Page 22 of Unbidden

“As well as to be expected when moving in with a bunch of strangers.” I shrug.

“Well, we may be strangers now, but we won't be for long. No matter what, you’ll always have us.”

“Thanks. It’s just weird going from no family to having more than I ever have before.”

“That would be quite the transition,” he tells me thoughtfully. “Anyways, welcome home. I can’t wait to hear all about what you and Victoria get into.” He rounds the counter to rinse out his coffee cup. “Oh, and fair warning: watch out for Victoria and Alice. They aren't used to hearing the word no, and I have a feeling you’ll be giving them a run for their money.” He winks over his shoulder while leaving the kitchen.

“Have a good day!” I holler after him.

One thing is for sure, this is a much different life from the one I'm used to.

∞∞∞

“Welcome to today’s class. Today we will be learning how to interact while in a social engagement, specifically dancing. This will prepare you for the ball at the end of the year, which will also be your final exam.”

Groans come from around the room. Mrs. Bonavich doesn’t even bat an eye.

“Now, for this exercise, I want the women to sit at various desks around the room. The men will approach and use proper technique on how to ask a woman to dance. I will demonstrate once. Then the woman will accept or decline properly. If the dance is accepted, you dance on the makeshift floor here and continue to interact until the end of the song. Does everyone understand the assignment?”

Internally, I roll my eyes. This finishing class has been as ridiculous as I thought it was going to be. So far it’s been all about how to interact with the rich and famous of the world. We had a whole class on which silverware to use at dinner. I now know you move from the outside in, but why I needed to know that, I haven’t a clue. I don’t understand why rich people make things like having a simple conversation so complicated.

I blink to find I missed the teacher’s demonstration. The men all stand up, gathering at the front of the room. The women, me included, stay in our seats. I sit up straight, knowing if I slouch the teacher will zero in on me. That’s one thing I learned from this class: from the moment you walk through her door, Mrs. Bonavich expects you to treat the entire class as if it’s the most important dinner, event, or meeting of your life. She tends to make an example of me since I’m of “such low blood.”

I don’t bother looking around, just focus on the music that fills the air and zone out. It isn’t like any of these guys will actually ask me to dance. While things have settled, I’m still a pariah. Tinsley makes a point to talk to me when she sees me in the halls or at lunch, but Reed often interrupts and pulls her away. It’s obvious he doesn’t want me anywhere near his sister. Keaton, on the other hand, has encouraged my friendship with Tinsley. He also always smiles when he sees me. I don’t know if he’s sincere or not, but I try not to dwell on it. He won’t matter in eight months. Hell, this whole place won’t matter.

“May I have this dance?”

I gasp as I come out of my thoughts.

The brown-haired boy isn’t one I’ve noticed before. He’s an inch or two shorter than my own five foot seven, but he has a friendly smile. He bows, holding out his hand. I smile and take it, getting up from my seat and allowing him to lead me to the dance floor. Mrs. Bonavich gives me an approving smile, and while I dislike this class, that sliver of approval means something to me.

I was so distracted by that and the fact that he asked me to dance, I didn’t stop to think about what I was expected to do next.

Shit.

Seeing the look on my face, the brown-haired boy speaks lowly. “Put your left arm on my shoulder and clasp your right hand in mine.”

I do as he says as his own hands find their place within mine and on my hip. He takes a deep breath before he starts speaking again.

“Back, over, up, over.” He repeats this while also applying pressure to my body, leading me in the direction he wants me to move.

After a couple of close calls for his feet, I finally find the rhythm. Once he’s comfortable with my dancing, he stops repeating himself.

“I’m Jared, by the way.” He smiles.

I smile back at him. “Sage. Thank you for asking me to dance, although you probably regret it after having to coach me through most of it.”

He gives me a half shrug. “Thank you for accepting. I don’t mind helping. You looked lonely, and the teacher did kind of require me to ask someone.” As if realizing what he said, he rushes to explain. “I don’t mean I wouldn’t have danced with you otherwise. You’re beautiful. Gorgeous, honestly. I just wouldn’t have normally had the gumption to ask you. I mean… look at you.”

I laugh lightly and squeeze his hand. “I know what you meant. Thank you for the compliment. I’m happy you asked me to dance with you. You shouldn’t be shy though. Any girl would be lucky to be your dance partner.”

The beam on his face tells me I did the right thing. And I meant what I said. He’s cute and seems to be a good guy. I can tell that by the way his hands don’t roam, unlike some of the other guys in the class, and the fact that he whispered steps to me through most of the dance so I wouldn’t look like a fool.

Jared goes to speak again but freezes as the song comes to an end. I almost ask him for another dance when someone taps me lightly on the shoulder. I gasp as I turn to find Reed standing behind me.

“May I cut in?” He phrases it as a question, but the look in his eyes says it’s a demand.

Jared immediately drops my hand. I turn to him and give him a tight smile. “Thank you for the dance. I hope you’ll save one for me at the ball.”