Flynn - a kissing booth fan fiction

Sighs

"Alright then," Chloe grins, standing up and pushing in her chair. "Time to show me your moves, Noah Flynn."

I shake my head. "Absolutely not, no."

"What do you mean, no?"

My voice is flat as I reply. "I don't dance."

Chloe quirks an eyebrow. "You mean you don't like to dance?"

"No," I shake my head again. "I mean I don't dance."

"Like, ever?"

"Never," I confirm.

"How is that even possible?" she asks, her face the picture of confusion. "Your high school has dances, right? I'm sure Lee told me something about that."

"Yeah," I nod now.

"So you just didn't go to them?"

"No, I went. If I was made to, anyway. The football coach made the team attend certain events, because it was good for school spirit and all that crap."

Chloe still looks puzzled. "So, you went to a bunch of school dances, but you didn't dance? Then what was the point?"

A lazy smirk stretches across my face. "Well, I wasn't there for the dancing. I always found plenty of ways to entertain myself, though."

Chloe rolls her eyes, then smacks my upper arm with her clutch.

"You're disgusting."

"Not anymore," I protest.

"How on earth did Elle ever agree to date you?"

"Beats me," I shrug.

"Honestly," Chloe sighs. "Well, I'm sorry, but this just won't do. Get up," she prods me, motioning for me to stand.

"Chloe, trust me, you do not want me out there," I indicate towards the dancefloor with my head. "I can't dance. Not even a little bit."

"Noah Flynn, this is a crime against humanity. You can't go through life not knowing how to dance. I refuse to let you keep up this nonsense any longer. Now, get up."

Even I know when I'm beat. And when Chloe puts on that imperious tone of voice, it's best not to argue. It's pointless resisting.

"Fine," I sigh, pushing my chair back from the table as I stand. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

I'm terrible, of course. I knew I would be and Chloe's stifled giggles only confirm my worst fears, even though she tries valiantly to assure me that I'm not that bad. At least she isn't all stiff and wary like she was at the beginning of the night. If nothing else, my tragic lack of dancing ability is serving to take her mind off her parents and their drama. And I couldn't care less what anyone around me thinks. I don't know a soul here apart from Chloe, and they're all caught up in themselves, anyway.

Eventually though, the steps she's teaching me start to sink in, the same way a new football play would. Practice makes perfect and all that. Although, I'm still far from perfect, that much is for sure. Maybe I can thank football for at least being coordinated enough to not crush Chloe's feet every time I miss a step, too. I wouldn't say dancing's enjoyable, but it's not terrible, either.

But I'm still glad when Chloe declares that her feet are killing her and it's time to go. After brief farewells to her parents, we head out to the waiting car, settling in for the drive back to campus. We stop at Chloe's apartment first and she hugs me tightly before getting out.

"Thanks again," she smiles, leaning back into the car. "You're a real lifesaver, even if you can't dance to save yourself."

"Yeah, yeah," I chuckle. "One of your best. Get some sleep, huh?"