Breaking Promises (B-Boy #1)
Page 2
“Clothes are clothes,” she replied calmly.
“Not when the fabric touches your vagina!” I cringed, eyeing her yoga mat. Having grown up around mats all my life, I was fully knowledgeable in what sorts of bacteria crawled around the sweat-covered rubbers. “Now I have to wash everything—again.”
Despite my raised voice, Clemence looked unaffected. “You really need to learn how to relax, Aurora…aura. Your name sounds like aura.”
“Erm, well, just call me Aurora, because that’s my name.” I shook my head in exasperation. Suddenly, I knew I was going to complain to the RA. There was no way I’d feel safe sleeping at night with the likes of Miss Unicorn over there.
Clemence pressed on. “You’re aura’s all splotchy and full of holes. Tell me, did you have an accident of some sort? Something around your neck?”
The blood immediately drained from my face. “How…?”
I shook my head, figuring that she had Googled me. Ohio had a field day writing about my ‘unfortunate accident.’ It was a front-page story for a couple of days.
“Just don’t touch my things, okay? In fact, don’t go near my stuff.”
She shrugged once again and immediately dropped back onto her knees, arching her back. Straightening, she pulled her hips up into a downward facing dog. “Whatever you say, roomie.”
Mitch
The soles of my sneakers squeaked against the newly polished floor of the Student Center, which was basically a mecca for all of Cal State’s students. From fast food, to weird lounges, to the bookstore, the Center had it all; including a sizable amount of girls I had screwed with last semester.
Ducking my head, I jetted between groups of students, hoping to make it to the cafeteria undetected. To my relief, I made it unscathed, only to see that girl once again. She was still alone and looked rather pissed off. I watched, entertained, as she shoved a forkful of lettuce into her mouth, chewing it like I’d imagine a lion munching on a gazelle.
Despite feeling starved, I found myself ignoring my rumbling stomach and walking straight up to her.
“Are you stalking me now? I’m seriously not in the mood,” she hissed as soon as I reached her table. She looked up at me through hooded eyes and, as if to make a point, took her fork and stabbed a cherry tomato with it until its juices bled all over her plastic plate.
My bottom lip twitched with amusement. “Not stalking actually, just a coincidence I saw you here.”
“So staring at me earlier wasn’t enough? You have to bother me now too?”
Yikes! This girl seemed like a grade A level bitch. Usually, I would have shot her some deuces and left her alone, but for some reason I found the whole encounter humorous.
“I saw you earlier during our cypher. You looked like you smelled a skunk or something,” I commented nonchalantly.
Blood rushed up her face, causing her cheeks to turn a soft shade of pink. Something about the sight caused my dick to twitch as if it were trying to wave hello to her. God, had it really been two months since I last got laid?
The girl sighed and rolled her eyes before dropping her gaze back down at her gross looking salad. “You know what? I don’t have the time or the patience to deal with this. Not today.”
“What do you mean?” With a smirk on my lips, I sat down on the empty chair across from her. Her eyes immediately lifted, blazing furiously.
“Did I invite you to sit down?”
“We’re having a conversation. A bit rude for me to stay standing up only to talk down at you, eh?”
“You—” She shut her eyes and took a few deep breaths, rolling her neck to the side. A horrible soundingPOP soon followed, leaving me to wonder how her head was still attached to the rest of her body. After a few silent moments, which really seemed as if she were plotting my death, she spoke again. “I had a rough day. My roommate is batshit crazy and I don’t even want to go to this school to begin with. Please leave me alone so I can sulk in peace.”
I reached out and grabbed the smashed tomato from her plate, popping it into my mouth. “Funny, I don’t want to be here either. Guess we have that in common.”
“Are you always this annoying?” she snapped.
“Are you always this hospitable?” I shot back with a wink.
Placing her elbows on the table, she rested her head in her hands, rubbing at her temples. “What do you want, dude? Like I said, I’m not in the mood for this, so either speak your piece or leave. Better yet, why don’t you just leave?”
“Why did you look like you hated what you saw?”
She raised her head in surprise, taking her time to eye me from head to toe. I smirked knowingly as her eyes traveled from my biceps to my defined pecs.
She stammered. “I-I have no idea what you’re even talking about.”
Yup, she was definitely checking me out.
“When we were breaking you looked as if you were watching a live execution or something,” I clarified. “What do you have against it? Thought most women loved it when a guy could dance.”
“First of all, that is the most inappropriate metaphor I have ever heard in my life. Second, that was dancing? I thought you guys were just rolling around trying to dirty yourselves on the ground.”
This time I was the one frowning. “It is dancing and it’s a lot harder than it looks.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” she shot back with a snort.
“Oh, yeah? Do you think you can do better?”
She lifted her chin. “Try me.”
I wasn’t used to a girl busting my balls as much as this stranger did. Yet as I took in her arrogant grin and narrowed eyes, I couldn’t deny that she was beautiful and that right there gave me the extra shove to keep messing with her.
I nodded my head once and pointed to the door. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Wait, what?” Okay, that wiped that smug smile from her lips.
“You think you can break better than me? Let’s see you do it.”
Her eyes darted around the cafeteria nervously. “Right here? Are you crazy?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m talking about outside. Come on.”
Her shoulders stiffened. Ah, so this girl was all talk and no bite. I kinda figured she was.
“I’m too tired to do this now,” she admitted.
“Tired? Seriously?” I snorted in disbelief.
Looking offended, she nodded her head slowly. “Yeah, it’s move in day,” she replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Okay, so if I told you to meet me somewhere tomorrow you’d be down to battle me?”
“Battle?”
I snorted. “Yes, battle. You dance, I dance, and we see who’s better.”
She crossed her arms across her breasts, and though they were a bit smaller than what I usually found attractive, I had to admit they looked great on her. “Okay then, I’ll battle you. Just let me get some rest first. Today really isn’t a good day for me.”
I couldn’t hold back my laughter. It was going to be easy teaching her a lesson to keep her mouth shut about b-boying. “Okay, how does two p.m. at the campus gym sound? They have a yoga studio in the back that should be free by that time.”
“Deal.” She nodded her head in affirmation. Waiting a while, she arched the same eyebrow and snapped, “You can leave now.”
This girl really was a trip. Without arguing, I stood up to walk away, but thinking twice about it, I extended my hand. She looked up at me as if I was a part of some alien race that had just shoved a weird custom in her face.
“I’m Mitch,” I introduced myself.
She pursed her lips, but at least had the decency to shake my hand. “Aurora.”
I’d never heard that name before, but it certainly suited her well. Smiling in bemusement, I commented, “Nice name.”
“My mother had a Disney obsession,” she snapped defensively, as if it were something she was used to hearing.
I held up my hands. “Hey, I’m just complimenting y
ou. It really is a cool name.”
Her eyes remained narrowed for a split second before her face softened. “Oh, thank you then.”
“Okay, Aurora. Prepare to get smoked tomorrow.”
Aurora
What the hell was I doing?
Why the heck did I agree to battle Mitch?
Blame it on temporary insanity from the knowledge that Clemence had been all up in my drawers, but that still couldn’t explain why I was headed over to the yoga studio decked out in my favorite runners and Lululemons.
The blast of cool air hit my face as I entered the gym. My nostrils flared as I sniffed around, inhaling the familiar scent of rubber mats, metal bars, and Lysol. They were smells that instantly brought me back to the days I’d train at dawn. The gym wasn’t nearly as big as the one at Ohio University, but it wasn’t a dinky one, either. I basically circled the perimeter a few times before locating the lone ‘Mind, Body, Spirit’ studio in the back corner. It was so inconspicuously labeled that there was no way anybody would have noticed it unless they were specifically searching for the tiny room.
I pushed through the tinted double doors to find that Mitch was already inside waiting for me; practicing, no less. The music he chose this time around was a hip-hop anthem, and not the odd funk I heard at Club Row. It’d probably be easy to dance along with…I hoped.
I stood by the door quietly, watching him closely. It wasn’t long until his movements entranced me. I hated to admit it, but he did know how to dance pretty well—not that I’d be telling him that or anything.
Despite how quiet I tried to be, he somehow noticed me and suddenly stopped dancing. His face broke into a smile as he walked over to me. “Hey, you’re here!”
“Why wouldn’t I be? Thought I’d chicken out or something?” I snapped. He probably didn’t mean anything by it, but for some reason he had the uncanny ability to get under my skin, which was quite impressive, seeing as I’d only interacted with him a grand total of two times. Sure, he had a great body, and yeah,his exotic features were really—really—aesthetically pleasing, but he was cocky, and I hated cocky.
His thick lips curled into a smirk. “I’m going to be honest, because you know I’d never lie to you.”
I pursed my lips. “Mmhmm.”
“I thought you were all talk. Not everyone would be down to battle a b-boy, you know?”
B-boy? What the hell was a b-boy?
Not wanting to look stupid, I shrugged. “Well, not everyone is me.”
His answering smile was blinding, making it that much harder to stay annoyed with him.
“So, should I go first or…?” He motioned between us, playing dumb. We both knew he assumed I was a total airhead, so why not go along with the charade?
Playing along, I did a mock bow. “Why don’t you go first? I need to stretch. I’ll be over there watching and I’ll come in when I’m ready.”
He scratched his head and scrunched up his face. “Um, yeah. Sorry, sweetheart, it doesn’t really work that way. When you battle you’re sort of expected to jump in right after the person you’re competing against.”
I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Fine. Give me a second to warm up, though.”
“Do your thing.”
I walked toward the back of the studio and grabbed one of the mats, cringing when I noticed it was the same color as the one Clemence had used. Reminding myself that I didn’t need any distractions, I shrugged off my annoyance with her and sat down, extending my legs forward and folding my body over into a good stretch.
Mitch whistled. “Are you a cheerleader or something? You seem really flexible.”
“Why do you have to assume I’m a cheerleader?” I shot back, recalling the squad back in Ohio. For some odd reason the gymnastics team and the cheerleading squad had some unspoken animosity toward each other. Any time I thought back to the feud it left a bad taste in my mouth and to this day I still hated being compared to one of them.
“It’s a compliment, babe. Don’t get your panties in a wad.”
“Don’t call me babe.” I changed positions and stretched out my arms quicker than I usually would, ready and willing to get the whole ‘battle’ thing over with. Praying that I wouldn’t end up pulling anything, I jumped to my feet and walked toward the center of the room with raised eyebrows. “Are you ready?”
His thick lips rose on one side of his face in a smirk. “Always.”
A deep bass vibrated against the walls of the tiny room. Mitch took to the floor with a look of pure determination on his face. I admit, the quickness of his footwork was really impressive. It was graceful and rough; soft but hard.
I tried my best to keep my face expressionless, but I couldn’t help but admire his technique. It was as if he was telling a story with his body, and if I were being honest, it was a story I wanted to hear again and again. A few of his poses looked familiar too. In fact, I recognized some of them from the Ohio men’s gymnastics team’s floor routine. To my surprise, Mitch pulled those tricks off wonderfully.
Perfect ten.
At the end of Mitch’s run, he spun around in a tight circle, bringing his legs in together and crossing his arms over his chest. It was a stereotypical pose that I recognized from a few of those dance movies my friends used to be obsessed with back in high school. I had to admit, seeing it in person far exceeded the effect it had on the big screen.
Mitch nonchalantly took a few steps back, spreading his arms in the air. “Beat that, princess.”
“Okay, can you stop with these cutesy nicknames of yours? The way you say them sounds so derogatory.”
“No disrespect,” he apologized. “If anything, they’re terms of endearment.”
“Terms of endearment only work if there is any endearment there to begin with.”
Mitch’s thick mess of jet-black hair bounced back and forth as he laughed. “Okay, smart mouth—is that better?”
“Lovely,” I muttered.
Grinning, he prodded, “Are you going to battle me or what? If you’re scared, you can always just admit you were wrong.”
“Wrong for what?” I practically screeched.
“Wrong for saying all that bullshit about breaking. This stuff is hard. Don’t act like any layman—”
“Ahem.”
He rolled his eyes. “Or laywoman can do it.”
“We’ll see about that,” I growled.
At the start of the next song, I jumped into the middle of the room and listened to the beat of the music. I’d choreographed my old floor routines before and I was happy to find that this was extremely similar. Once I counted the four beat, I began to move my arms and feet in time to the music. Picturing what I’d do if I were on the floor, I quickly tumbled forward, landing on my feet and pushing off into a back tuck.
Remembering that Mitch’s moves were not all flips in the air, I bent forward, keeping my legs spread apart and kicked my left leg behind me, shooting my right leg forward. Holding my body weight up with one hand, I swung around, switching hands quickly until I did two full flares. I couldn’t see Mitch’s face, but I was sure he was in shock.
After my flares, I quickly stood up and placed my hands on the floor, pushing myself into a handstand. Recalling how one of the b-boys from Club Row bent his body to the side, which I admit was a bit sacrilegious, given I was raised on keeping my lines straight, I formed a makeshift arrow with my body and held it for a few seconds before jumping back onto my feet. I wasn’t winded at all, but was totally at a loss for what moves to do next—so, to end my routine, I placed my hands over my chest, just as I had seen Mitch do earlier, and smirked.
After a moment of silence, I raised my hands in the air. “Boo yah!”
Mitch
I was frozen.
My mouth was wide open, nearly scraping the floor.
Aurora could break!
What the fuck?
Smiling widely, she straightened herself and raised both arms in the air, arching her back slightly. I shook my head wh
en I realized I’d been hustled. I should have known—she was a gymnast! Her arms, which were thick but not unattractive, should have alerted me to the fact.
I eyed the strange girl with a newfound admiration. Dumbfounded, I didn’t know what else to do but clap my hands.
“Okay, you completely bamboozled me,” I admitted with a whistle.
She beamed. “Well, don’t call someone out without knowing about them. I could have been a psycho for all you knew.”
“You kinda are,” I replied without thinking.
She shot me a furious look.
“I mean, you were killing it on the floor. How did you know how to do all that?”
Aurora visibly relaxed and shrugged. “Been into gymnastics since I was a kid.”
“I see.” This girl was definitely something special and I was pretty sure she knew it.
“Okay, now that we’ve gotten this all straightened out, are you cool with just leaving me alone?”
“Wait, what?” I asked, totally taken off guard.
“I’m a transfer student and already had my share of weird to last me the whole semester. I just want to get this first semester over with and get on with the rest of my life.”
“And what does that have to do with me?” I blinked in alarm, causing her to look at me pointedly. “What? Are you saying I’m part of that weird you’re talking about?”
“Well, yeah. Why else would you battle me? Nobody just calls someone out into a dance battle like that. Unless you’re likeZoolanderor part ofWest Side Storyor something.”
“What if I were hitting on you?”
Her face paled, which I had to admit was a bit of a ball buster. “Were you?”
“No,” I admitted.
She sighed with relief—I repeat, she sighed with relief!
“Don’t sound so happy about it or anything,” I muttered.