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“No,” I say, laughing lightly when he goes the wrong way with his leg again. “I’m supposed to go left.”
“Right. I know it… it’s just this one part.”
“You’re doing great.” I bring my body up close to his again and we try the move one more time.
“Was that a compliment?”
I peer up into his eyes, turn away from him but he yanks me back. I am so focused on the twinkling brown irises peering back at me that I miss his hand and collide with his chest. We both laugh nervously as I reposition myself and I ignore the tingling in my nipples from where the hard points brushed against him.
“Pay attention,” Hammond instructs, finishing his coffee in a few noisy gulps.
We separate and start again, this time he gets the direction right and I get it wrong. I trip over his leg and grab his shoulder for support. His hands go to my waist and I’m surprised to hear him laugh through his nose.
“Shut up,” I hiss playfully, my face stretched with an embarrassed smile.
“Let’s try again,” he whispers, his smile fading as his eyes hold mine.
“Music, please, teach,” I say to Hammond, unable to tear my eyes from Carter’s and I think he’s struggling to tear his from mine.
The music begins and we move, pushing and pulling, dodging and touching, breath coming out in gasps, faces focused. It’s going well. I’m getting more and more excited, so is Hammond who is on the edge of his seat watching us with an apt expression.
The door opens and slams shut and we stop mid-pose, Carter’s hands are on my hips, I’m getting ready to shove him away, but to somebody walking in this probably looks rather intimate.
“Pres,” Carter says, frowning with concern, rushing from me to his friend who has the worst shiner I have ever seen. His eye has swollen shut it’s so bad. “What the fuck?”
We all look at him, horrified.
“I think you should go to the nurse,” Hammond suggests, reaching for Presley who slaps his hand away.
“Did you get mule kicked in the face?” I ask, feeling nauseous at the sight of him. I’ve seen shiners like this before, not as bad but near enough. This was an act of anger; it was no accident. Whoever did this to him really wanted to hurt him and succeeded.
“Fuck off, gothic Elsa,” he snarls at me, no small amount of vehemence in his tone. “This is your fucking fault.”
I let out a laugh of disbelief. “How is this my fault?”
“It’s not,” Carter barks, holding his hand up so I don’t get closer. “Leave it, man. Don’t be him.” He turns them both away and I hear him whisper, “Where’s your sister?”
“School.”
“Good. Your mom okay?”
“Fuck no, she’s not.”
A sadness seeps from them both, so I leave them to it and practice my dance by myself. This isn’t for me to situate myself into.
“She’s not coming home this time.”
My heart aches for him, despite the fact we don’t like each other, I know what it’s like to lose a mother. Though mine was never a good one whereas his probably is.
“I’m sorry about your mom,” I say to him when they both take their places. I wonder how he can dance with a face so painfully swollen. It must be throbbing.
“You don’t know shit about anything,” he retorts aggressively, “I don’t want your pity.”
Normally I’d come back with something nasty or cruel. I’d use his mom against him, his sister, his dad… I’d do something to make him shake with anger. But I don’t feel like it. I don’t want to poke the bear because I’ve been where he’s at. I recognize that madness in his eyes. It’s the hidden desperation of a kid just wanting a normal, happy life.
It’s the most frustrating thing in the world, wanting something you know you can never have, watching other people have it and take it for granted.
“And I’m sorry I hit you the other day,” I add softly, keeping my voice and words kind. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
His façade falters for a second but then the angry mask slips back into place and he shakes his head.
“I’ll go get you an ice pack.”
“I can do it myself,” he grunts and Carter follows him out of the studio, looking back at me once with a sadness of his own.
“Guess it’s just you and me,” Hammond sighs, coming to stand beside me. “Let’s work on more of the routine together, we can show it to them tomorrow.”
Great.
“Why do you get all the hot guys?” Alice asks through the shower curtain as I wash myself.
“Huh?” I ask, rubbing my body with shower gel. “What hot guys?”
“Carter and Presley, mostly Carter though… no, Presley… no, Carter… fuck, they’re both so dreamy. And now Mr. Hammond is giving you private dance lessons, rubbing himself all up on your body.”
