Page 17 of The Good Girl's Guide to Being Bad

The residents took to the floor, some girl-boy pairs, others girl-girl or boy-boy. All were welcome here. The dance studio was a safe space. There were always more women than men who signed up to take class, but it didn’t really matter. Everyone just wanted to learn and have a good time.

Walter came over and said, “Cora, my love, would you care to dance?”

Her response: “Of course, you old fart. Let’s go cut a rug.”

As he helped her to her feet, Walter threw me a wink. He was actually 84, eight years younger than Cora. They’d been married over 60 years and were still the cutest thing under the sun. Old John came by to scoop Betty up; Amanda had gone off to talk to my father; and my mom was walking around giving pointers on proper technique. Looking up and down the row of chairs…yep, I was the only one without a partner.

Story of my life.

It was a good thing I loved to people watch, or I’d be feeling pretty lonely right now.

My eyes traveled back to the dance floor and stopped once again on Walter and Cora. They were slow dancing together, swaying really. Her head rested on his shoulder, their hands clasped and resting over his heart. There were at least ten other pairs out there. The couples circled the room like colorful spinning tops as they practiced.

Walter’s eyes never left his wife.

I sighed.

“So, this is what you do on Saturday? Sit alone, looking sad, watching old people dance?”

With a gasp, I turned and found Colton—Colton Bishop, of all people!—sitting next to me, arms crossed, leaning back like he owned the place. The sight was so unexpected—him, here, at Corner Street Ballroom. It took me a moment to realize he was real and not a hallucination.

Colton shook his head. “This is pathetic even for you, Sadie.”

“Where did you come from?” I asked.

“Mom found out about Kyle and the party. Of course, my brother was never a good liar. When she asked why he looked so sick this morning, he sang like a hung-over canary.” He didn’t look at me but lifted his chin at something in the crowd. “Mom thought this would be a good punishment.”

Looking out, I spotted Kyle immediately. He’d been dancing behind a pillar with Edith, who looked like she was leading and enjoying herself immensely. She was moving to a beat only she could hear, pulling him around the floor. Now that they were getting closer, I could hear her counting: “One-two-three. One-two-three. C’mon keep up!”

I smiled as Kyle caught my eye. It looked like he was mouthing the words, “Help me.”

“Dancing’s too fun to be considered a good punishment,” I said.

“Oh yeah?” Colton said. “You sure look like you’re having a good time over here by yourself.”

At that, I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. But Kyle’s the one who got drunk. Why did she make you come?”

“Simple,” Colton shrugged. “Because even if I’m not the one who’s drunk, I’m the bad influence. I’m the one who told him about the party. I was the one who let Kyle drink. Ergo, I share in the punishment.”

“Well, that’s unfair,” I frowned. “And did you just use the word ‘ergo’ in a sentence? I’m impressed.”

“Now, Sadie, try and keep your panties on.” He said all this with a straight face. “Like I said, I’m a bad influence. You wouldn’t want to encourage me.”

“But a big vocabulary is such a turn on,” I said breathily.

His head whipped to face me, and I laughed—right until I caught sight of the metal on his lip.

“New piercing?” I asked.

“Nah, I got it done a while ago,” he mumbled. “And were you serious about the vocabulary thing?”

“No,” I laughed. The way the light played off that tiny piece of silver drew my attention straight to his mouth. It was inexplicable, and I had to force my eyes away. “Though it doesn’t hurt. Hey, tell the truth. Does that metal have anything to do with why you were sent here? I’ve never seen it before.”

“Got it done last summer. My mom may have found out about it this morning and had a mini breakdown,” he said. “Your turn. Why’d you sigh a second ago?”

“Because I was overwhelmed by your magnetic presence,” I deadpanned.

“Come on, for real. What were you thinking?”

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