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“I—”
“Just because they aren’t here doesn’t mean you’re not being trained.” He moves to the speaker on a shelf by the door and presses play, tweaking the volume so it’s not too loud. “Show me what you’ve got. Do you have anything choreographed? I mean, I loved your raw dancing but I want to see what you can do that’s practiced.”
“I have one thing, I guess,” I murmur, scuffing my sneaker on the ground. “But it requires a certain song.”
“What song?” he asks, pulling out his phone and stopping the current playlist.
“Ilomilo, Billie Eilish.”
“Don’t think I’ve heard that one,” he mutters and searches for it. “Found it I think.”
I move to the middle of the room, feeling stupid and vulnerable. I’ve never danced for anyone before like this. I mean, I did a little bit for Alice the other day but it was just simple shuffling, I was just fooling around.
I blow out a breath. “I feel stupid.”
“Don’t feel stupid, feel the music. Show me what you’ve got.”
He presses play and for the first few seconds I freeze, feeling my hands shake and my heart stutter.
“Can we dim the lights, maybe?” I look at the bright white strip lights overhead. “Is that possible?”
He stops the song and moves to the many switches on the wall, twisting them until there’s only a low glow illuminating the space. “Ready now?”
I nod and the music starts again.
Shaking my limbs and my head, I start when she starts to sing.
“I told you not to worry…”
When I first did this dance, I imagined myself to be a broken puppet without strings, one minute fluid and falling, the next being jerked around. My body reenacts the dance I know, improvising slightly here and there. I forget that I’m being watched, I forget my nerves, my body takes over.
The music plays its quirky and unique beat and my body moves and jerks to it, like I have hinges not joints, like I’m metal, not flesh, but then I’m water, slick and fast flowing, only to be contained back in a tin can again.
I keep going and going, closing my eyes and losing everything about me as I pour out my feelings into this one dance.
Then the music stops and there’s only silence.
I open my eyes, my breathing heavy but otherwise okay.
“Fucking hell,” Carter mumbles, having come in at some point during the dance. His brown eyes are on me and he looks perplexed and awestruck. It’s the first time since meeting him I’ve found him attractive. Nobody has ever looked at me this way before. Nobody my age anyway.
“Believe me now?” Hammond asks and Carter looks away. “Where’s Presley?”
“He’s not coming.”
Hammond sighs heavily and then shrugs his shoulder. “He’ll be back. Until then, both of you are going to work together.”
I look at Carter who approaches me with determination in his stride. “You better not fuck this up for me,” he says, “it’s my only chance of getting out of Louisiana.”
“Mine too,” I reply and we both look at Hammond who raises his hands.
“I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you make it big time. Okay?”
“Then suffering her will be worth it,” Carter replies and I snort.
“Shall I start baaaaing at you?” I ask sardonically. “Because you’re turning more and more into a sheep the more I get to know you.”
“Don’t push me, little psycho.”
“Then don’t form an opinion of me based on the fact your lover doesn’t like me for some stupid fucking reason.”
“I’ve formed an opinion of you based on the fact you killed your fucking cousin when you were twelve.”
Even Hammond freezes at that one.
“That’s not…” I mutter, feeling my eyes burn with anger. “How did you—” It clicks into place and I seethe, “Presley. Son of a cop. Son of a fucking bitch.”
Red mists across my vision and I storm out of the dance studio.
I know he can’t be far because they are never far from each other.
My feet are heavy on the ground as I race down the hall. I hear Hammond call my name.
I spot Presley leaning against the side of a vending machine, talking to another student likely skipping class. She’s flipping her hair over her shoulder, an obvious display of flirting.
His eyes widen when he sees me and he doesn’t have time to react, I bring my fist up and throw it forward. I feel it connect with his jaw and he staggers to the left.
The girl gasps and steps away, hands raised as she backs up, no longer in a flirtatious mood.
“What the fuck?” Presley grits, rubbing his red jaw as I shake out my hand.
“You’re telling people I killed my cousin?”
He spits blood on the ground by my feet. “They deserve to know the monster they go to school with.”
I guffaw, ready to hit him again but I stop myself and bare my teeth.
