Frisbee Mine

Chapter Twenty Three- Two Left Feet

Red then announces that every one of us would perform this dance as the finale performance. They are pretty thrilled, while I on the other hand, feel utterly pressured. The rest of us didn't dilly dally and spend the rest of the day right away instructing the others the dance steps.

I guess I just have to look at the brighter side of this and drown the pressure by looking at Jake. So I take the opportunity and the pleasure to teach him the dance moves all by myself. Let's take this as I'm his personal trainer. I approach him with a cheeky grin; the words he said last night still reverberate in my mind, making me question the universe every single minute if it really did happen or was I just dreaming out loud.

I see Jake's expression turn sour when he heard the news. He's clearly not happy about doing another dance number.

"This is all your fault," he says as I approach him. I am actually debating on whether or not I would bring up and clarify what happened last night—if what I think he said is somewhere along the "I like you" or not—, but I just push back that thought because it still could be saved for next time.

He looks over at the people around us on the stage, who are busy learning the dance moves. He has his I-cannot-believe-I'm-about-to-do-this look on his face, and I can't help but smile for no reason. I clear my throat, and pretend that my chill level is not at a negative bar.

"Oh come on!" I exclaim while smiling widely at his worried expression. "I'll teach you."

"Good luck with that," he says wryly as a sweat trickles along the side of his forehead.

"Thank you for that optimistic statement," I say sarcastically but with a laugh. His expression still hasn't changed, and I almost feel bad for him. Almost.

"You know I suck at dancing right," he starts.

"Yup! My feet still have bruises—"

"Really?" he cuts me off, sounding really worried.

"I'm only kidding," I say while suppressing a smile. Chill level negative 20.

He glares at me, finally making me unable to hide my smile anymore—and also making me relax a little. Chill level -5. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" I reply with a cheeky smile. He slumps in his position and blows a mouthful of air. "Fine," he continues, "let's get this over with."

After a slight staring battle, we finally start practicing.

I teach him the basic moves: Kick here, kick there, strike a pose, smile cutely, hands on hips, bend, shake, jump here, do the hand thing, slide, then pose again. He follows me earnestly with forehead creasing and sweat trickling down his face. I realize he has his game face on, the face I always see on him whenever he plays Frisbee. And it just makes me smile a little wider every time I think about it.

"Okay, let's do it again," I say after twenty minutes of teaching him the steps. I sing slowly so he can catch up with the moves. And he really tries to move to the beat. It probably seems to him that he's already dancing, but to me, it seems like he's just wobbling around his place. I can't help but laugh at his demeanor.

"You look so awkward," I plainly say and he glares at me again.

"Thanks. I really needed that," he sarcastically says, while he wipes his sweat with a face towel.

Out of the blue, Becca Lane steps in and goes over to Jake to tell him that I am wrong and that his dancing is great—though still needs improvement.

If only Jake hasn't been dancing for the last couple of hours, hence, making him turn a shade of pink, then I would've figured out if he's blushing from her compliment. He just scratches the back of his sweaty neck, and say, "Nah, Karsen's right. I suck at this."

"No, you're not, silly!" chirps Becca which is then followed by a small fit of giggles. I almost gag. "I'll help teach you."

I do the head thing and pop my eyes over them. They didn't notice, however, because by then Becca's talking to Jake, giggling all the way.

"Yeah, no." I hear him say. "I'll figure this out by myself; I had enough of one making me feel embarrassed of my two left feet, no need to add another one." He then shrugs his shoulders at me, like, saying Oh well, and then goes away to join another group practicing the steps.

I feel my jaw drop. "What," I try to say. "Jake, wait." I glare at Becca as I rush past by her, discreetly conveying the message: this is all your fault. And for the first time in forever, she glares back at me. That takes me a little aback, but I just brush it off right away.

I see Jake at the back, and run towards him. I grab his arm and make him turn to me. "I'm sorry," I say, not sounding sincerely at all, but I really am being sincere here.

"It's okay," he says, not sounding okay at all. I have to mentally groan.

"I don't understand why you're acting like this," I say, "Yeah, you have trouble dancing, and you look awkward, but that's okay. Heck a lot of people are like that, even in the movie industry. That's why they hire trainers to help them look like they eat dancing for a living. And I am your 'trainer' okay? I'd already took that responsibility hours ago—like, even before the beginning of all this."

Oops. I have to stop abruptly and resist the automatic very expressive, shocked look on my face whenever I say something stupid. I see Jake's brows rise skeptically so I quickly continue talking in hopes that he won't mind the last part. "Anyway, I'm really sorry if I kind of hurt your ego, but that means you just have to practice dancing a little bit harder than some of us."

For a moment, I almost think that Jake's not going to talk to me anymore because he just stays quiet after my speech.

"Fine," he says finally.

"Fine what?"

"Train me." He says that while he has his arms wide open, finally giving up and opening to the suggestion. I smile cheekily as he rolls his eyes at me, but this time, with a teasing smile.

"I was also just trying to get away from Becca," he whispers as he puts his arm around my shoulder and pushes us past the others on to the open space on one side of the stage.

"Why?"

"Reasons." He teases, and then after another staring battle, I puff a breath and give up. We then start practicing again, very seriously this time.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

"Somebody's got a lot of quality time with someone special," teases April as I approach her.

I make a face to translate the butterflies I'm feeling inside my stomach. "Thank you for this play!"

I watch as everyone walks past the door, and wave a hand back to Jake as he and his friends dash off outside. I still linger for a while, though. Red and April are still doing some final discussions.

I hop off the stage and go over to my bag situated at the third row. As I near to it, I feel the butterflies in my stomach change into mice, gnawing my insides. I open it hesitantly, and I see a crumpled paper at exactly at the place where I have left it.

Earlier this afternoon, just before I went here, I passed by my locker and saw something sticking from it. A paper. I knew it was another threat. To get it over with, I grab it immediately and instead of reading something that would make my blood boil again, I read something that made me a lot curious than ever.

I pick up the paper and uncrample it in front of me. It reads:

Do you want this to stop? Then—

That's all, because the rest of the sentence has been torn away, and it's missing.

-------

I am so sorry for not keeping up with my update sched. It's been a sorta busy 2 weeks for me-- and I was reading Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children series! Done with them, AAAAH <3-- so yeah, that's also why I haven't got to writing for a while.

Anyway, hope you guys like this chapter! You know the drill. Comment down your thoughts and hit that vote button. 

Thank you! :)