Miss Davis || m.m. au

2

Scurrying down the hallway, I hurried to keep up with Maks' long strides. We bounded to the door, trying to make ourselves as unnoticed as possible. Our teacher, Mister Bryce, seemed absorbed in his paperwork, so we took the open opportunity to sneak into the only two unoccupied seats, enduring the shameless staring from our classmates.

I deeply inhaled, about to breathe out a sigh of relief, but before I could exhale, the words I so desperately wished not to hear rang out through the room: "Meryl and Maks, you can see me after class." After the wave of students flooded through the exit, I made my way to his desk, Maks following me out of the seat behind mine. "Detention after school," was all he said. Maks nodded in acceptance, and left the room. Of all the days for me to get my first detention, fate chose today.

"After school as in today? I have a prior engagement," I stated. His head rose from the stack of papers he'd been grading, cocking a curious eyebrow in disbelief. "Please! I would love to know what would be keeping you. Tell me," he coughed a hoarse laugh.

The unspoken challenge shined bright in his eyes, but it was not one I wanted to accept; Nevertheless, I told him, "I have my first ballroom class today."

Pushing his glasses further up on his crooked nose, in condescendence, he fired back at me, "Ah, but how important could this little dance class have possibly been if you were willing to jeopardize it by being late to my class? I will see you at 4:30 on the nose, Miss Davis." Clenching my fists, I walked to my next class, refraining from marching right back into that classroom to tell him exactly just how important I thought his class was.

Despite my wishful thinking of how the end of the school day would never come, the hands on the clock moved with speed, my date with detention fast-approaching. The bell rang signifying the end of the last class. The short walk to his classroom filled me with dread and anxiety. Sitting down at a random desk, Bryce left me a few minutes to wonder about Maks' and my punishment, as we waited for Maks to show. It was as bad as I'd imagined. He strolled through the door, taking a seat on top of the desk, instead of in its chair. Once Maks had taken his seat, Bryce jumped out of his, declaring, "There's many things I could have you two do as discipline, but I'll settle with wiping down the chalkboard and white board, patting the chalk out of the erasers, and scraping the gum out from under the desks. You'll have your fellow classmates to thank for that last one," he said, not even bothering to hide the look of satisfaction on his face.

"That's not discipline, it's slave labor," Maks muttered to me. I acknowledged his statement with a nod of agreement, souring our teacher's expression.

"If you cannot handle my discipline, then do not be late for my class," he snipped. "You have an hour until I'm back, then I will dismiss you." Hanging his satchel over his shoulder, he left the room.

"That's a nice purse he's got," Maks said, at which I laughed. I rid the erasers of chalk while Maks cleaned the chalkboard at an arm's reach away, glancing at me every now and then when he thought I wasn't looking. "You okay?" He asked me.

"Yeah I'm fine," I assured him. Looking over at him, I could see he didn't believe me.

"You know, you're a terrible liar."

"No, really, I'm good. It's just that I find the situation a bit ironic. I'm in detention for being late because I was convincing you not to be late so you wouldn't get a detention. Now both of us are stuck in here." I did not mention I would be missing my very first dance class because of my very first detention. Holding back coughs from the powdery chalk, I couldn't help but think maybe I should have just ignored the fight, and gotten myself to class.

"Why did you stop me, by the way?" he asked, setting his spray bottle down on the nearest desk.

"I don't know, I guess I didn't want you to do something you'd really regret later," I said. I'd gone to school with Maks for years, and everyone knew he was a hothead. Though I didn't know him well, I could tell he was a good guy and I didn't want to watch him get himself into trouble again. "If you don't mind my asking, what happened in the hallway, anyways?" I investigated. Suddenly, he visibly tensed, picking up his bottle and continuing to work.

"Actually, I do mind," he grumbled. We went back to working in silence. I watched the minutes roll by, my dance class rolling out of my reach with the time. What prayer could I chant to get me out of this mess? "Is there somewhere you need to be?" Maks repeated himself. I was so mentally occupied with myself I didn't even hear him the first time he spoke.

"My first ballroom class starts in fifteen minutes. I'm about to miss it," I sighed.

"You should go. I love to dance, so I know how I would feel if I was missing my class. I'll make an excuse for Bryce when he gets back," he reasoned, beaming as I eagerly gathered my belongings. "See you later, Meryl," he laughed, though I was already out the door.

Finally, I found a parking spot among the abundance of cars, and rushed to my room, hoping I wasn't too late. Slowly entering the area, the overwhelming smell of the freshly polished oak floors instantly hit my nose. Everybody in the room seemed to already have somebody to talk to, so I set my bag down by the door, and sat down next to it, totally unseen.

"Hello, class!" The teacher burst through the doors, her golden hair bouncing behind her. The class was quiet, almost no energy in the room at all. "We have a new student today!" She scanned the room for my face, "Ah, Meryl! Come up, come up!" she chirped. I made my way to the front of the classroom. "You can call me Erin, you can call me Misses Andrews, whatever works for you. We just started our partnering project yesterday, and your partner will be Max. I have no idea where he could be, though. He's usually on time."

"I'm here Erin," a man said, ambling into the room. Scanning the room to search for the mystery guy, my jaw almost dropped, when I turned and saw Maks Chmerkovskiy smirking back at me. Then I realized my mistake, she had said Maks, not Max. Everyone separated into their partnerships, Maks walking us to a corner of the vast room. "Ow!" He playfully winced, rubbing his arm, after I punched him in the shoulder. "What was that for?"

"You took the fall for me skipping out on detention, when you had somewhere to be too? The exact place? I didn't even know you danced," I whispered harshly.

"You never asked if I danced. I wasn't keeping anything from you. Besides, I don't even have to come. I'm an alumni of the studio, and I dance for the national ballroom team." he took a second to let it sink in. "but since we aren't in season right now I swing by to help out with all the youngins, like you," he explained. He was apart of USA's national ballroom team, and I was supposed to dance with him on my very first day of ballroom classes. No pressure.

"Tell me about this project, and keep in mind I have no dance experience whatsoever," I changed the subject.

He smiled at my humility, "We all have three weeks to get acquainted and put together a hot salsa. But it's a competition, and I love to win," he grinned. He quickly shot down my idea to practice, saying, "No! We have to get acquainted first." Erin dismissed us from class. Maks walked me to my car, putting his contact in my phone. He explained where we would go tomorrow evening to get to know more about each other.

"It's a date," I concluded.

"It most certainly is. Have a nice evening, Miss Davis," he shot me a wink, before getting into his own car, and disappearing down the road, leaving me anxious, but strangely excited for tomorrow to come.