her, and she didn’t jump.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not. This is a dance studio in New York. It’s the video to used attract new students, so it shouldn’t be fake.”
“Play the end again.” Peter rewinds the dance and plays it again. We both stare at it, trying to figure out what they did. Part of the problem is that the camera is at a bad angle. I can’t see their hands right before the lift. I shake my head and point at the screen, saying as much to Peter.
“I know,” he admits. “I was hoping we could figure it out.” I give him a look that says, hell no. “What? No spirals?”
“I’m not doing anything with you where my head gets that close to the floor, so no.”
“Why not? I thought if you were okay with throws, you’d be okay with this.”
I shake my head and glance at the yellow wooden floor and think about getting my face ripped off if he drops me mid-spin. “No. No way.”
“No way?” he’s smiling. “Well, now we have to do it.” Peter takes my hands and pulls me up off the bleachers.
I laugh and tug away from him. “You don’t even know how to do it. You can’t be serious.”
“I’m always serious.”
“More like you’re never serious.”
He laughs. “Yeah, that too.” Peter folds his arms over his chest. He’s wearing his white dress shirt, but removed the tie. Dark slacks cling to his narrow hips and those saddle shoes are on his feet. Dark hair hangs in his eyes. “No dips? No head dives?”
“Nope. Sorry.”
“What if I gave you a helmet?” Peter’s eyes sparkle a little too much. He’s teasing me.
“Then I would definitely say no. The helmet means you expect my head to collide with the floor. Besides, it’ll ruin my awesome outfit.” I hold onto the hem of my dress and pull it out as if I’m going to curtsey.
“Ah,” he says, walking toward me. Peter slips his hands around my waist and music clicks on. He starts dancing, pulling me along with him. “Then, there is a possibility.”
“What part of no is confusing you? I thought you were an English teacher. You seriously have issues with this?” I’m smiling. I love teasing him. Peter’s face lights up and he teases right back.
“First you said no, then you said defiantly no. So, I’m thinking there’s wiggle room.” He grins and pulls my wrist. We both spin, and then I follow his lead and shoot out from him. Peter tugs me back and I twirl into his chest and the dance resumes.
My breathing is harder. The dance is getting faster. “We’re not wiggling anything.”
“Are you sure? You’d look cute in a helmet. I have a pink one with a red bow on top.” I stop dancing and try to stand there and stare at him, but Peter doesn’t let me. “No stopping, Colleli.” He snaps my wrist and pulls me to his chest. Damn, he smells good.
We swirl around the gym, talking, teasing. The subject rolls over a million different topics. Then, he asks, “Do you trust me?”
The smile slips off my face. My face is covered in a sweaty sheen and my dress is stuck to my body. I look into his eyes. They’re locked on mine, waiting for an answer to a question that I thought he’d never ask. “I… don’t know.”
Peter nods and looks down at his feet. When he looks up again, I feel horrible. It’s as though that was the worst thing I could have possibly said to him. “That’s something I hope for.” He rubs the toe of his shoe against the gym floor. His shirt is wrinkled, stuck to his chest.
“Why?” I breathe. It seems so pointless. Why would it even matter?
He smiles sadly. “I don’t know. I shouldn’t have asked you something like that.”
“You can ask me anything.” I look down at my hands. They’re together and I’m twisting my index finger. “I guess, I do trust you to some degree, probably more than I trust anyone else, but I don’t think that’s what you’re asking.”
“What did you think I was asking?” He’s so close. Peter stepped into the space between us. He’s looking down into my face, watching me so closely. It makes me shiver.
“I thought you meant, do I implicitly trust you with my life. With a throw like that. With anything and everything.” I shake my head. “I’ll never trust anyone that way again.”
He nods slowly. “You’re an enigma.”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “Maybe.”
“You trust, but you don’t. You let me in, but you keep me out.” The way he’s looking at me makes me nervous. Peter’s gaze is so intense, so raw and vulnerable. Maybe I should have lied? No, he can see through me. He doesn’t need dancing for that. Peter holds up his hands. I take them and he leads me across the room in a slower waltz so I can catch my breath.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask as Peter leads us across the room. He nods. “Where’d you learn to dance?”
A shadow creeps over his face and his smile disappears. “Gina. My girlfriend. I keep calling her my fiancé, but she wasn’t.” He swallows hard and lets out a rush of air. We turn around the floor as he speaks. “She liked to dance. I sucked at it. She taught me.” He smiles sadly.
“She taught you well.”
He nods and a fake smile lines his lips. I can tell that he’s chasing away old memories with a broom. Peter’s gone silent. We dance. He spins me slowly. My dress flares out around my knees. He watches the fabric flutter before pulling me back into position. “What about you? Who taught you to dance?”
“I’m self-taught for the most part. I don’t really know what anything is called. We talked my gym teacher into doing a unit on dance in high school. Weird but true. Way better than volleyball again. I can only get hit in the face so many times a day.”
He laughs. “Volleyball’s not your thing?”
“Coordination’s not my thing.”
“But, you’re dancing.”
I smile up at him. “And you’re leading. It’s different. For one, there are no balls.” My face flames red when I realize what I just said.
Peter chuckles and shakes his head. “Well, I might disagree, but since we’re not playing with them, I’ll just pretend you didn’t say it.”
I try not to laugh, but I can’t help it. I try to pull my hands away and slap him, but Peter grips me tighter. The playful smile slips off my face when he holds me that way. We stop moving and stare at each other. My lips are parted. There was something I was going to say.
Peter looks down at me, his face so close to mine. His breath tickles my lips as he breathes. I want to lean into him. I want his arms around me. I don’t know what he’s thinking. When time stops like this, Peter looks lost. His entire body tenses and relaxes at the same time. I wish he’d do something, say something.
All the air is being forced out of my lungs. “What are you thinking?”
“Nothing,” he breathes, still watching me. His eyes flick back and forth between mine. His gaze doesn’t dip to my lips.
A slow smile spreads across my face. “Liar.” I lean in closer and press my forehead against his. “Just tell me.”
Peter’s hands find my cheeks and then slip back into my hair. He holds me for a second and breathes, “I can’t.”
“Peter…” his gaze lifts. I feel like he punched me in the stomach. There’s so much there, so much pain and affection and turmoil. It kills me. I can feel his agony when I look into his eyes. I take his hands and put one on my waist. “Dance with me. Stop thinking for a whil
e.” He nods, and says nothing.
Neither of us speaks again. Peter leads me around the floor, changing the dance as we go along. We lose track of time. It isn’t until I hear Millie’s loud whistle that we stop. Peter nods at me and heads to the cooler to grab a bottle of water.
Millie walks over to me with her eyes bugging out of her head. “What the hell was that?”
I walk into the hallway to find the girl’s room. I need to splash water on my face. “What was what?”
Millie follows me. She grabs my arm before I can push through the bathroom door. I whirl around. “You like him.”
“I do not. We were practicing something. You’ll see it in a few minutes. Let me wash my face off. It’s too damn hot in there.” I try not to sound bitchy, but fail. I’m too defensive, too fast to get out of there.
Millie opens her mouth to counter my claim and follows me into the bathroom. She looks under the stalls, and when she knows we’re alone, she says, “Do not do this.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Sidney, don’t lie to me. Can you honestly tell me that there’s nothing between you two?” Her hands are on her hips. She’s looking at me in the mirror.
“There’s nothing. I don’t know what you think you see, but maybe you should have your eyes checked.” I splash water on my face. I have on waterproof mascara, but it’ll run if I rub my eyes. I grab a paper towel and pat my face dry.
“You wouldn’t say it that way if I said you were sleeping with Dusty.”
“Uh, you’re right, because I’d choke on my vomit. What’s with you?” I turn around and lean back on the sinks. “You’re the one who wanted me to come and do this. Peter’s my boss. I’m his TA. And yes, I call him Peter the same way I called Dr. Tadwick, Tony.”
“You called Dr. Anthony Tadwick, Tadwick. You never called him Tony, not to me.” She looks concerned and she shouldn’t be. Millie sighs and rubs the side of her head. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”
“God, why do people keep saying that?”
“Sidney, that’s usually a pretty good sign that a big truck load of stupid is about to mow you down. Listen to your friends. Don’t screw your prof. Sleep with guys your own age.” She sounds like she knows everything, which pisses me off.
“How many guys have I slept with in the entire time I’ve known you?”
“I don’t know? You want an exact number?” She’s leaning toward the mirror, fixing her eye make-up.
“Just guess. Best estimate, based on lingerie, dates, make-up, and whatever else you can think of. Tell me how many guys you think it’s been.”
She’s quiet for a moment and then shakes her head. “I don’t remember hearing you talk about anyone like that.”
“Am I talking about anyone like that now?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “But that doesn’t mean—”
“It doesn’t mean what? Millie, what do you want from me? You set me up with guys, I tag along with you, I do every little thing you ask me to, and then I find some guy that I actually get along with and what? You’re telling me to stay away from him?”
“He’s a professor, Sidney. You’re going to get in trouble.”
“For what? For being his friend? For not sleeping with him? For not fucking him the first day he was here? Exactly what did I do wrong, because I’m not seeing it?” I’m yelling. I don’t mean to, but I am. “You know what. Forget it. I’m not talking about this with you.”
“You almost slept with him?” I shake my head and put up my hands, as if it’ll deaden my ears to her words. “Sidney, wait.” She chases me out of the ladies room and down the hallway. “Where are you going?”
I’m leaving the gym. I feel bad about ditching Peter, but I can’t do this. I feel like I’m going to fall apart. I need to calm down. I slam open the doors to outside and go sit in the parking lot. I’m leaning against a car, and tuck my head so no one can see my face. I breathe deeply, trying to calm down. I left my phone and everything inside.
What the hell is wrong with me? Why did I flip out on her? Millie didn’t say anything bad, not really. It wasn’t like Dusty telling me the rumors. Maybe that’s what’s bothering me. I made the rumors worse. Damn it. I sit on the car for a while, wondering how stupid I am. Maybe I shouldn’t be hanging around Peter at all. It makes me sick to think about not seeing him every day, but maybe Millie’s right. Maybe I should be going after guys my own age.
Am I really hung up on Peter? Is that why I haven’t had a date since January? It can’t be Peter. That’s not it. There are plenty of guys that are hot. I should find one and start over. But why?
To be normal. To start over.
My life has been stuck on pause for way too long. No boyfriend, no dating, no swooning over some guy, wondering when I’m going to see him again. Unless I count Peter.
Don’t count Peter.
The night air is thick. My dress is clinging to me. I glance down and notice my cleavage is glistening. Damn it. I look all whorish. I fan myself, thinking I’m alone. It’s much more humid than usual, as though it might rain. Just when I think I’m ready to go inside, I see someone walking toward me.
“Hey, if it’s not the techie TA.” Mark from Peter’s morning English class drops a bunch of books on the hood and walks over to me. I avert my gaze. My face is on fire. I feel the blush down to my toes. Holy shit, did he see me fanning my boobs?
He scooches next to me. “Are you okay?” He tries to get a glimpse of my face, but I don’t let him.
I nod. “Fine.” My voice squeaks.
He laughs. “Ah, cuz it looks like you’re not fine, all avoiding my gaze like that. And, not fine has some obligatory obligations that go with it.” He’s leaning on his hands, and not looking at me. The way he says it makes me smile, but I still feel stupid.
I glance up at him. “Obligatory obligations?”
Mark nods, “Yeah, like tissues, totally. And maybe a ride home, ‘cuz it would be lowly of me to make you walk.” He ducks his head to the side and tries to catch my eye. I glance at him and give a weak smile. “That’s better. Wait ‘til you see the tissues. Prepare to have your mind blown.” He moves around to the driver’s side and comes back with a box. I thought he was kidding, but when he holds them out, I can’t help it.
My jaw drops and I grab for one. “Wow. These are really tissues?” I feel the soft tissue in my hand, but the thing is glowing. I dab my brow and my neck. My body is covered in little beads of sweat. It’s so frickin’ hot.
“Yup. I got ‘em off the internet. The only horrible side effect is that your nose, or wherever, will glow green for a while when everyone shuts out the lights.”
I stop and stare at him. “What?”
There must be knifes shooting out of my eyeballs, because he holds up his hands and says, “Just kidding, pretty lady. I just wanted to see you smile again.” Mark bumps his shoulder into mine. I can’t help it, I grin. “There it is. You made my night. Please sit on my car anytime you want. It’s usually unlocked. Feel free to sit inside, if it’s raining or what-have-you.”
I nod. “Thanks, Mark.”
“No problem, babe. You want a ride somewhere?” He’s so sweet. The guy has been around me all semester, but this is the first time he’s really talked to me. During class, I’ve caught him looking my way, but I thought I imagined it. He’s too cute and way too popular to be talking to me. I can see why there’s always a group of people around him.
I look back at the gym. This guy is my age and he’s really sweet, but…
“No, thanks. I need to head back in. But thanks for this.” I hold up the tissues. “By the way, if my boobs glow green tonight, I’m gonna hunt you down.”
He laughs so hard he nearly falls off the car. “Totally didn’t expect that from you. But, feel free. Green boobs or not, you can hunt me down anytime.” He smirks at me before ducking into his car. I watch him pull away, then head inside.
CHAPTER 17
I’m sitting on
the bleachers when Peter sees me. He walks over and sits next to me. “I thought you ditched me.”
“I thought about it, but I didn’t want to make you look bad in front of all these kids. Millie pissed me off. Well, it’s not Millie. It’s everyone. They’re talking.” I’m picking at my nails as I’m speaking. When did I start telling him every little thing? I look at Peter out of the corner of my eye. He’s your friend, stupid. Of course you tell him stuff.
Peter looks puzzled. “They’re talking about what?”
“About us. I’ve heard everything from you knocked me up, to you’re doing me in your office, and that TA means something else entirely. Get it? T and A? Har har. It’s hysterical.” I make a face and watch a couple of kids trying to dance in front of us. Another couple bumps into them.
Peter gives me a strange look and then laughs. He runs his hands over his head, rumpling his hair. “Damn. I finally have a platonic relationship with a woman and look where it gets me.”
“I know right? You scoundrel, you.” I’m leaning on my hands, with my elbows on my knees. There are more people here tonight. The music is blasting and the air is warm. Someone propped open the back door. The night air drifts in slowly and smells sweet, like honeysuckle.
“So, what’d you tell them?”
“I told one person that I have a mad crush on you. I kind of freaked out on her a little bit when she told me what people were saying. I needed a diversion. And Millie, well, I just bit her head off. No explanation.” I stare straight ahead.
Peter clears his throat. I look at him out of the corner of my eye. He’s grinning. “You defended me? And what, my honor? I thought I was supposed to do that for you?”
I smirk and turn toward him. Peter’s face is glistening from dancing. Damn, it’s hot in here. The no air conditioning thing is rough. My eyes drift to his shoulders and down his chest. Peter’s shirt is sticking to his chest and is very wrinkled. He looks good. There’s more color in his cheeks, more life in his eyes than when he first got here.
