London calls me a stranger

Chapter 22

Sam's POV

Things have been awkward since the coffee morning. April and Ruby are no longer talking and things are awkward in English Lit class, or so I've heard from Conor. Yes, I'm going against Matt's words again and talking to Conor. Matt needs to know he doesn't own me. Conor seems to be the only escape, everywhere I look people are making accusations. "So I heard that they had sex 3 times in one night" one girl said.

"I heard that Matt hooked up with a girl back stage at a gig" another commented. I know this is not true for I've been at every gig since the night with the girls. I'm sick of people making accusations! I'm sick of people trying to figure things out! I just want to be with him. And only him.

To take my mind off things I go to practice with Jamain for the tango competition. We have 3 weeks till then, but Jamain has already worked out the choreography. I strolled into dance studio 1. It was much smaller than the hall that I did dance class in. About half the size and with a lighter wood, paneling the floor and the walls. When I arrived Jamain was setting up. He greeted me with a quick hug, engulfing me in his toned biceps and we began to warm up.

After we thought we were stretched enough, Jamain lead me to the middle of the floor, faced me forward, in parallel, whilst he stood behind me. "Follow my lead," he whispered. He started with his hand snaking around my waist, then I tipped my head to the side and a tight turn to face him. Then he did something unexpected. He ground his hips into mine. Images of Alex at the club pored back into my mind. With a gasp, I stumbled backwards. Jamain looked puzzled and confused. He came over to me, "what's the matter?" He asked. I stayed silent and he knew what meant. He huffed with annoyance and grabbed my arm, maybe a bit too tightly and forced me into the starting position. He was fierce, and cruel, not like the Jamain I knew. "I knew it!" He spat as he snaked his arm around my waist, starting the dance again. I tilted my head to the side. "You're a afraid of anything below the neck" he murmured, his tone cruel and serious, as I turned to face him in a tight turn.

"I'm not afraid!" I argued back, my face only millimetres away from him.

A moment of silence, as our eyes locked. "Then prove it." He whispered, pronouncing each word very well, making sure I heard every syllable. The anger of the words bubbled up and vigorously ground my hips into his and we continued with another tight turn out as he held his grasp on my left hand and moved into the dancing frame, slowly and precisely. After the session, Jamain sat down beside me. He dapped his sweating brow with a towel and complimented me on my work. I thanked him and then he asked me a question that I did not want to answer.

"Have you... You know with Matt?" He said awkwardly.

Why does everyone want to know about my sex life?! "No we haven't!" I said firmly.

Jamain lets out a breathy laugh, "you can tell by your dancing!" He said bitchily.

"Cheers!" I said back.

"If you did you would understand what I mean. You're just too innocent, you need a bit of fire in you."

"Oh yeah! Well what about you?! Have you?" I snapped.

"Well yeah, but it's different for me!"

"True, true."

Just then a tap on the glass in the window came. I saw Matt make a puppy dog face. His hair floppy over his forehead, as I ran to him. I bid Jamain good night as I left the room. Matt's protective arm wrapped around me as he lead me to the car, Jamain's question still ticking in my brain...