A Final Dance

Act IV

That same day during sixth period, I got a text from Sara. Yes, you heard me right: I got her number and she reached out to me. So yes, I'm a boss.

I still hadn't wrapped my head around the consequences of... um... you know.

What do you do after school?

I lamented about my sad and lonely existence.

Not much, why?

Where are you 7th?

118

kewl

Um...

OK, I wasn't sure exactly what that meant. Was she planning to meet me? And if so, why? Should I have made plans to skip the bus and get home by some other means? These things I didn't know but one thing was certain: Sara Temptation was asking where I would be at the end of the day, which gave me plenty of time to bite my nails over it.

It didn't mean anything, or certainly not what I would have wanted it to mean. Point blank, she liked girls, not guys. So then even if she thought I was straight, there was just no hope there. And no matter how illegally sexy she looked, that actually did make a difference. So, when she came and found me after seventh period, I wasn't so preoccupied with her exceptional body or her timeless face. At first.

"So, what's up?" I said. I didn't know how I was going to get home that evening, but surely something would have worked out. At worst, I would have to call my mom. No biggie.

"Come with me," she smiled, then turned to walk down the hall.

I followed her. Oh you know how I liked to follow her. I had to be careful, though. I liked her shoulders; she had the perfect, light, girly shoulders perfectly framed in her loose, oversized sweater that hung low enough to grace me with skin at the back of her neck and shoulders. I liked her back; I especially liked the way the bottom hem of her sweater wrapped around that cute, perky butt made all the more adorable in those snug, purple yoga pants. Mmm.

She would stop every little ways or so and turn back to make sure I didn't get lost. And trust me, I was not going to lose sight of her, no sir, I was not. Maybe get lost in her magnificence, but if she'd have made her way through Bourbon Street on Mardi Gras my eyes were securely tethered and I was going to follow her.

We passed through a herd of students heading home, and I didn't lose sight of those legs once. You know it. She brought me to the theater and led me up to the stage where, before rows of empty red seats, she explained her plot.

"I'm going to take advantage of you, exploit you, and use you for my own selfish, twisted ends."

"Uh... OK?"

"The recital. I really want to do a pas de deux. Last semester, the only guy we had was Isaiah, so she had us all audition with him. Lauren got to do it, I didn't. Now, he's better than you, so..."

"Gee, thanks."

She giggled. "I'm sorry! That didn't come out right!" She bit her fingers at the remark.

"No, I get it; he's been doing this longer than me. It's fine. But I'll catch up to him, you'll see."

"I know you will. That's because you practice hard. So anyway my point is that right now all the girls want to dance with him. So I figured, I could audition with him and possibly lose, or maybe you and I could spend this week working on something we can show to Ms. Rousseau, and then we could have our own pas de deux at the recital. What do you think?"