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15: Out

15: Out

Connor Rogers

“I smell love in the air,” Max sang, trotting up to my side. I gave a light chuckle and pushed him away.

“Shut up.”

“So? How was the date?” He pressed, nudging my shoulder.

“We got together, kind of,” I stated, my heart swelling with pride.

Eleanor and I never really got the chance to talk after that, but I was fine with it. At school, we’d catch each other’s eyes in class and exchange winks, keeping the secrets between ourselves.

“Really?” Max whistled, “they say love helps beautify a person. Guess that’s right.” He pointed at someone to our left, and I followed his finger.

It was Eleanor, and she looked as pretty as ever, talking to her friends. She looked over and our eyes met for a brief moment, before we both looked away, a smile on our faces.

Our little secret.

“Con – I mean Cole!” I saw Leila trying to squeeze through the crowd, “here, Eleanor told me to give it to you.”

“Eleanor did?” I took the letter from her, before looking over at the brunette. She watched me for a few seconds before walking off.

I opened the envelop, curious. Inside was a purple letter with neat cursive that belonged to none other than Eleanor herself.

Dear Cole,

That little secret between the both us that day – I can never get rid of it. And I hope you won’t too.

I’m sorry this has to come so secretively. Erik is being slightly suspicious of my behavior lately, so I can’t text you for three weeks or so. I’m sorry.

You may know this already, but there’s an upcoming contemporary dance competition, and I need a male dancer. I was wondering if you’re interested

You can text me your answer. I’ll read it, but I can't respond to it. Please say yes, because I wish I can dance with you again.

Let’s hope that miracle happens again. –wink–

Eleanor <3

“Miracle?” Leila voiced.

“Secret?” Max added.

“What have you been not telling us?” They directed the question to me simultaneously, causing me to take a step back. I sighed in defeat.

“We kissed.”

I won’t even bother to tell you the amount of hollering that came along my confession.

I said yes of course. There was no reason for me to deny that I also wanted to dance with her.

So there I was in the dance studio on Friday right after school, changed into loose track trousers and a black tank top. I smirked as Eleanor ogled at me, but she didn’t look half bad in a black dance skirt and a pink tank top.

“So, what’re we dancing to?” I asked, hands on my hips. Eleanor grinned, before playing – what I had grown to know – one of her favourite songs – Unconditionally by Katy Perry.

I started warming up by doing some freestyling, but it was hard, because I had never even tried doing contemporary before. I hadn’t done anything other than hip-hop and break.