Rebel One (Now Published!)

Rebel One - 6

Holding me close, we spun gracefully to the beat of the music throughout the dance floor.

Whenever I was turned in the correct position, I could see Travis. He was seated against one of the far walls. I'm not going to lie and say I didn't sneak glances over at him inconspicuously – because I definitely did. He was in a pair of dark jeans and a shirt that showed off his arms.

Of course, if I was called out on any of the staring I already had it set in my head to blame it on the tattoos that covered his arms. I'd begun to realize he almost always dressed in a similar fashion, darker colors. I didn't mind though, it seemed to fit him and he pulled it off well. Maybe it was that whole 'bad boy' appeal speaking though.

His legs were drawn in close to him, bent at the knees and his arms were resting lazily in between them. If anyone were to take a quick glance at him, they would be tempted to think he was an innocent kid with the way he was seated.

Pulled away from looking at Travis once more, I let the rest of the dance studio take on a blur as it came into view. I'd seen it all before, it wasn't anything special. I was dancing with my partner of the last two years, Liam. Before any conclusions are drawn, no he's not gay. He's very much straight but thankfully to avoid any awkwardness has never tried anything on me. Besides, I see him as more of a sibling figure and I think he does as well.

I came out of his arms twirling, before grabbing his hand on the last twirl and being brought into him once more. It was a mix between ballroom dancing and ballet that we were doing, for an upcoming little show.

We were dancing to Angel by Sarah McLachlan. It reminded me a lot of my mom, which is why we ended up picking it. I didn't like to show it, especially around my dad because one of had to be strong, but I missed her.

When we spun in a circle once more, I got another glimpse of Travis who still had his gaze set intently on us. I'd been watching him throughout the entire practice that he insisted on going with me to, saying something like it's what boyfriends are supposed to do or something. Almost the whole time, he had kept his gaze on us – or well, the dancers as a whole when there were more of them. The rest had left or headed to the dressing rooms about ten minutes ago but Liam and I decided to work a bit more on our own individual dance.

Occasionally, I would catch Travis pressing some buttons on his phone; I'm assuming ignoring whoever was on the other line. But for the most part, he remained appearing like a statue during the practice. Unmoving and gaze intently set. Looking closely though, it was obvious his fingers were twitching and feet subtly tapping along to the beat of whatever song was on.

Or maybe I just noticed because I was getting used to him and knew better than thinking Travis could hold still.

Last night before I went to bed I ended up making a list of everything that he was good at and everything that well, needed some work.

Obviously the good list ended up with less on it. I put dedication on the list because while I didn't know what he normally did in his free time, he seemed to be devoting a lot of time to hanging out with me. Like now, for instance. I'm sure there were plenty of other things that he could be doing, whatever it was that seventeen year old boys did, but he insisted until I agreed that he come to watch.

He was really good at making you feel like what you had to say was really interesting. The way he'd stare with excited eyes and nod happily along with what was being said, or laugh enthusiastically afterwards. That was a good trait in a boyfriend, right? I assumed so, so that went on the list as well.

I put muscles on the list because let's face it: they were really nice to look at on his arms alone. I erased it right after I wrote it down though, too embarrassed he'd see. In dark lettering so the previous writing couldn't be seen, laughable was written, which was true. He could make me laugh until my sides hurt.