AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Maybe it’s just the pessimistic bitch in me, but I doubt I would’ve had the same reception. Of course, people would think that the confident bombshell would be good at taking her clothes off on stage. I’m surprised that for all the purported body positivity of burlesque, I’m one of only two plus size women in the class.
If I keep thinking about how I don’t fit in, I’ll never convince myself to go back to class though, so I need to give that downer train of thought a rest. I’m doing this to increase my happiness, not fall into a pit of low self-esteem.
For tonight’s class, we’re supposed to bring a few act ideas and think about if there are any props we want to incorporate. So I spend my lunch break—and the rest of my workday, but don’t tell my boss—watching videos for inspiration. It doesn’t end up helping. By the time I’m heading into Ignite Fitness for class, I’m not confident that I should perform at all.
Grace is already inside the lobby, chatting with our instructor as if they’re best friends. I smile awkwardly at the other women waiting for the previous class to leave, and try to look like I know how to exist around other humans. It’s tough—I’ve forgotten how to hold my arms casually, so I alternate between wrapping them across my waist and clasping my hands together.
A tap on my shoulder startles me out of my arm anxiety. I turn around to see a petite woman with dark brown skin and severe micro bangs staring at me. I noticed her in last week’s class because her “casual” dance clothes looked like they cost more than my monthly rent. This week is no different. Up close, I can see her perfectly applied makeup with a cat eye so sharp it looks like it could cut me.
“Oh, sorry! Am I standing in your way?” I try to squeeze myself closer to the wall I’m standing next to.
The woman shakes her head. “No.” She assesses me, her eyes narrowing. “Look, these classes can be scary at first, but you should stick with it.”
I blink at her in surprise and force the confusion off of my face, smiling despite her stern expression. “Oh! What gave me away? Was it the way my eyes keep darting to the door? Or justthisin general?” I gesture down at myself with a self-deprecating laugh, wishing I’d chosen to wear something cuter than a tank top with a d20 on it.
“Neither. I know from experience, since we all start as beginners. It’ll take time to feel comfortable, but don’t doubt that you belong here.”
My cheeks warm and I want to reply with another joke at my expense, but her humorless, unrelenting gaze stops me. It feels like she’s staring into my soul. “I’ll try my best, thanks…I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”
Her dark red lips twist into a frown. “Stop apologizing. I’m Blair.”
“Sorry, shit…uh, I’m Mona. It’s nice to meet you?” It comes out more like a question than I intended, and that’s what finally elicits a hint of warmth on her countenance.
“Give me your phone,” she says in a firm tone and I obey her without processing why she wants it until she hands it back. I glance at the screen, perplexed by this entire interaction. She’s sent a text from my phone with my name to an unfamiliar number. A moment later, I get a text back.
Unknown: Don’t try your best. Do it.
Why does that feel like a threat? That woman is intense. I look up and Blair’s already gone, heading into the studio without another word. I’m one of the few stragglers still in the lobby, so I hurry after her.
* * *
Grace beamsat me as the class wraps up, her skin glowing with a dewy sheen of perspiration. A glance at my reflection in the studio’s mirrors shows that my sweat is much less flattering. Tonight’s class had us practicing transitions to the floor and back up. Who knew that took so many muscles? My thighs are going to be furious with me in the morning.
“Want to grab a drink? I’m not ready to go home yet and there’s a bar a few doors over from here,” Grace asks as we head outside.
My gut reaction is to say no. I’ve already met my socialization quota for the day. But we didn’t interact much in class and I love spending time with her. “Sure, a drink would be fun.”
She gasps in mock surprise, then does a gleeful little dance. “Mona out after 8pm on a Friday night? Let’s get this party started!”
I laugh and shake my head at her, following as she heads down the sidewalk to the bar. A subtle carved wooden sign in flowing script above the door reads “Nightlight”. As we approach, a tall guy with a rugged black beard and a wrinkled flannel shirt holds the door open for us. Well, he holds the door open for Grace. He shoots her a crooked smile, eyes sliding over her spandex-clad form in appreciation as she passes. As soon as she’s inside, he releases the door and I’m left to scramble to catch it before it hits me in the face.
Of course, Grace is oblivious to this guy’s interest in her beyond a quick “thanks”, and she doesn’t catch my invisibility to him. She’s already on her way over to the bar, so I hurry my steps to catch up to her. She orders two ciders from the bartender, who’s dressed in a white button down with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and suspenders clipped to crisp black pants. He’s embracing the old-school barman vibe, but it fits well with the glow of the Edison bulbs hanging overhead and the dark polished wood bar top. The whole place exudes an understated elegance I wasn’t expecting in a shopping plaza in Moonvale. I’m regretting coming in here in my sweat-soaked workout clothes.
“Coming from Ignite?” the handsome bartender asks, directing the question to both of us with unexpected politeness.
Grace smiles and nods, leaning forward against the bar just enough that her shirt dips low enough to flash her sports bra-aided cleavage. His eyes dart down for the briefest moment before returning to her face. “Yep! We’re taking a burlesque class,” she says in a bright voice. The eyes of the other patrons sitting at the bar turn her way.
“Nice! My ex took some classes there and loved it, so I’m sure you two will have fun,” the bartender replies, flashing us a warm smile.
“Oh, we’re having a great time! Who knew taking your clothes off could be so much fun?” Grace snort-giggles, a hint of her dorky core peeking through.
The two dudes sitting at the bar look like they’re about to say something, but stop when the bartender sends a warning glance their way. I’m starting to like this guy. Grace seems like she’s into him too, by the way she brushes her fingertips against his hand when he slides over our drinks. He chuckles, his eyes crinkling in amusement at her. “I bet! I’ll have to stop in for a class. Who should I say sent me?”
Grace’s eyelashes flutter at him, and she leans forward even more. “Grace.” Her name comes out of her lips, breathy and enticing. I grab my drink and look away, trying to give whatever’s happening between them some space.
“Perfect! Thanks, Grace. I’m Tomas, by the way. You and the silent beauty at your side are welcome here any time.”
Wait, what did he say?I turn back and he gives me a quick wink. “Does she have a name? Or should I just think of her as your mysterious raven-haired companion?” Tomas asks Grace. She giggle-snorts again and I roll my eyes.
