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“You want to check the sidewalk before you throw open the door, you stupid prick!” He spat before turning away again and hooking his arm around his companion.
“Twat!” I muttered as I waited for the cab to pull away so I could attempt to cross the road.
I could see Petra, Mike and Jenson seated at a table in the window of Mexicana, all smiles. As I stepped from the sidewalk, I froze. That man seemed familiar. I took a step back and turned in the direction he had headed. I craned my neck over the heads that passed me by and I spotted the top of his blonde hair heading into the entrance of the Plaza.
Quickly, I pushed passed the throng of people heading towards me. I felt like I was in a slow-motion movie, my heart began to palpitate and fear clouded over me that I would lose him. I froze in the doorway of the Plaza and watched Max Peters
laughing and joking with the beauty beside him, my heart plummeted in to my gut. “Raine,” I whispered.
I watched the back of her pull from Max’s hold and lean in to kiss his cheek, he handed her a square box and she pulled something out I couldn’t quite see. I watched him clip, what looked like a bracelet, around her wrist, then he leant in to say something in her ear. I was glued to the spot, my feet unable to move, my mouth unable to say anything. My heart hammering ten to the dozen.
Then she finally turned in my direction, she was laughing as Max tried to pull her back to him.
It wasn’t Raine.
CHAPTER EIGHT.
It was Tuesday evening and I was determined this time to turn up to my dance lesson on time, and armed with as much information my head could cram in over the last three days. Max had spent most of this weekend holed up in his study working on his latest case which had left me some freedom to get to grips with Ballroom. I was determined to prove to Max and myself that I could do this, that for once Max could be proud of me and not embarrassed when we stepped out onto that dance floor.
“Myshka?” Nikoli said, as he came through the double doors into the hallway. “You’re early.” He quickly rammed his cell phone into his sports bag, looking flustered.
I half smiled towards him and pushed away from the wall I was leant against, “You told me not to keep you waiting on Friday and to be prompt, so here I am.” I shrugged and splayed my arms out to the side, dramatically.
I felt a tightening across my chest as I watched his halfcocked smile grow wider, his wet hair hanging loosely over towards his right eye and his jaw shaded with a light coating of stubble. He’s got to be gay, surely?
“How was your weekend?” He asked, pulling out some keys and headed towards me to unlock the door to the studio.
“Yeah, good. Yours?” I automatically politely asked. I picked up my rucksack from the floor and followed him inside. I’d remembered to pack a bag of essentials this time, water, hand towel, hair tie and my meds. I’d already necked a Prozac before Nikoli had turned up so I was praying a panic attack would stay far away today.
“It was enlightening to say the least,” he replied with a snort. His response was completely lost on me, as he stood in the middle of the studio and stared my way. I could see his chest moving up and down rapidly and his jaw was sat firm. I noticed the tick in the hallow of his cheek pulse as I waited for him to say something. I felt uncomfortable, I felt like he was undressing me, and as much as I wanted to lower my gaze away from him and admire my sneakers instead, I couldn’t. My eyes stayed locked onto his face for what felt like an eternity until the noise of the other students filtering in to the room began to fill the deafening void between us.
“Raine, right?” A melodic voice asked beside me, making me pull my eyes away from Nikoli. He turned his back towards me.
I half-turned in the direction of the voice to see a woman with a beaming smile and pure white teeth, her skin was a creamy mocha color and flawless. She had enigmatic, rich brown eyes and her jet-black hair hung in tight ringlets on her shoulders. She was gorgeous and I instantly felt hidden by her shadow. “I’m Mona.” She held out a hand to me.
“Nice to meet you,” I whispered taking her hand and shaking it. “So, are you here to learn Ballroom too?” I asked, as I undid the zipper on my hoodie and removed it.
“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” she smiled as she pulled her hair away from her face and secured it, “I’m only here to ogle him.” She laughed nodding her head in Nikoli’s direction. My eyes looked over to him and caught him frowning at his cell phone again as he muttered under his breath.
“He’s gay, though isn’t he?” I asked without thinking, desperately hoping the words didn’t make it sound like I was interested in him too.
She threw her arm around my shoulder and let out a high-pitched laugh causing me to instantly freeze, “Are you for real, girl? Niki is not gay. His sister though, that’s another story.” She winked and tapped the side of her nose as she walked away.
“Right, is everyone ready?” Nikoli called. I let out a deep sigh and tied my hair up, mentally went over the hold, and the lines and where my head should be before slowly heading behind the other students.
“Now, I know most of you have already been with me for a while but can someone please explain the term Front Line, for Raine’s sake?”
Heads turned towards me and I could feel my cheeks burn under the heavy gazes of their eyes. Mona was the only one to speak up and as she began to launch into her animated explanation, I felt a hand push into my back slightly. I snapped my head around to see Jared stood right behind me and I smiled. “You made it here okay?” He whispered.
“Yes, and panic attack-free, you’ll be pleased to hear,” I whispered back, Jared sniggered. Nikoli’s eyes instantly swiveled in our direction and narrowed.
“Something funny, Jared?” He snapped. Nikoli’s eyes widened with pending indignation. “Maybe you can explain to Raine what Top Line is?”
I heard the grunt fall from Jared’s mouth behind me and then he muttered a string of obscenities and I realized he couldn’t answer Nikoli’s question. I cleared my throat and raised my head, “Top Line is created by the shoulders and arms of the couple. It means in a closed hold, the line would be even, smooth and harmonious and in an open position the line created by each partner should be a visual match or a continuation, like a mirror image,” I said with more confidence than what I actually felt.
I had hoped to have seen him smile or show some characteristic that he was pleased, but his mouth stayed pulled in to a grim line, amidst his stubble. “Midline?” He questioned.
“Midline is the bilateral symmetry of the diaphragm between the couple,” I replied instantly.
