Page 46 of Love is Strange
“I think about getting out of this town, away from my parents, and away from people who think they can tell me how shitty my future is going to be if I don’t ‘straighten up’ now.” I tell her gruffly.
She can hear the sincerity in my voice, the pained honesty and the strained emotion. I can tell because for a split second, her hardened eyes look down on me and soften. We come to a stop in front of a door that says Dance Hall.
“I went over your records after you left my office this morning. I’m not trying to sound like some sort of authority figure giving you false hope, but…” She pauses, chewing on the inside of her mouth for a moment before she continues. “You have potential. You just have to use it. Stop hating the world before it really chews you up and spits you out.”
Rolling my eyes, I step past her and open the door, “Sorry, Mrs. Welch, buttosound like the punk kid, it’s not gonna fucking happen.”
The door closes louder than expected, causing the class to turn their stares toward me. There are some people stretching, some are standing around, and a few were dancing. I just look at them the same way they’re looking at me, with disdain and disgust. I shake my head and walk over the wall that has a floor to ceiling mirror on it and sit down, putting my legs out in front of me. Reaching into my barren backpack, I grab my phone. Plugging in my headphones, I put on Pandora and turn the volume on blast.
My black ripped jeans are my view for the next forty minutes while everyone else snickers and whispers whatever they please about the new kid who looks like he came from the projects. Funny thing is, I came from the same block as most of them. I just act different and dress different because if I were to be a carbon copy of my parents, like they are to theirs, I wouldn’t be the class act I am today.
I can feel my earphones being pulled from my ears, causing me to open my eyes. A tall figure stands before me with black hair, ominous blue eyes, and an hour-glass figure that instantly grabs ahold of my attention. I smirk before getting to my feet.
“May I ask what you’re still doing in my class?” She asks, her voice smooth like silk.
“Sitting.” I reply, leaning back against the wall, “Was there something else I was supposed to be doing? Or someone, perhaps?”
She smiles, “Aren’t you cute? You must be Ryan?”
“I am.”
“Well, thank you for gracing us with your presences, but class is over now.” She states, looking around at the now empty room.
I take a brief moment to really take in her beauty. Her skin is flawless and milk white. Her legs seem to go on for miles until they come to a very sudden halt against her wide hips and slender waist. Her tits are perky, sitting perfectly against her chest. When I get to her heart-shaped face, I can see her cheeks are flushed but her eyes are giving me a death glare. I smirk unapologetically.
“I would appreciate it if you didn’t look at me like that,” she says, standing a bit taller. That does nothing to help her height as I stand at six-foot-two. She looks to be about five-foot-four, give or take an inch. “I will see you tomorrow, Ryan. I do expect you to actually participate, though, if you want to pass my class. Even if you don’t, you still have to do something besides sit there and act like you are better than everyone else.”
I would be lying if I said her words didn’t bite, but I ignore the small sting they left and move toward her. She coils back, like a snake getting ready to strike. I stop right in front of her, my chest brushing against hers as she stares up at me.
“Maybe tomorrow I can be doing someone, if I have to do something.” I whisper, using my finger to push a stray hair out of her face. I can hear the faint intake of air as she steps back.
“Or maybe I can have you expelled for harassment.” She says, looking at me with a deadly serious stare. “Bring something appropriate and comfortable. I have a lot for you to learn.”
With that, she turns on her heel and heads toward a door off in the corner of the room, her hips swaying the entire time, then slams the door. I groan, going against my better judgement and actually thinking maybe this won’t be so fucking bad after all. That is if I can ease her out of that leotard and ease her onto my dick.
T H R E E
EMILY
There aresome days I have to wonder how it was exactly I wound up as a dance instructor. My dream was not to be teaching teenagers how to curtsey or plié. I had a plan all mapped out in front of me and then—and then I settled for way less than what I set out for.
I guess my job isn't all bad, though. I get to help kids chase their dreams and show them the true art form of dance that was taught to me by some amazing teachers. A few of these kids don't need my help and others are simply a lost cause. I guess that’s why I’m here, really. If I want to look at the bigger picture—I’m here to help the lost cause find some kind of direction.
I let out a soft sigh as I stand up and stretch. Class doesn’t start for another five minutes and I like to be fully prepared for when those rowdy kids walk into my dance hall. I've worked at Grand Valley Prep for over ten years now and have seen so many faces come and go. A lot of my students get scholarships to amazing schools likeJulliardorFordham University. Then there are some who simply join for the extra credit.
And then you have students like Ryan, who are tossed in here to fend for themselves because life hasn't been unfair enough. That boy is something else. Never in my entire time of working here have I had to deal with someone so heinous as him. Yesterday pissed me off entirely, yet after he left I found myself feeling sorry for him. I was warned about him and how he acts from Mrs. Welch, but I didn't think it was going to be that bad.
He has this swag about him, this no-fucks-given exterior. Like he is trying to hide something. In the few short minutes I had with him, I could tell he was going to be trouble if something—or someone—didn’t help him find his way.
He is one of those lost causes I was talking about. No sense of direction because he has never had anyone to guide him. Who knows, I could be completely wrong, and he could very well just be this little asshole who deserves to be taught some real manners. I have a feeling it’s not the latter, though.
Just as I turn around to walk over to the door and open it, I run into a hard body.
Hishard body.
“Jesus. You scared me!” I blurt out loudly, pushing myself off him “What are you doing here?”
“Class starts in one minute.” He replies with a smirk on his face. “I wanted to get a good view before all the young ones come piling in and steal you away from me.”
