Dancing with Danger

Chp. 2 How to Get a Dancing Scholarship

The two men that came in with Clapton were policemen. Their names were James and Randy. Why they were here? I hadn't the slightest. Soon enough we sat around our dining room table digging into mashed potatoes, string beans, and steak. We never have steak! What the hell is happening?! Is this some kind of bribery!?

"So, Hillary, your father tells us you got into Berkeley?" James asked me. He was older of the two with graying hair and sagging cheeks and a rather large belly. I nodded.

"I just got the letter today," I said. Clapton was staring at me with shock all over his face.

"Congrats, Hillary," he said with a small smirk before he began playing with his potatoes again.

"Thanks," I muttered. My mom cleared her throat.

"Why don't you all move to the living room?" She said with a small smile. "Anna and I will clean up here." I started cleaning too, but my mom snatched the plates from me.

"Mom, what are you doing?" I asked.

"Go, Hilly," she said, shooing me into the living room. Everyone looked at me as I stepped inside. James and Randy were sitting on the recliners, my dad was perched on the loveseat, but in a way that there was no room. I gritted my teeth and sat next to Clapton on the couch. Without his usual leather jacket on, I saw he was slenderly muscular, like a dancer.

"What is this about, daddy?" I asked my dad.

"Your mother and I found a way for you to get a scholarship to Berkeley," my dad said. Why was my stomach upset? This was a good thing!

"How's that?" I asked glancing at all three men. They exchanged looks.

"You'll be teaching Clapton to dance," Randy said. I shot to my feet.

"What?!" Clapton and I both said at once.

"James, I already know how to dance!" Clapton argued.

"Grinding isn't dancing!" I snapped at him. His eyebrows arched upwards.

"Well," James said slowly, "It's not really teaching. More like you'll be choreographing a couple of dances together and entering in a competition with them."

"Still, I don't want to be her ticket into a free ride through college!" Clapton said standing up, he was easily a foot taller then me with heels on.

"That's the thing," my dad said. "My wife called Berkeley after she called James. They agreed that if you both succeed with at least third place in each dance then you too will have a full scholarship there."

"What if I don't want to dance?" Clapton asked slowly. Randy and James both sighed heavily, as if on cue.

"It's that or prison," James said bluntly. I noticed that Randy didn't do a lot of talking. Clapton fell back into the sofa and ran his hands over his face. I took a shaky breath.

"I'll do it," I said. My dad looked at me surprised, then nodded.

"Seriously?" Clapton said looking up at me. "This has got to be some kind of joke!"

"Believe it or not, I'd like to leave college without student loans," I snapped at him. We glared at each other for a minute.

"Fine," he mumbled.

"Great!" James said getting up. "I'll get your bags! Come along Randy!"

"Bags?" Clapton and I said together. I shot him a glare.

"Yes, Clapton, or have you forgotten that your father kicked you out when you stole his car?" James asked. Clapton's face went from confusion to realization in a matter of seconds.