When We Write the Stars

Chapter 10: Hayden

     "God no," I respond, "the more meat the better. I just thought you'd be one of those cheese-only people."

     She gasps in mock shock, "That right there, West, might be the rudest thing you've ever said to me."

     "I don't know," I reply, grabbing my phone, 'I've said some pretty rude stuff."

     "True", she replies, but with a small smile on her face as she unpauses the movie. She sets the remote down, then settles down on the couch. Right next to me.

     Before there'd been an entire seat cushion between us, but now she's directly next to me. Which makes sense, it'd be weird if after sitting right next to me to pick out the pizza she just moved all the way back, but now she's sitting mere inches away from me, and she smells really good.

     I don't think I register anything that happens in the movie for the next twenty minutes, and I don't even know why. I don't like Cassie Bennet. I don't. It's just a natural reaction to sitting this close to a girl. It has absolutely nothing to do with Cassie.

     When she gets a text that the delivery guy is out front and gets up to go get the pizza, I take that as time to talk some sense into myself. Cassie Bennet is still one of the rudest people I've ever met. How good she smells, and how pretty she is, and how sometimes she's kind of okay to be around don't change anything.

     When she gets back with the pizza, and sits down next to me again, balancing the pizza box so it's on one of her thighs and one of mine, I focus on just eating my part of the pizza and not thinking about her, I even start paying attention to the movie.

     "Can you dance like that," I ask her during one of the many dance scenes in the movie.

     "No, but I could probably dance better than you," she responds.

     See, I tell myself. Rude. She could've just said no, but she had to insinuate that she was a better dancer than me. This is how we find ourselves, six minutes later having a dance-off in her living room. She and her roommates have Just Dance, and I'm guessing she had to be as bored as I was of that movie to have paused it for this.

     "No way," she calls out after I beat her a third time, "I want a rematch you've got to be cheating."

     "I mean if you want to lose again, I guess," I respond teasingly, "You've seen how good our hockey team is, you should know I don't lose often."

     "Well you're going to lose tonight," she replies determinedly, "Seriously though how are you this good?"

     "Okay," I reply, "But you have to promise not to tell anyone. It'll completely ruin my reputation."

     "What are you like a secret ballerina or something," she asks laughing, then she looks at my face, "Holy Shit you're a secret ballerina?"

     "No not that," I respond, "It's worse? Or maybe better? Equally as bad? My grandma put me in ballroom dancing as a kid."

     She laughs, "Ballroom dancing," she asks, "so like the waltz and stuff? How old were you?"

     "Don't laugh," I respond, "I did it for a few years in middle school. She said if I wanted to play hockey, I needed to do something 'gentlemanlike' as well."

     She continues laughing, then turns serious for a second, "Prove it."

     "What," I ask.

     "Prove that you can ballroom dance. I won't believe it until I see it."

     "Well I'd need music," I stammer, not expecting this, "And a partner. You can't do a waltz alone."

     She makes a show of pulling out her phone and searching for a ballroom dancing song, then walks over to me, "You better not step on my toes, West."