Page 11 of The Perfect Catch

She opened her eyes and turned to look at me, her eyes clouded over. “No, Stanley. I don’t want to go to the field today. I’ve got the mending and cooking to do.” Her eyes closed again, and I heard a soft snore.

I closed the door softly and walked over to the master bedroom where Karsten and Bree slept when my father was gone. They were already asleep, their heavy breathing echoing through the small room.

I made my way back out to the bathroom and took a shower, taking extra time to get all the grease off. It took all the energy I had left to drape a sheet over the living room couch before I collapsed on it. Seeing the package again on the floor, I turned, resting my head on my hand as I read over it again.

I should have just told her no, that going to a dance with her would be a bad idea, getting my hopes up and all that. But the other part of me said, “Why not?” It was senior year, and it was one night out.

I just had to keep telling myself that’s all it was.

Chapter 8

Kate

Saturdays were always hectic for me, but the good thing was that most of the activities for school were only during the week, meaning I could focus on the other balls I was juggling in my life. I worked at a dance studio starting at seven in the morning until noon, when I went over to volunteer at the soup kitchen or the food bank or nursing home, depending on the day of the month.

I knew it was overkill, but as my mom always said, it would look good on my transcript and college applications, which was a major factor in why I continued to do it. The other was that I didn’t want to let my mom down.

There were little decisions I made, like taking Dax to a dance, that were more spiteful than they should’ve been. But there were a lot, like what college I should go to or what to do to stand out from the other thousands of students who would apply, that I usually listened to her and did everything I could to make her happy.

Karla Adams-Shepherd deserved a little something good after all she’d been through.

I glanced at the full-length mirrors in the studio, waiting for my students to come in. Several wisps of hair floated around the sides of my head, and I worked to push them back. If Miss Michelle were to see even one hair out of place, I’d get a scolding, and that wasn’t something I wanted this early in the morning.

“Laura, are you all ready?” I asked the girl looking at me between two slits for eyes. She wasn’t a morning person at all, but by the time class was over, she was usually bouncing off the walls and chattering non-stop.

The first class I taught was a group of older girls, about eleven and twelve, who I always loved teaching. They were funny and usually talked a mile a minute before we got started. But then things got quiet when they had to concentrate on their hip-hop or salsa dancing, depending on the week. The next class made me want to just squeeze them all because at three, four, and five, they were the cutest little dancers in their ballet outfits.

I had a break after that class since one of the other girls my age taught it. Miss Michelle had run to pick up a few packages that had arrived for the studio at the post office, and the lobby was fairly quiet. I was sitting at the front desk, scrolling through my phone when I should have been figuring out my math homework.

The door opened, and I glanced up, seeing a girl about seven or eight walk in dressed in shorts and a t-shirt that looked almost too small for her. I smiled at her, ready to ask what I could help her with when a tall figure came through the door behind her.

“Dax? What are you doing here?” I still felt a little awkward after the exchange we’d had Thursday night, and I’d only seen him in the halls on Friday. I could talk to a lot of people, but I struggled talking to someone I’d asked to a dance until the night of the dance. Maybe it was so they wouldn’t think I was crazy with all the stuff I had going on. I’d always teased Penny about being busy, but hers was with softball, work, and all the studying she did. Ever since this year hit, I really had become the Phantom in my house like Zane said.

Dax raised an eyebrow, looking uncertain as he stared at me. “I, um, well, my sister wants to take a dance class. I thought we’d come see what we needed to start her in it.”

I switched my gaze from Dax to the young girl and grinned. “Awesome! We always love having new dancers here. What’s your name?”

“Bree.” Her voice was so soft that I had to wait a few seconds for my brain to process it.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bree. I’m Kate, and I teach some of the classes here. How old are you?” I walked out from behind the desk and bent over, waiting for her response.

“Eight.”

I nodded. “Sweet. Okay, we have a couple different classes we can put you in. Let me get you a calendar.” I walked over to the wall where several fliers were kept, pulling out the one on lime-green paper.

As I handed the paper to Dax, our fingers brushed for a second, and a shock caused me to jerk my hand back.

“I’m sorry,” Dax said, cringing. He held out his hands, stopping them a few inches from me, looking more worried than I would have with just a shock.

“I’m fine. Just too much static in this place, I guess.” I grinned at him, and several seconds passed before I remembered what I was supposed to be doing, my heartbeat thundering in my ears. What was my problem? I didn’t usually act this awkward around anyone, especially guys.

I turned so I was standing next to him, allowing me to see the paper at the same time. “Does she have any experience?”

Dax shook his head. “No, I don’t know much about dance, so I haven’t done much to get her started yet. She’s been begging me the last few weeks, so I thought I’d check here first.” He gave me a hesitant smile and shrugged.

“No worries. Here are a few of the classes we offer. We have some beginner ballet that would work for her, or several other options like tumbling, hip-hop, cheer, etc.”

“Cheerleading!” Bree said, bouncing on her toes.

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