Finding You

Chapter 3

Seven hours later, my legs are on the verge of breaking off from my body. Madame pulled me aside after class and told me her concerns about me being off my game today, so I've spent the last hour after class trying to master the contemporary dance.

The dance itself is a beautiful and intricate mellow dance. It's filled with many pirouettes, chaine turns, split leaps. I love this dance, don't get me wrong. But I just can't seem to get it right. I'm off-time, forgetting the dance moves and my moves aren't as sharp as usual.

I know why I'm off my game, though. The nightmares are progressively getting worse. They come every night without a fail, feeling more real and vivid every time. However, the one thing that stays the same is the bullet through my chest.

I walk over to the speaker on the floating shelf and restart the song for what must be the 50th time since everyone left. The air now feels different, though. It feels heavier. It feels as if someone's watching me. Like there's a presence other than myself looming in the dance studio with me. The fact that it's 10pm doesn't help my paranoia either, however I shake it off and choose to blame it on my stress levels and sleep deprivation that is making me feel anxious.

When I hear a creak from the floorboards and a shadow that isn't mine appears in my peripheral vision, my body stops and my brain immediately goes into overdrive. I jolt my head towards the door with a gasp in panic, my heart skipping a beat.

My shoulders immediately relax when I see James leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, carefully watching me.

"What is wrong with you?! I nearly had a panic attack," I gasp out, holding my hand to my heart. I walk over to the speaker to switch the music off before sitting on the bench, next to my bag.

He chuckles before walking over to me and standing in front of me, leaving a few feet away between us.

"I didn't mean to spook you, sorry," he chuckles again before continuing, "It's Sunday so I was supposed to fetch my sister from dance, but I've been standing outside for half an hour and she still hasn't come out."

"She's not here. She texted me earlier to tell me that she had to cover an extra shift at the restaurant so she couldn't make today's class," I say, taking my towel out of my bag and wipe my sweaty forehead.

"That would've been useful information to know," he rolls his eyes and looks up to the ceiling, his Adam's Apple straining against his skin.

I wait a few seconds before speaking again.
"So, stalking girls while they're dancing: is it some sort of hobby or fetish or something?" I raise my eyebrow to him while smirking.

He turns his head to me and laughs, like really laughs. A deep, bellow one escapes his full lips and it makes me smile to hear how genuine and light it sounds. Stop it, Ally.

"I've only been standing here for a few minutes so don't flatter yourself too much," he replies with a smile, before moving to the spot next to me on the bench, hunching over so that his forearms lay on his lower thigh.

"I was right, though. You are a pretty great dancer," he compliments me and I feel my cheeks already burning.

"Your sister's an amazing dancer as well," I reply, attempting to steer the attention away from myself.

"I wasn't talking about my sister though, was I?" he says with a small smile. His leg touches mine and I realize how close we are. "You need to learn how to accept compliments. You're no good at it," he says with a chuckle.