Dance with Me [h.s] (Completed)

Chapter 1

"Again."

"We've been at it for hours! Let's take a break," he begs.

"No, I haven't got it yet. I keep messing up that second turn."

"No, you don't. It was fine when we started and it's fine now," he says, exasperated with his hands on his knees.

"I'm not aiming for fine. I'm aiming for perfect," I say, my breath panting with exhaustion.

The door to the studio opens and in comes the dance studio owner with her evening class of adults.

"Oh, Cici. I didn't know you guys were still in here," Rosa says, checking her watch.

Zayn looks at me and sticks his tongue out, knowing we have to stop now that our time is up.

"Sorry, Rosa. We lost track of time."

I begrudgingly sit down next to my duffle bag and pull my towel out to wipe my face. I untie my heels, switching them for sneakers and then slip my hoodie on overtop of my black leggings and tank top. I pull out my hair tie and let my long dark hair cascade down.

"Tomorrow?" I ask Zayn.

"No, I have to work. Friday?"

I wince slightly, not wanting to have this conversation with him. He sees my hesitance and stops moving, looking at me with expectant eyes telling me to spill.

"I took that job."

"God damn it, CiCi!"

I look around the dance class and everyone is staring at us because of his raised voice. I smile politely before grabbing him by the sleeve of his jacket and pulling him into the hallway.

"I need the money and it's easy work."

"You're getting paid to be gawked at!"

"No, I'm getting paid to be a go-go dancer," I say, before pushing past him, not liking the tone he is taking with me.

"CiCi! Wait!"

He runs to catch up with me, tugging on my hand so I turn around. I face him with my arms crossed, waiting expectantly for an apology.

"I'm sorry. I don't like the idea of someone as talented as you dancing in a place like that."

"Zayn, it's perfectly safe. The manager seems really nice. It's going to be fine. It's going to pay for all my competition expenses."

"You know Rosa has been begging you to teach more classes here, why don't you just do that?"

"Because I hate teaching adults. You know that."

He rolls his eyes at me and hangs his shoulders in defeat. I step closer to him.

"Come on Friday. You'll see how harmless it is."

"You know that's not my scene."

"Please!" and I put my hands in front of me in a begging position and pout my lips out.

"How about I pick you up so I can make sure you get home safe? I'll come right before close?"

"It doesn't close until four," I say.

He winces at the thought of coming at that hour before saying, "I'll be there to give you a ride home."

"That would be amazing!"

Zayn and I have known each other our whole lives. We met at dance class when we were five years old. He was the only boy in the class and I knew immediately we would be best friends. When we were ten years old, Rosa, the dance studio owner, encouraged us to start taking ballroom dancing lessons as a pair. She saw how in sync we were and how much we trusted each other. Since then, we've competed in countless competitions, even taking home state champions for our age division twice. We were currently training for the biggest Latin Dance competition in the world that took place in three months. The last time we had qualified for it was five years ago, when we were only eighteen. We shocked everyone by placing second but then I suffered a hip injury the following year that kept us out. Since then, between school and work, it's been difficult to get to top form again. But after graduating last year I've been completely focused on dancing and I was determined to make it this year.