The Bad Boy's Dance (10 page)

“You guys want to walk me out? I hate having to leave you at lunch, but Coach is really focused on the game. We can’t lose against Montecello,” Caleb sighed. Leaving our backpacks behind, we followed Caleb, but not before I grabbed my lovely cupcake. I didn’t trust that it wouldn’t be snatched.

Dana tensed slightly when we passed the Plastics, but relaxed when nothing happened. We hugged Caleb at the exit, bidding him good luck.

“Bodyguard get tired of watching over you, Dana?” a sickly sweet voice intoned.

We were in the middle of the cafeteria, next to the Plastics table. “Ignore her,” I whispered urgently, tugging on Dana’s sleeve. Even in my urgency, I noticed that one important spot was empty.

“Always did have people do your dirty work for you,” Brenda jeered, coming to stand across from us. Kelsie and Hailey flanked her.

“Me? Is that what you’re telling yourself, Curtis?” Dana spat. My poor cupcake was getting squished in my hands.

“I heard Jason asked you to Homecoming,” she said, completely ignoring Dana’s comment. “Did you tell him you put out? Like Mother like daughter, after all.”

Dana whitened, and I was surprised by the rage that scorched my veins. Oh no she didn’t. She really went there. Dana’s eyes glistened with tears, and I was choking on my own anger. Nobody made my best friend cry.

Fueled by own fury, I marched to Brenda Curtis, lifted my lovely cupcake, and smeared it all over her face.

The cafeteria was quiet. For a second, everything was peaceful.

“You bitch!” Brenda screeched as frosting dripped onto the collar of her blouse.

“You should be thanking me,” I remarked, dead serious, licking the batter off my finger. “That cupcake is the best thing that’s ever happened to your face.”

The sound of laughter snapped both our heads in the direction of the cafeteria entrance.

Asher was doubled over, hands on knees, laughing so hard I worried he’d hack out a liver. If Brenda was mad before, she was positively steaming now.

The bell rang, freeing us from the battle we were engaged in. Dana grabbed my hand, yanking me away from the scene. She handed me my backpack silently while I morosely dumped my lunch tray.

My poor cupcake.

In a corner of my mind, I knew the repercussions to this were going to be serious. If Brenda took it upon herself to make my life miserable, Klein would be like a puddy-tat compared to her scaly dragon.

“Ready for Physics?” Asher’s deep voice startled me from my depressing thoughts.

              Dana scowled. What was wrong with her? I thought she was an ‘Asher is Ruler’ groupie.

              “Sure,” I told him distractedly, but I pulled Dana into a hug before I went. “Don’t let her get to you. She’s jealous, because you’re so amazing and all she’ll ever be is a hollow shell,” I whispered in her ear.

              She squeezed me tightly. “Thanks, Ives.”

              “Plus, you have access to the moon cheese.”

              She released me and gave me a look filled with exasperation, but she was smiling. Mission accomplished.

              Asher was watching us with a weird look. It must be weird for him to be this far into no-man’s land. Or, more accurately, no-Plastics land.

              “Shall we?” he asked, still thoughtful. I nodded and fell into step with him.

              I noticed stares as we made our way down the hall. “Is there something on my face?”

Asher laughed. “No.”

“Then why is everyone staring at me like I’m the even answer in their math book?”

“You say the weirdest things.”

“Or maybe you say remarkably boring things. You didn’t answer the question!”

Asher sighed, and a lock of dark hair fell across his forehead. The urge to reach out and brush it away was strong, so I wrapped my hands around the strap of my bag to resist temptation.

“There are a few reasons you’re getting stared at. One, you’re walking with me. Two, you just decorated Brenda’s face with your lunch. Three, you have a piece of frosting under your lip,” he listed with humor. Good to know my misery amused the arrogant douche.

My hand flew to my mouth, but I couldn’t find the frosting. Stopping outside the door of our classroom, Asher ran his thumb under my lip and showed me the frosting.

Then he popped it in his mouth.

It took my synapses a few seconds to start firing again after that, but I managed to make a face. “That’s hygienically unsafe, and keep your hands to yourself buddy.”

He smirked at me, unfazed by my terseness. “I touched your chin, I didn’t make out with you.”

“Still contact.”

He rolled his eyes. “How did anyone even manage to kiss you?”

Stiffening, I swallowed the lump in my throat and the sudden hollow in my chest. Asher’s smirk dropped off, replaced with concern. “Hey, I’m just joking.”

              “Whatever,” I muttered, slipping past him into the classroom. I didn’t understand why Asher’s comment was bothering me so much.

             
Because it’s true. You’re not desirable anymore. Heck, who knows if you ever were?

             
My throat constricted, and I fiddled with a loose strand of my brown hair. What I wouldn’t give to be able to return to my sophomore year and do it all over again.

              I didn’t pay any attention in Physics. Tonight’s homework was going to be a pain. The bell rang, and I headed to the locker room, changing into my tights and tank top rapidly. Another showdown with Brenda Curtis was
not
on my schedule.

              “That was fast,” Asher stated. He was sitting on the floor, back propped against the wall, and one leg bent at the knee. He was the epitome of sexy casual. 

             
Sexy casual?
The frick did that come from?

             
“Was I supposed to take longer?” I queried. He patted the spot besides him, and shrugging, I slid to the floor next to him.

              “Actually, yes. You wouldn’t be the only one,” Asher inclined his head at the room, which I noticed was empty. Even Mrs. Knut wasn’t here. Guess I was even more harried than I’d thought.

              “Are you okay?” Asher inquired, his eyes avid on my face. “You seemed distracted during Physics.”

             
He was watching me?

              “I’m fine,” I replied, meeting his sapphire gaze. “It’s Monday. Must be off my game.”

              “You have game?” he teased.

              I rolled my eyes. “More than you’ll ever have, hotshot.”

              “That’s highly unlikely,” he feigned hurt.

              “Aw, are someone’s little feelings hurt?”

              “Angel, there is nothing
little
about me.”

              The way he said it, with an arrogant quirk of his lips, made me think it had another meaning I was missing.

             
Why am I noticing his lips?

             
He grinned. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

              “Umm- of course I do! And I disagree.”

              He used the front of his hand to muffle his laugh. “You asking me to prove it to you?”

              My brows furrowed. What was I missing? “It’s not like you can yank your feelings out and show them to me.”

              “Not my feelings, no, but maybe something else.”

              Frowning, I went through our conversation again in my mind and finally made the connection. I smacked his arm. “You pervert!”

              “She finally catches on!” he exclaimed dramatically, a dimple forming in his left cheek. Oh holy extraterrestrial babies. It wasn’t enough that he had a toned body, rock-star hair, and a face that would make angels weep, he had to have
dimples?

              That is where I draw the line. “Urm…uh…” I stuttered, suddenly feeling highly uncomfortable. I certainly knew Asher wasn’t trying to be charming- if he was then he really sucked at it- but I didn’t like how easy it was to relax around him, yet how wired up I was. Those two things should be mutually exclusive.

              Somewhere in our conversation the class had filled, and Mrs. Knut clapped her hands for our attention. “Alright, everyone find your partners!” she announced.

              Asher got to his feet fluidly and held a hand for me. I stared at it for a minute. It was weird that I’d touched him several times when we were dancing, but touching his hand voluntarily felt different. He shifted on his feet, unsure with my hesitation.

              I accepted his hand and rose to my feet.

              “This is a 90’s song, and I want most of your dancing with your partner to be separate. Minimal touching, is what I mean. Try to feel the flow of your partners dancing techniques, so when you dance together you’re more in sync.” She snickered at the last two words and I didn’t understand why until the song came on.

              Psh, Mrs. Knut was cornier than me and moon cheese.

             
N’ Sync
“Bye bye bye” started as Asher and I stood in front of each other. He looked too handsome to be real, with his low-slung sweats and lickable biceps.

             
Ah, geez.

             
Pushing aside my hormones, I let myself get into the beat of the song. Asher and I circled each other, locked in the dance between predator and prey. His moves were lithe and calculated, beautifully coordinated. My moves were fluent in their sporadic rhythm. Together, we balanced the other.

              At the end of the song, we were breathing heavily, but it wasn’t too bad. The song was not very trying.

              We danced to a few more songs, and the heat between Asher and I built like a dam. I could see Mrs. Knut practically floating in seventh heaven in the background.

              By the time the bell rang, Asher and I were both on our knees, facing each other. Strands of his hair were stuck to his face from sweat, and he licked his lips.

              It was so totally hot.

              Ugh, what was
wrong
with me? “So, uh, are we going to your house for the project?”

              He nodded, and I noted that he seemed a bit disoriented, an anomaly for him. “Yeah. It’s my turn to pick a movie, remember?”

              “As long it’s PG-13,” I conditioned.

              “We’re eighteen, angel, not tweens.”

              “Why do you keep calling me angel?”

              He shrugged. “I figured it would bug you, and from that blush, I’m guessing it’s working,” Asher said gleefully.

              “I have nickname for you too,” I answered quickly.

              “Really? What? Tall, Dark, and Handsome? Mr. Mysterious? Lay it on me.”

              I scrambled for a response before I lit up. “Poopsy-bear!”

              He scrunches his nose. “What? Poopsy- bear? That’s not a nickname, that’s an insult!”

              “Not in my book,” I said triumphantly, pleased at having won for once. Someone cleared their throat, and I realized we were still on our knees on the floor, and sometime during our verbal spar we’d moved closer. It would look like something else completely to a casual observer.

              “Off you go, class is over now and I don’t want the janitor to be cleaning guts from the ground if you two murder one another,” Mrs. Knut muttered, making a shooing gesture with her hands.

              That woman was so odd.

              Scrambling to my feet, I only stopped long enough to hear Asher call out, “Meet me by my car after you’re done!”

              Why did that give me a funny feeling in my tummy?

Chapter Ten             

   Can You Dirty Dance to a Taylor Swift Song?

So many cars.

              For the life of me, I couldn’t find Asher’s car. I don’t know what I’d been expecting, maybe to see a sign that read “Asher’s Vehicle, HERE” with a downward arrow, but that wasn’t the case. And now I was wandering the parking lot like a hobo.

              A loud horn blared, making me jump to the stratosphere and back again. Asher snickered from the driver’s seat of an Aston Martin. A freaking Aston Martin! Spencer would sell his first born to have that car-then again, he’d probably be married for that to happen, and who’d marry my dear, philandering brother? Mom and Dad would be so pissed if he impregnated a girl out of wedlock-

              “Are you planning on getting in this car in the foreseeable future? I don’t have all day, you know,” Asher’s bemused voice broke me from my mental ramble.