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13: The Dance Club

13: The Dance Club

Connor Rogers

I didn’t get to talk to Eleanor at school; it seemed that Erik was becoming more demanding and possessive lately, and Eleanor was forced to stay at his side at all times. She did sneak in some time to slip my jacket into my locker though.

It was a cool November Tuesday, and I was just cruising around the school hallways with Max and Leila during one of our mutual free periods.

“Hey, look!” Leila hurried away from our sides and went over to the activity boards, “there’s a new club!”

“You actually notice these things?” Max sniggered.

“Yes, ‘cause unlike you, I actually pay attention to different things,” the girl stuck out her tongue, before looking back at the purple sheet of paper.

Eleanor’s favourite colour.

I groaned; this was another symptom of mine since I’d started crushing on her – I’d relate everything to her. It actually kind of frustrating.

“Look, Eleanor created this club,” Leila started reading off the paper, and I looked curiously over her shoulder. Eleanor never told me such a thing.

“The new Dance Club, organized by Eleanor Kings, freshman,” she read, “for anyone and everyone that enjoys to move their hips to music. Hip-hop, contemporary, ballet, modern, any form of dance is welcome. Feel free to lose yourself to the music!”

“Connor, you have to join,” Max was quick to say, “she so made this ‘cause you danced with her last time! I doubt she would’ve done so otherwise.”

“I don’t know,” I said slowly, “I mean, I don’t want to appear creepy, you know?”

“You’re not going to be creepy!” Leila shot back, “you know there’s this rumour spreading among the girls? That Eleanor is seeing another guy other than Erik. That’s got to be you!”

I grimaced; there was no denying it – it had to be me. We had been texting each other almost twenty-four hours straight lately.

“So you reckon I should join?”

“Definitely,” the two of them said simultaneously.

I sighed; they could be so persistent sometimes, “Okay, fine.”

They say FIU was over flooded with different forms of talent, and I guess that was true.

When I arrived at the dance studio on the next day, it was literally crammed with people that wanted to audition.

Eleanor was more than excited to see me when she caught sight of me.

“Cole! So glad you came,” she all but flung herself on me, hugging all the air out of my lungs.

“Hey, tiger,” I hugged her back, my ears a little hot, “nice to see you too.”

“Okay guys! Can I have all the ballet out first?” She called, and a group of ballerinas emerged from the crowd and started dancing to the music.

My category of dance – break dance – was quite far down the list, since Eleanor had put a descending order as to the popularity of a category, and I was the only one doing break dance.

I was called out as the five to last; there were still an Indian dance, an Irish dance, a tap, a waltz and a German dance. Most of the girls started squealing when I went to the centre of the room, partially because I was shirtless right now. I kept my eyes on Eleanor only though, and noticed her face was blood red. She looked away and I laughed quietly.