The Bad Boy's Dance (2 page)

              What waswrong with these girls? Asher’s playboy reputation was no secret. He was a hit it and quit it kind of guy
.
Wham-Bam, Thank You Ma'am" was probably tattooedon his back
.
He’d been with half the female population in the school and left many a broken heart behind, the swine. How he could function with all those STD’s, I had no clue.
I heard syphilis makes you go mad if left untreated. That could explain why he thought it was okay to smash the student newspaper staff's computer because they posted an article using him as a cautionary tale urging 'safe sex'.

              “I can’t believe he’s in this class!”

              “Look at those biceps!”

              “I heard he was in a police chase this morning, that’s why he was late to his first period.”

              “Didn’t he kill a man?”

              “He’s so hot!”

              Snorting, I paid attention to Mr. Elmore lest I go ape and start swinging off the ceiling and slapping the star-struck girls with my feet.
I could do it too, thanks to my older brother Spencer, who watched an endless stream of Youtube videos until he was pretty much more monkey than man.

              I was the last person to leave once the bell rang. Dance class was next.

             
Stupid Mr. Henderson! Why couldn’t you be a decent human being for once and let me drop this class?

             
I hesitated in front of the door to the dance room. Could I do this?

             
Come on, it’s just a stupid dance class. It’s not a competition or a league or anything.

             
Squaring my shoulders, I threw the door open and entered the air conditioned area. The wooden floor was immaculately polished and surrounded by mirrors. A small stretching bar was against a wall, and a mini stage for the teacher against another.

              “Ivy Robello?” the teacher, Mrs. Knut called.

              I wasn’t paying attention. See, I’d spotted something that had made my stomach turn, my throat sour, and my lunch shrivel into itty bitty raisins.

              Asher Grayson was in this class.

Chapter Two

The Ultimatum

This was impossible. What could he be doing here? It was an unwritten rule that guys didn’t take dance.

              That’s why he was in the office this morning! The system stuck him in Dance too!

              He hadn’t seen me yet. Maybe he wouldn’t remember that I’d stomped on his foot?

              “Miss Robello? Are you alright?” Mrs. Knut asked with concern.

              I faked a smile in her direction. “I’m fine.”

              After another curious glance at me, she went on to greet the incoming students. I took off my shoes and stood in my socks. It was the first thing she’d tell us to do, anyway. This dance studio wasn’t too bad for a high school studio.

              “It’s going to be a lot harder for you to step on fee without shoes on,” a deep voice said next to my ear.

              There really was no excuse for my response. Seriously, I’d gone to school with the guy for years.

              So it was completely unreasonable that I let out a blood- curdling scream.

              Everyone stopped and stared at me. I couldn’t bear to look at Asher. I cleared my throat. “Sorry! Thought I saw a roach,” I explained lamely.

              Right. 
A roach, because sane people scream like that when they see roaches. Good one, Ivy
.

              “I accept your apology.” Oh my gosh, why was he still here? Was he going to plotting his revenge?

             
He’s going to chop me up into bits with his pocket knife!

             
He poked my shoulder when I still didn’t move. “What are you, deaf? I’m talking to you.”

              I smacked his finger away before I could stop myself.

             
Stop being such a wimp, Ivy.

             
I turned to Asher Grayson and crossed my arms over my chest. He was only a foot or so away from me. Way too close! I shuffled back a few steps.

              “What do you want?” I demanded, happy that my voice didn’t squeak.

              He smirked down at me. I was tall, yet I only came up to Asher’s shoulder. “It speaks.”

             
It? Did he just call me an ‘it’?!

             
“What do you want?” I repeated, annoyed now. This was my senior year. If I spent all of it cowering from the Plastics, I’d never forgive myself. They weren’t going to ruin this year for me.

              Asher studied me, and my skin prickled uncomfortably under his probing gaze. “Why are you in this class?” I blurted, hoping to get him to stop looking at me like that.

              He grimaced. “Henderson told me I wouldn’t graduate if I didn’t take this class. All the classes I take, and he tells me that I can’t graduate if I don’t take this damn class.” It sounded like he was muttering the last part to himself.

              “Me too,” I commiserated.

              “Mm…but you have a dancing body,” he smirked. “I’ll bet you’re
really….
flexible.”

              My ears flamed at his words. Having my hair in a loose bun had it’s drawbacks, like say, not covering my reddening ears.

              “That’s gross,” I replied flatly.

              “What’s gross?” he asked innocently. He wanted me to say it. The perv!

             
I’ll bet loads of girls don’t think so.

             
He was stunning, that was true. His dark blue eyes looked amazing with his dark hair. A lock fell across his cheek, and he blew it aside. “Your face,” I snapped without thinking.

              Shoot! Why couldn’t I learn to keep my mouth shut? I was going to die. This is it. At least I was dying in 2015. Take that, 2012 fatalists!

              His lips parted in surprise before he clutched his side and laughed.

              I scowled at him and stalked away. Your face? That was the best I could come up with? Spencer would be so disappointed.

              “Welcome to Dance, ladies…and gentleman. Are you ready?!” Mrs. Knut hollered.

              “Yes!”

              No!

              “I’m not going to go over the syllabus and that nonsense. It’s not like any of you will remember it anyway, right? We’re going to be learning hip-hop, ballroom dancing, the tango, you name it! I’m going to pick a song a random song from my iPod and play it. Show me what you can do! This is your chance to impress me,” Mrs. Knut psyched. She went over to her iPod, pressed a button, and next thing you know, Britney Spears was everywhere.

              Everyone started moving awkwardly from side to side as Mrs. Knut called out encouragements. I just kind of stood there, fighting the rhythm of the music.

             
Be strong! Don’t dance!

             
But the beat to this song was great. It was impossibly difficult to suppress my urge to move.

              I glanced at Asher. He was standing there, and to my confusion, he was staring at me with a perplexed expression. That was not an expression you saw on Asher Grayson’s face often.

              He smirked when our eyes met, and I looked away quickly. No doubt he liked this song- hell, he’d probably lived it.

              “Ivy Robello and Asher Grayson!” Mrs. Knut was not happy.

              The girls watched him lustily. The freshmen were in awe, and it was clear Asher knew the effect he had as he sauntered over to Mrs. Knut. I followed behind him, and I had to admit, he did have a very nice rear.

              “Why weren’t either of you dancing?” Mrs. Knut chastised.

              Asher yawned with boredom. “I don’t dance.”

              Mrs. Knut turned her gaze to me, and I shrugged guiltily. “Me either.”

              “Does that mean you can’t or won’t dance?” Mrs. Knut demanded.

              I wrung my hands. If I said that I couldn’t dance, she’d think I was shy and try that much harder to get me to participate. If I said I wouldn’t she’d refer me to Mr. Henderson.

              “Won’t.” Asher and I answered at the same time. We glanced at each other. He could dance? Of course. The only thing he couldn’t do was be a decent human being.

              “I see,” Mrs. Knut said. She sighed regretfully. “That’s a real shame. Stay after class, the two of you.”

              As if on cue, the bell blared and the students exited quickly. “Don’t forget to wear your dance clothes tomorrow!” Mrs. Knut called after them.

              She turned to us again. Mrs. Knut was pretty for a teacher. She had spiky short hair, long legs, and tan skin that wasn’t weathered by wrinkles.

              “What are we going to do with you?” she murmured, tapping her nails across her lower lip.

              Suddenly, her eyes lit up. “I know! You two want to get out of this class, right?”

              We nodded. It was starting to get creepy how in sync we were.

              “Then I have a solution that’ll make everyone happy. I can talk to Mr. Henderson and have you both drop this class at the end of the semester on a condition.”

              Condition?

              A creepily triumphant smile was on her face. “At the end of the semester is the National Dance Tournament. If you two participate in it and win third place, you can drop the class and still graduate.”

              I gawked at her. Was she serious?!No way was I participating in the National Dance Tournament. Before…before my sophomore year, my trainer had been conditioning me to enter. I never got the chance because I quit dancing a few months later.

              “Hell. No.” Asher was a little more forward with his refusal. 

              Mrs. Knut crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s not an option, Mr. Grayson. And don’t worry. You’ll be partnered with Miss Robello for the tournament. I’m sure if you two work hard in the next few months, you’ll be great. After all, you
can
dance,” she grinned.

              Mrs. Knut was high. That was the only way she could think I’d join the NDT, especially with
him.

              “No way!” I protested. “That’s not fair!”

              She shrugged. “That’s life, Miss Robello. Not much we can do about it but bear it with grace.”

              Asher looked like he was deep in thought. He stared at me with intensity for a minute before turning back to Mrs. Knut. “We’ll do it.”

              “
Excuse you
?” I shouted. “I’m not doing it! I’m not doing anything with you!”

              Asher frowned at me, like I was a troublesome child. “I’ll convince her,” he told Mrs. Knut.

              That-that- douche canoe! Where did he get off saying ‘he’d convince me’? Uh-oh. My violence was surfacing, and challenging Asher Grayson in a fight was tantamount to suicide. This was the guy who’d thrown a bouncer through a window because he wouldn’t let him pass.

              I scrambled to stuff my feet in my combat boots. Grabbing my backpack, I shot Asher a dirty look and stormed out. The nerve!

              The school was much emptier, since everyone had gone home. Dana was going to be ticked. I found her and Caleb sitting on the bench. They stood at the sight of me.

              “Ivy? What’s the matter?” Dana asked in concern.

              With difficulty, I suppressed the anger. “Nothing. I’ll tell you guys later. Let’s go home.”

              They hopped into my car, still shooting me cautious looks. I revved the engine and merged into traffic.

              I told my friends about my dance dilemma, fuming when I spoke of Asher’s role.

              Dana was shocked in the back seat, so I let her process while Caleb gave me his opinion. “I think you should do it. It’s not like Grayson is going to kill you if he needs you to graduate.”

              Caleb didn’t know me when I was a freshman or sophomore. He only knew a few facts about my dancing history or…
him.
“I don’t think I can, Caleb. Especially with Asher Grayson! He’s so-so-” I couldn’t find an adjective to properly explain the infuriating, arrogant, heart-meltingly handsome bad boy.

              “I-I think you should do it, Ivy,” Dana mumbled. Did I hear that right? My best friend- who knew
everything-
was encouraging me to do this?