I Was Saved... by the Jerkface

Dancing is Definitely a Sport

My mom, Blake, and I rode in comfortable silence for most of the ten minute trip to my dance studio. My mom only went out of her way a couple of times to ask Blake a few things, mostly making light conversation. Either way you looked at it, I could tell she liked him, at least a little bit. If she didn't like someone, boy did everybody know it. So at least he was good in her book.

My mom pulled to the curb, ignoring the series of honks that set off from some of the impatient cars behind us - hey, this was New York City.

"I'll pick you up in an hour, Belle," my mom said as we got out of the car.

"Okay, see you."

"Your mom seems nice," Blake said to me as she pulled away and we made towards the door of the studio.

"When she wants to be," I told him, smiling.

"So what's going to happen now?" he asked, referring to the dance lesson.

"Well, I'm going to dance. You can watch, since you're already here," I said, not really knowing how to respond. I had never had anyone come and watch me dance before, so I didn't particularly know.

"You don't know how this is going to work?" he asked, confused. "Hasn't anybody come to watch you before?"

I shook my head, and at that he whistled. "Really?" I nodded, not knowing what to say.

"My parents are away a lot, so they don't have the time to come," I said, shrugging. I kind of preferred it that way, actually. No pressure. However, that meant that the pressure was overwhelming now. This was the first time anyone outside of my class saw me dance - what would he think? What if I was awful.

There it was again, that incessant babble in my head. I really needed to stop with all the worrying. He was just Blake, for Pete's sake! Why did I care what he thought?

We entered the building, and I introduced Blake to some of my friends.

"Hey guys, this is Blake," I announced to the group huddled in a corner of the large, mirrored room.

A chorus of "heys" and "hellos" echoed around the room.

"Blake, this is Haley, Lauren, Brittany, and Carter," I told him, gesturing to four of my closer friends. There were other people in the room, but they were milling around, focused on other things.

"Hey," Blake said, not at all uncomfortable, which was good. He looked completely cool and collected standing in the middle of a crowded, unfamiliar room.

"Are you going to dance with us today?" Brittany asked. She wasn't my absolute favorite person on the planet, but she was nice enough. My problem with her was that she was too pretty. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back in shiny, pretty waves. She was petite, but had long, shapely legs, and a gorgeous figure. She was wearing a short dance dress and tights, even though most of us were wearing regular workout clothes (or in my case, baggy sweatpants).

"No, I'm not," Blake answered her, laughing a little. "I'm just here to watch." He looked at me then, smiling.

"Bout time you brought someone," Carter told me, bumping my shoulder. He then proceeded to pick me up in a giant bear hug, squeezing me hard, lifting me off the ground and twirling me around. I squealed in surprise and laughed at him. He was such a dork sometimes.

Once I was firmly planted on the ground, I looked at Blake, still smiling. He raised one eyebrow, a questioning expression on his face.

"Carter's my dance partner," I told him, shrugging.