Dancing With The Player | ✓

Chapter 5

Brielle

10:32 PM

"Do it again!" I yelled, trying to be heard over the blasting music. Christopher and I had been practicing for about an hour and a half, and we had gotten absolutely nowhere. Today was supposed to be easy for him, since I was just teaching the fundamentals. However, with how much he was currently struggling, I was hopeless that he would be able to do an entire routine for the showcase in just two months.

"Honestly, how many times were you hit in the head? I've been teaching you the five basic positions for over an hour and you still don't remember them!"

Stepping away from Christopher, who was currently trying, and failing, at the ballet barre, I swigged from my water bottle. All the yelling that I was doing was breaking me into a sweat.

"I don't think that yelling at me counts as teaching," He complained back, groaning in the process. He stepped away from the barre, seemingly giving up, and sat down with his back against the mirrored wall. He ran his hands through his hair, obviously frustrated with himself.

Seeing him in this state, distraught and beaten down, couldn't help but make me smile. Just a few days earlier, he was THE Christopher Russel, untouchable and perfect in everyone's eyes. But now he sat in front of me, worn down after only an hour of dance taught by yours truly.

"Why are you smiling?" He asked, in between pants. His eyes were squinted in an attempt to keep the sweat out of them, and his face was actually contorted in pain from how bad his body already ached.

And this is our star quarterback? I'm surprised we've ever won.

"Nothing," I said, a smile on my lips. "I just think it's funny that Vista Valley's star athlete can't handle a little ballet."

He scoffed, "Oh and you think that doing football is easy?" Now laughing he continued. "I bet you five bucks that you couldn't even make a field goal if you tried twenty times."

"Oh please," I rolled my eyes. "I could do it on my first." I don't know why I lied, because I knew that I couldn't make it if I had a hundred tries, but I just wanted to wipe that smug little smirk off his face.

"Prove it." He said. "Let's go right now."

Crap.

"No, we can't because..." I scrambled for an excuse, my face now turning red. "...we have to finish practicing." I let out a deep breath, thanking god that I came up with a reason.

"If I take a break I'll be more focused." He now began to stand up, waiting for me to do the same.

"The football field is locked!"

"I have a way in."

"I don't have any gym shoes!" I said, scrambling for anything at this point.

"They're right over there..." He said, confused, pointing to my Nikes in the corner.

Traitors.

"Wait a second, you're scared that you're going to lose, aren't you? Are you afraid of a little bet?" He mocked, having too much fun at my expense.

Seeing that I had no choice at this point, I gave up trying to prevent the inevitable.

"No, I just wanted to save you the embarrassment of losing." I got up, switching out my ballet flats for my gym shoes. "Let's go."

~~~

"You know on second thought, I don't think that this was a good idea."

Christopher and I now stood in front of the field goal, which looked much bigger on the field than it did in the bleachers. It was pitch black outside, and Christopher's way of getting into the stadium was climbing over the ten-foot locked fence.