Page 55 of My Turn Petal
“God, I would have fucked you on that balcony.” He bites his lips hard and palms my cheeks. “Maybe I’m a math teacher with a dirty secret.”
“Really?”
“I used to be a strip dancer at night, I did shows and private performances occasionally.”
A teacher by day and a stripper by night. There is a lot I don’t know about Theo, but I always knew that I didn’t, and it never bothered me because he revealed to me what was needed.
“Made a name for yourself?” I ask.
“Something like that.”
“I would have never guessed, youarefull of surprises.”
“A man does what a man’s got to do to keep a woman entertained.” He clears his dry voice, “It’s been a while since I’ve done it.”
“Doesn’t feel like it,” I tease, “How long has it been?”
“Three years.” It feels like he dismisses the words, “It didn’t feel right anymore.”
That’s how long we have known each other, and a question arises on my features but I don’t vocalize it.
It could be, and maybe not.
I joke instead, “Does that mean I can have a lap dance?” but not really, I would love to get one.
He chuckles sweetly, a tiny bit embarrassed which is so unlike him. “Anything for you.”
“Aren’t you afraid to be recognized by your student’s moms?” These days they are everywhere.
“I always performed with a mask.”
“Oh… so that’s how you became famous,” my smile broadens, “Why did you do it?”
“Being a teacher doesn’t pay you much and honestly, I needed something else and dancing was always around me because of my mom.”
“You never talk about your parents?”
“I don’t know my dad, all I have is his last name. And my mom lives a quiet life with her boyfriend and I’m happy for her, she deserves some peace. She had me when she was twenty and had to sacrifice a lot to raise me as a single parent.”
“What is her name?”
“Luna Ramirez.”
My face must fill with utter surprise, “No way.”
“I went to her dance lessons when I was a kid.” I smile. “I mean, a few until some kids bullied me and I stopped.”
The fact I know his mother seems to come second when I confess kids bullied me, based on his serious expression. “What kids?”
“Just a girl who told unspeakable words about me, words that according to her, were said to her. Just lies, but I had enough, it wasn’t fun for me anymore. But your mom’s lessons were amazing.”
“Who is she?”
“I don’t know.” I pull my mouth upside-down, “I was in eighth grade and she wasn’t from around my neighborhood.”
Thinking about it pulls me back to the far past.
So much has been taken away from me as a kid—just being a kid. Instead of being oblivious and enjoying those moments as a little girl, I had to deal with bullies from school as well. And that’s when I started to wear tougher skin, show that I didn’t give a fuck about what they say, and if they come at me I’d be ready for a fight.
