"Are you excited for your dance showcase in a few weeks?" Sam asked, sinking her teeth into her mom's homemade carrot cupcake.
Sam and I sat on the rusted swings in her backyard, trying not to break the old swing-set. Christopher had just asked me out yesterday, and I was dying to tell her.
"I'm a mix of both excited and really nervous." I dipped my fingers into the cream cheese icing on my cupcake before licking it off. With all the Christopher drama, the upcoming showcase had completely slipped my mind.
"Christopher has surprisingly learned a lot, and I feel like I'm ready. But the Joffrey scout is going to be there and if I don't nail it I'm totally screwed." I needed to impress him. If I didn't I could kiss my dreams of going to the Joffrey School of Ballet goodbye.
"Well, I know you'll be amazing," Sam reassured me. I took a deep-breath, trying to keep my stress at bay. "I sure hope so."
I angled my body towards her, a smile reaching across my face. "I actually came here because I have something really exciting to tell you."
She began to bounce on her swing, the joy evident on her face. "What is it? Did you get a car? Did you win the lottery? Did you buy the whole season of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills on DVD for me?"
My brows furrowed in confusion. "No, no, and what did I tell you about watching reality TV?" She dismissively waved her hand at me.
"The news is that on our date yesterday, Christopher asked me to be his girlfriend."
Sam let out a high-pitched squeal before jumping out of her seat and wrapping me in a tight hug. "I'm so happy for you!" she cried.
"Thank you, but..." I bit on my lip nervously. "I don't know, I feel like we might be rushing things."
Her eyes grew concerned. "But I thought that you wanted him to ask you out?"
"I did!" I said quickly. "It's just that I was sitting down today and realized that we've only been on one date, and I don't really know that much about him."
Sam looked at me with confusion. "You guys have been spending so much time together that I highly doubt that you don't know him."
"Well we spend most of the time bickering," I diverted my attention to my feet before looking up at her again. "I feel like I know all of the big things about him but none of the little stuff."
She paused, lost in her thoughts, before finally replying to me. "I just think that you should be honest with him and tell him how you fell."
I let out a big huff. "That's easier said than done."
"You're telling me. I've been trying to tell my mom that her carrot cake is dry for years."
My jaw dropped. "Are you kidding me, your mom makes the best carrot cake!"
"You need to focus," she commanded. "Now text him before you chicken out."
I took in a deep breath before taking out my phone. After typing, I quickly clicked send, not wanting to second guess myself.
Come over. We need to talk. -B
I laid face down on my sofa, waiting for Christopher to get here. In the meantime, I entertained myself by reading The Hunger Games. It was my third time reading the series, and I still didn't know if I was Team Peta or Team Gale. When the doorbell finally rang it took me by surprise, snapping me out of concentration.
YOU ARE READING
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...