The Other Girlfriend

Breaking Point

Liam’s POV

                “Die Another Day” by Madonna rings in my ears as I perform the choreography for our last number before our grand finale of Skyfall which we have already worked on earlier.  It’s amazing how similar how all of our songs are, but also how different they are from different decades with different styles.     

                Sarah is meeting me after practice and I’m really excited to see her tonight.  Practice is ending unusually early since Spring Break starts after classes tomorrow, so Sarah and I decided to do a date at the end of my practice.  The music cues off for the transition and the directors stop moving when the track ends.

                The directors gather to the front and the rest of us sit with our partners on the floor.  “Thank you for your hard work.  I am proud to say we have finished choreography for this song,” Cheers ring in the audience, “When we come back for break, we’re going to refresh and then combine all of our numbers into what will be the show.  I also expect for the costumes to be ready.  We will start dress rehearsals in our costumes the last week of practice.  Any questions?” No one raised their hand, “Great, have a wonderful Spring Break!”

                I stood up and helped my partner up.  We got our belongings we had brought in and we walked out of the room.  “Well, I guess I’ll see you after Spring Break,” My partner told me.

                “Yeah, see you,” I told her as we kissed cheeks.  I do this all the time with her, so it’s nothing romantic on my part.  I normally wouldn’t consider it a big deal at all, but I turn around to see Sarah and I can see she is pissed.  I am sweating profusely because I am worried of what the pissed expression is entailing.

I walked up to her as calmly as I can (since I’m scared to my knees right now) and she grabs my arm.  “So is this why my opinion didn’t matter to you?” She snarled.

                “What?”

                “Answer the question,” She rebutted quietly.  I try to get out of her grip as we walk outside, but her ferocity is too strong against my timidity.

                “Your opinion always matter to me, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I answered as honestly as I can.  Surely she can’t still be angry over my glib comment I said in frustration a couple weeks back.  I think that what she is talking about.  I can’t be positive though when it comes to girls unless they’re crystal clear.

                “Bullshit,” Sarah cussed.  She slammed the door outside with heavy anger that scared anyone near us scattering far away. “You kissed that girl, your dancer,” She started, “No wonder you talk so much about her.  You like her like you like me!”

                “No, I don’t,” I retorted immediately, “I am just friends with her.  The only person I am dating is you,”

                “Really?  I can’t tell by her pretty little face when she blushes as you kiss her,” Sarah replied sarcastically.

                “It’s just a sign of friendship, love, I am not interested in her,” I rephrase to her. “You can’t be jealous, can you?” As soon as I see her hand I regret every word of that sentence as she slaps me for that.

                “Asshole,” Sarah muttered under her breath.  We now have made it to an isolated alleyway in the school, so hopefully we won’t be disturbed because Sarah in the present state is in could probably kill someone.  “Why would I be jealous of a little twat?  Obviously, if anyone is at fault, it’s you!” She proclaimed.