An Unexpected Roommate

Chapter 2: Ancient Music

"Jade," Miss Mindy said, pulling at my hair. "Why is there a pencil in your bun?" she asked, holding the pencil. I released the barre, one hand going to take the pencil, the other checking my hair for more pencils.

"Bad habit," I said, apologizing. My mother always laughed at me, saying I was using my hair as a giant pin cushion. My father said he might grow his hair out to a man-bun because it looked like such a convenient way to carry writing utensils. My mother had shot that one down real quick.

Miss Mindy pursed her lips, but there was amusement in her eyes. "Focus on ballet," she said, pulling the pencil back before I could take it from her hand. She used it as a baton to move in time to the music. "Quick tendus!" she said, and we all started to move our feet faster. My friend Lacey turned around to snicker at me and I smiled back.

+++

It was just getting late when I got back home, the world plunging into that blue hour before night really fell.

My mother's car wasn't in the driveway, I figured she was still at the airport with dad, wanting to wait with him until he was supposed to board his plane. But Ryder's car was in the driveway. I hadn't pegged him for a Jeep guy, but there it was, with no doors, though I assumed he would attach them soon enough when the weather started getting colder.

When I slipped into the house, I heard rummaging in the guest room upstairs. He must be getting unpacked. I pulled my headphones out of my bag, and started listening to the music for our next recital piece.

Mom had left a plate for me in the refrigerator, so I put it in the microwave and closed my eyes, listening, dancing around on my tiptoes, pretending my pointe shoes were on my feet, and moving my head in sync with my arms. It was going to be a beautiful piece, Miss Mindy had been my dance teacher for years, and her choreography was always designed to show off the lines of her dancers. I pictured lines floating out from my hands and feet, making me longer, making the audience think I continued on forever.

"Whoa there, Swan Lake," I heard through the music. I turned to find Ryder leaning back, a few inches from where my foot was just extended in the air. I pulled my food out of the microwave. "Perhaps you would be more comfortable keeping your leg below a ninety degree angle?" he asked me, raising an eyebrow.

"Perhaps you would be more comfortable with a shirt on," I said, trying to ignore the arm and chest muscles below his chin.

Ryder grinned. "Your mother said to make myself at home."

"Yes, well, this is also my home."

"Don't you want me to be comfortable?" he asked, taking a step forward. I took a step back. "Or, does this," he said, motioning down to his body, "make you uncomfortable?"

"Not in the slightest," I said, placing the music back in my ears, "I just thought you might be cold."

He was right though. It wasn't like I hadn't had male dance partners. Hadn't been around shirtless boys my age, I had. But in my home it felt different. It felt odd. And it wasn't like the way it normally was, admiring the strength that I knew was going to hold me up, help me fly. He was simply... attractive. It was obvious he was strong, obvious he had worked to get his body to the perfect condition for the camera. I walked past him and shook my head.

When I went to sit at the table though, he followed me, sat across from me.

"What are you listening to?" He asked, laying his head on the table and looking up at me.

"Beethoven," I said with a sigh. I much would have preferred to eat in peace, run through the routine I had just learned a few more times in my head. Ryder crinkled his nose.

"That's a bit... out of date," he said, giving me a look that said 'seriously?'

"Beethoven will never go out of style," I said, pointing my fork at him.

+++

Later that night, I was playing the track aloud, going through the bits of the routine that I had enough space in my room for. I had missed a class earlier in the week and needed to catch up to the other dancers.

"Hey, can you turn down the ancient music?" Ryder said, popping his head in my door frame. I never had a tendency to close my door, but it occurred to me that I should get in the habit. My room was at the end of the hall, across from the guest room. I had never really had the uncertainty of someone being able to see me. "Not that watching you dance is bad, but the music just isn't really my style." He smirked and pressed play on his phone, some horrible mix of loud singing and electric guitar and drums echoing through my room, clashing with the piano of my own music.

And I liked rock music. But this was just bad.

"I need to shower anyway, so it'll be off," I said, moving to turn off the music. "But if we both close our doors it shouldn't be too bad."

"No, I don't want to close the door," Ryder said, stepping closer to me. I took a step back and he flashed a grin at me.

"Why-"

"Goodnight, Jade," he said, though he walked back and sat on the chair in his room, a stack of papers in his hands, where he could still see me.

"Goodnight Ryder." I closed my door.