"Step...step...step, step, step!"
Miss Pullen tapped her foot to the music, clapping her hands along with each barked command.
Daisy and I bent over to catch our breath as the music ended.
Daisy collapsed to the wood floor. "Forget pull ups. They should make the soldiers take dance lessons as training."
I collapsed next to her. "I now know to never get roped into dancing in Latin America."
Miss Pullen was suddenly hovering over us with a stern expression. "Up, girls! Off the floor!" She kicked my ankle when I didn't move at first. "Up, up, up! Mr. Balanchine never gave pity and neither do I!"
"I thought you said she was really nice," whispered Daisy as she shakily stood up with me.
"She gets like this on days when she's just watched Dance Moms re runs," I whispered back.
I felt a little bad that I had roped Daisy into subbing for Robbie at my dance lesson. Robbie apparently had some kind of flu, but Miss Pullen was insistent that I needed all the lessons I could get if I wanted to perfect the Mambo by the Verona Ball.
"Miss Pullen?" I prompted timidly. "Isn't this a Cuban dance?"
"Yes it is, why?" Miss Pullen responded absentmindedly.
"Well, um, Verona...it's in Italy."
"I'm perfectly aware of that," Miss Pullen replied in a brisk voice. "But one must be able to perform a wide variety of dances from all different cultures in order to fully grasp the art."
"Oh...I see," I said slowly.
"Mikhail Baryshnikov once said 'Dancing can reveal all the mystery that music conceals,'" Miss Pullen quoted. "Do you understand?"
Daisy gave me a confused look, but I just nodded. "Yes, that makes sense."
"Good."
Miss Pullen glanced at her exotic looking clock she had hanging on the wall and gasped. "Why, would you look at Tita? It's already noon!"
"Tita?" Daisy asked.
"Her clock," I murmured.
Daisy looked back and forth between me and Miss Pullen with wide eyes.
"Well, I suppose you girls need to get back to school," Miss Pullen said, picking up our coats off the floor for us. "Keep practicing!"
We took the coats and quickly said goodbye, making our way out the door.
"So," I began once we were a few feet away from the dance studio. "What did you think of your first and probably last experience with Miss Porpentina Pullen?"
Daisy's just stared at me, her eyes still wide.
"Daisy?"
She broke into a grin. "That was the best thing I've ever done!"
I laughed too and threw my arm over her shoulders as we walked back to school.
***
"For tat whish tou hasht heard--" I opened my mouth and dropped the pencil back into my hand. "I'm sorry, exactly what is the purpose of this?"
Jonathan was watching me with amusement evident in his features. "I told you. It helps with enunciation."
"No, it just makes me sound like that pirate guy from the Princess Bride," I retorted, tossing the pencil at him.
He caught it and smirked at me. "Fine, we'll move on to the next exercise. Balancing a book on your head. You have a book with you, right?"
I found myself staring incredulously back at him, unsure of if I should glare. "You're joking, right?"
"Yeah, I am," Jonathan relented in a monotone. "Okay, so we should work on some of the blocking for the scene before we go see Mr. Harrelson and Miss Tuitt tonight."
"Right," I sighed, getting up off the edge of the planter box I was sitting on out in the middle of the school courtyard. It was the middle of a class period, but Miss Robinson was letting us rehearse our scene instead of sitting in class. "Are they still okay with me coming so late? I wish I could just skip the whole ball rehearsal thing, but my parents are treating this whole thing like Queen Elizabeth's coronation or something."
"Yeah, they're good. You're basically Miss Tuitt's favorite person now."
I nodded before getting back to business. "Okay, so, I did some research and we're actually going to have access to some pretty good sets for our scenes. Like, we'll actually have some kind of balcony. So we need to get used to me looking down and you looking up while we give our lines."
Jonathan was matter of fact. "All right. Stand on the planter box then."
I glanced at the box somewhat apprehensively, recalling my lack of balance in dance lessons.
Jonathan's eyes glinted in amusement, his knowing expression making it seem like he could read my thoughts. "It's not like you have to tap dance on it. You just stand there and imagine leaning over a railing."
I gave him a pointed look as I stepped up. "Fine."
Jonathan smirked at me, and I tried to glare back. But to be honest (though I would never admit it) his trademark smirk had kind of grown on me. It was--to put it in sixteen year old girl terms--cute.
A little paranoid that he could tell what I was thinking, I made a point of taking a deep breath and launching into my first line. "Ay me!"
And so the scene transpired. We had gotten into a pretty good rhythm, I must say, and I felt like the lines rolled off my tongue without thought. I allowed my mind to wander as I worked through one of the monologues, my mouth forming the words entirely on its own. Unfortunately, my feet weren't as adept.
"Whoa, Zar--"
I let out a small shriek as I slipped off the edge of the planter box, flailing my arms in a desperate attempt to grab onto something or catch myself before I fell against on the unforgiving pavement.
Now, if this was a Nicholas Sparks movie or a Disney movie or really any movie at all, Jonathan would have jumped into action and saved me, catching me in his arms and leading to a moment of close proximity and tense staring. But instead, it was only seconds before my knees hit the ground, followed by my shins and hands as I caught myself.
I just froze there for a few seconds, wincing at shooting pain in my knee caps. After a while, I attempted to soften my scrunched up face and speak in a shaky voice. "Ow."
Jonathan was swiftly at my side, placing a hand on my shoulder. "That was the most undramatically dramatic thing I've ever seen."
My first instinct was to laugh, but it came out a groan instead.
Jonathan seemed unsure of how to handle the situation. "Uh...let's uh...get you off the ground?"
I nodded a little as he uncertainly lifted me up from the ground and placed me back on the planter box. Upon reflection, I probably could have limped over to it myself and saved us the awkwardness, but I was too caught up in my own pity party.
Jonathan sat down next to me, taking my hands in his. "Are you okay?"
My mind was temporarily distracted from the throb in my legs as I reflected on how much we must have looked like real couple in that moment, like the kind you would see in TV dramas or posed magazine photos. Then I realized I had been meeting his questioning eye contact for a little too long.
I coughed and looked away for a moment. "Um, yeah. I think so. I mean, civil war soldiers must have seen worse."
A trace of a smile crossed Jonathan's face as he observed me in my befuddlement.
My voice came out softly. "Like I don't have gangrene."
Jonathan separated his clasped hands so that he held just one of my hands in each of his. He interlaced his fingers through mine, a bit of his smirk appearing in his expression as he kept his eyes on mine all the while. "I'm glad."
...Since when had he become so confident and smooth?
"So...yep," I murmured before we lapsed into silence. I had to remember to keep my breathing regular as I met his rather intense gaze. I was focusing less and less on the pain in my knees.
And then of course the moment came to an abrupt end.
"I hate to split a potential make out scene here, but shouldn't you two be in class?"
Robbie.
I whipped my head around to face him. "Why are you everywhere?" I snapped.
Jonathan looked away, his features suddenly guarded.
Robbie had a look of satisfaction on his face, clearly proud of the effect he inflicted upon us. "I'm just saying, school rules are that you're supposed to be taking part in a class between bells."
"Our teacher is letting us rehearse our scene out here," I told him irritably, then remembered something. "Also, aren't you supposed to be sick?"
"I had my mom get me out of dance lessons," Robbie responded. "I already have all the dances down, so I'd rather not waste a free period with some crazy ballerina lady."
Robbie's eyes travelled over to Jonathan, who was still staring determinedly off to the side. Robbie's tone changed. "But it'll all pay off, I guess. I mean a whole night of eating out and dancing together...it'll be fun, won't it Zara?"
"Yeah, almost as fun as the polio epidemic," I replied with a scalding voice.
"That's no way to talk to your date," Robbie said obnoxiously, continuing to watch Jonathan for a reaction.
I glared at him for a moment to make up for the time my mind was taking to come up with a fresh history reference. I eventually gave up. "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response. Shouldn't you be in class?"
"Free period." Robbie stepped closer to the planter box, addressing Jonathan. "Hey, I know they don't have the greatest school system where you come from, but you know how to form sentences, right?"
Jonathan didn't show any form of reaction.
"Eye contact? Verbal comprehension? Communication? Any of this ring a bell?"
"Oh my gosh, shut up," I interjected. "Would you leave us alone?"
"It's called challenging my, ah...would you call him competition? Anyway, it's a common thing to do when you're winning over a girl. Watch a movie."
"Okay, that's it," I snapped. "You will never, in any case, be anything near to my...anything! You're insufferable. And obnoxious. And maddening, infuriating, repulsive, loathsome, despicable, vile, intolerable, and every other word for just an awful, spoiled boy who doesn't know when to give up. And I'm sorry you're having such a hard time accepting it, but I'm dating Jonathan. And he's a thousand times more of a good person than you are. Shock, I know, money and a lawyer dad and a ridiculous house can't get you everything, but you're just going to have to move on and accept it--that you're never going to be anything to me, ever!"
Robbie watched me with venom in his eyes as I caught my breath after my impromptu speech. Jonathan was watching me with an unreadable expression.
After a second, Robbie turned sharply on his heel and marched back to the school without another word.
Jonathan spoke once he was out of sight, something almost grave behind his dark eyes. "Doesn't he have some kind of blackmail on you?"
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
I'm honestly out of excuses to make for updating late.
But anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter! The gif at the top has young Julia Goldani Telles (Zara's actress in my mind).