Thirty Reasons Not to Date a Player

08. He Think's He's Prince Charming (2)

The only time I've ever danced in public was during my fifth grade graduation ceremony, and let me tell you, it was mortifying. We did this high school musical routine, which made no sense, considering that we weren't even in middle school yet. April and I were designated to do cartwheels across the stage at the end of the show. Long story short: my shirt flew up, exposing my polka-dotted trainer bra.

My mom promised me that everyone would forget about it over the summer, but when school reopened in the fall, a group of obnoxious boys nicknamed me 'trainer-bra' for almost the entire first month of school. April and I almost got suspended for stealing one of their homework assignments and flushing it down the toilet. When that didn't work, April stole a whole deck of Yu-Gi-Oh cards from Tommy Jenkins, the ringleader, while everyone was out for recess. She never admitted to taking them, but that got the boys to leave me alone.

Thank god there's no acrobatics involved in ballroom dancing.

"Dancing is an art," the instructor, Miss Aviva, informs us, after making us stand around her in a circle. I stay near to Rachel; she's the closest thing I have to a friend right now. "Can I have a male volunteer?"

The guys form a cluster on the opposite side of the room, most of them looking pretty awkward. There's about ten of them, enough for each of the girls to have a partner, I guess. That probably leaves me to be paired off with Ryder, since I kind of am his plus one. Ag.

"You," Miss Aviva says, pointing toward a boy with a grey sweater and glasses. "What's your name?"

"Uh, Jack," the boy replies. There are clearly no willing volunteers, so I guess that makes him the victim. Our instructor can't be any older than thirty, but there's something about her penciled-in eyebrows and five inch heels that make her a little intimidating.

"So you're Crystalina's brother?" Miss Aviva asks, as she takes the nervous looking boy by the hand. He nods ever so slightly. From the fifteen minutes that I've been here, I've gathered that Crystalina is the birthday girl. She's standing off to the corner with two other sophomores. They haven't stopped chattering back and fourth since the start of the lesson.

"Now ladies," Miss Aviva says, getting our attention, "to get into dancing position, place your right hand on your partner's shoulder, and your left hand should make a ninety degree angle with theirs." She demonstrates on Jack, who seems rather uncomfortable with the prospect.

"And for the gentlemen," she begins, "place your left hand on your partner's back, like so." She moves Jacks hand to the spot right behind her armpit. "I don't want to see any of your hands going lower than this, understand?" A few of the younger boys snicker at this remark.

"Your free hand should join your partner's in the air."

I glance around the room, and many of the girls look nervous and jittery. Crystalina probably made a point of pairing her closest girl friends off with their crushes.

"Who are you paired off with?" I ask Rachel, when we make eye contact.

"A family friend," she tells me, "he doesn't go to South River."

"Is he cute at least?" I ask, mostly for conversation purposes. Everyone else seems to be talking and I don't like being the odd one out.

"He's okay," she shrugs. "We used to like each other back in middle school, but he has a girlfriend now so that's that."

Sounds like a recipe for disaster. "Did you invite him?"

"Nah," Rachel crinkles her noise, "it was my cousin's idea. She's a hopeless romantic."

I laugh a little, muttering a sarcastic 'wow', before Miss Aviva tells us to find our partners and an empty spot on the dance floor. Rachel walks off to find the guy we were just talking about, and I grudgingly scan the room for Ryder. It should be relatively easy to find him, considering he's one of the oldest and tallest boys there. But he's no where in sight.