DISCLAIMER: Stephenie Meyer may own them, but I can manipulate them. HA, HA, HA, HA, HA…cough. That's it for my Mandar laugh.
A/N: Sorry for the delay!
Chapter 3: Basics
"Ugh," I muttered. I dropped my hands from our embrace, my confidence fading. He drew back, returning his hands to his sides.
He chuckled, "Ah, it won't be so bad."
"No, you don't understand. Truthfully, I have danced before – badly." I shuttered as the memory flashed across my mind: ballet lessons when I was no older than nine years old.
"Sadly to say, you are the one that is mistaken," he smiled. His eyes beamed in smugness. I hated him. "You just didn't have the right teacher."
He strolled out to face the rest of the class, leaving me to ponder over his last statement. You just didn't have the right teacher. What made him so special? Yes, he was handsome, to the point of almost being unbearable. And yes, he did move gracefully. He was a very urbane guy. But he was no different from any other guy besides the fact that he was my dance instructor.
"Since it seems like we all have established a connection with our partners, we are able proceed to our next lesson: learning the basics," Edward begun. "Now, the basics of tango are much like any other style of dance. The foundation of the tango is laid with the eight-count. A tango-count can be expressed in two ways. The first is a simple slow…slow…quick, quick, slow." He snapped as he paced the class.
"While you continue to snap, the second way is characterized by walk…walk…Tan-Go, close." Soon, I found myself partaking in his infectious activity as well.
As Edward went to assist Lauren and Tyler with their bonding issues, Alice shifted toward me.
"Bella…" she hissed.
"What?" I looked into her eyes – practically bulging out of their sockets in astonishment. I understood that look: she wanted to talk to me about everything – but mainly Edward. "I'll talk to you later," I promised.
"Bella," she pleaded.
"Not now, I'll –" Just then, Edward was making his way back over to where Alice and I were standing – giggling like little school girls with a secret. He came back and stood in front of me, grinning.
"Is there something you, ladies, would like to share?"
"No, Mr. Cullen. Not at all." I responded rather curtly. He pondered that for a moment and sighed.
"Well, let's continue. Shall we?"
Alice and I walked home from our current lesson. My feet were screaming in agony. Heels were torture to my feet. As I unlocked our front door, Alice smiled to herself – blinded by infatuation. She didn't see me fuming with frustration.
I kicked off those stupid heels, stamped into my room, and slammed my door. I flopped down on my bed when I heard the door hinges squeak.
"Alice, why don't I have the same grace, the same poise as you?"
"Bella, we been through this…some are just born naturally graceful and others well, have to learn," Alice struggled. She noticed how lifeless I was and came to peer over me.
"Why am I such a jerk?" I said, more to myself.
Alice groaned in exasperation. "Are you obsessing over our teacher you got the hots for?"
I shot up and opposed, "I do not!"
"Bella, Bella, Bella, you are physically a grown woman. But, honey, sometimes I think I need to take you back to the basics…"
