Football practice was supposed to be out twenty minutes ago, and I had been waiting outside the boy's locker room for them to come in from the football field. My eyes glanced to my watch as my foot began to tap, growing impatient with the team's tardiness.
Now I know how instructor Riley feels.
My ears perked up in attention, hearing the familiar sound of laughing and stomping associated with a football team. Trying to catch Christopher's attention in the crowd, I began waving at him.
"Christopher!" I yelled, before finally making eye contact with him. His eyes grew wide as he looked side to side at his teammates, then began to run towards me.
"Christopher, I need to talk to you about the balle- "
Before I could finish, he cut me off by placing his hand over my mouth. My eyes grew wide as I let out muffled protests into his hand. The hallway got quieter as the football players stared at us, confused at what was happening.
"Why would you talk about ballet in front of my team," he harshly whispered. My protests grew louder as I began to make a scene. "For the love of God Brielle, be quiet!"
"No!" I tried to get out against his hand. "Let me go!"
Panic showed in his eyes as the hallway grew dead silent, all eyes on us. What he did next, I would have never imagined in a million years.
He kissed me.
Before I could even react, he dragged me into the nearby janitor's closet, his mouth still on mine. The sound of claps and wolf whistles could be heard from in the closet as the players returned to their conversations.
He took his lips off mine, running his hands through his hair. "Brielle- "
Before he could even finish his statement, I lifted my hand and slapped him across the face. Hard.
"Ow, geez what the heck Brielle!" he clutched his cheek, a red hand still imprinted on his skin.
"I think I should be asking you, jerk. Why the hell would you kiss me!"
"Oh relax, it's just a kiss." He shifted his weight onto the door, suddenly becoming bored with his conversation.
"Yeah, to you," I whispered under my breath, tucking a loose piece of hair behind my ear.
"What does that mean?" he asked, apparently hearing me, as his brows knitted in confusion. His eyes locked to mine. "Wait, was that your first kiss?"
I looked down, breaking eye contact as my face grew hot. Apparently, that was all the answer he needed.
"Well then your welcome," he said. "Few people are able to have such a skilled kisser as their first time."
I gasped, this guy really thought that highly of himself? His ego might as well have been a balloon with how inflated it was.
"But seriously, you're sixteen and have never been kissed? What are you a nun?"
"I don't want to talk about it!" I shouted, becoming defensive. I tried to regain myself before continuing, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of getting to me. "I'm here to talk about the showcase."
"And you're wasting your time," he responded, turning around to open the door.
"Wait!" I couldn't let him leave. "If you don't do the showcase then you can't play football!"
He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Says who?"
"Says the handbook. If you don't have all the necessary credits from each year, then you can't participate in sports. So, if you don't do the duet with me you'll fail your dance class, and won't be able to play." I crossed my arms, finally feeling in charge.
"I'd rather not play then run around with a tutu onstage." He responded, getting ready to leave. "But if you ever need someone to help you stretch out, feel free to call me." He winked at me, only setting me over the edge.
"Have fun warming the bench you jerk!" I spat out. "I wonder how many girls would want to be the water boy?"
He took an audible deep breath in, before spinning towards me one last time, frustration evident on his face.
"If I do it, I have three rules." He continued.
"Anything." I responded, desperation evident on my face.
"One, I'm not wearing a tutu."
"Guys don't even wear those!" I exclaimed. "And if they did, you not wearing one would only be doing my eyes a favor."
"Don't lie to yourself darling," he said, his eyes locked on me. "I look good in anything."
"Just continue," I groaned, tired of dealing with his arrogance.
"Two, no one can know about this until the showcase."
I nodded my head in agreement. I was willing to do anything to make this work.
"And three," A smirk formed on his lips. "I know that this will be hard for you, but try not to get feelings for me. That always makes things awkward."
"Oh, trust me, that won't be a problem." I said, not surprised at how full of himself he was.
"We'll see about that."
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Dancing With The Player | ✓Teen Fiction
When Brielle's dance instructor gets mad at her for missing yet another rehearsal, she gives Brielle an ultimatum: lose her solo that she needs to get into Julliard, or teach Christopher Russel, the school's quarterback, ballet in two months. With...