Chapter 4
Dafne
“I am overjoyed to be tackling this dance with you, everyone,” Ms. Eisner says the next day at our first dance rehearsal, her hands resting above her heart. “I believe it will truly set the tone for the show, which is why it needs to be unforgettable,” she continues, passing her piercing blue gaze over us, her hair slicked back in a bun so tight I’ve always been worried her brain was going to come out of her ears at some point. One of the very first things we will be working on is the dance where Romeo and Juliet meet, neither aware of who the other is behind their masks. It’s a crucial point in the story, as upon seeing Juliet for the first time, Romeo completely forgets about the girl he thought he was in love with.
Only Juliet exists now.
Mr. Hackle decided he wanted to put emphasis on their dance as a metaphor for their relationship. I’m excited, really; I love dancing, but if Theodore steps on my feet, I will never let him live it down. It’s a win-win .
She makes us pair up; the choreography will revolve around Theodore and me at centre stage. I fix my ponytail once before meeting him halfway, his stare impassible as Ms. Eisner begins to explain the moves, the first being a curtsy for me and a bow in his case. “I could get used to you doing this every time you see me,” Theodore whispers.
“Only if it involved throwing up on your shiny loafers, Price,” I whisper back, rising with a too-sweet smile on my lips. That seems to shut him up.
“Now, meet your partner’s right hand first, then the second, like so,” our teacher demonstrates with her assistant, and we repeat. I try not to be self-conscious about the fact that my hands are freezing, while his are pleasantly warm. They’re also… big. My fingertips-barely-reach-his-middle-joints kind of big.
“I thought this was Romeo and Juliet, not Dracula,” he quietly drawls.
“You want to blame me for genetically poor blood circulation, go ahead,” I hiss, focusing on our joined hands rather than his face.
And then he chuckles. It’s brief and quiet, but he was definitely amused, and now he’s scrambling to hide it. I don’t have recollection of another time he’s laughed at something I said–in a non-mocking way, that is.
“Everyone is bound to cave at my irresistible humour sooner or later,” I smirk as we start turning in a slow circle .
“I didn’t think you had a single funny bone in your body, Wright,” he stops at the same time as Ms. Eisner’s assistant, then comes closer and places both hands on my waist for the next step.
You can’t stand this bloke, Dafne, remember? Don’t you dare blush. I position my hands on his shoulders, and he lifts me up in a half twirl with a stupid grin. “You’re enjoying this too much,” I mutter as he puts me down, one hand brushing on my waist a second longer than necessary before he joins it with mine midair, one, two, three steps forward; one, two, three steps back.
“While I’m sure this is torture for you,” he says, the usual amount of sarcasm seeping through the words. Ms. Eisner claps once, then walks up to her computer.
“Alright everyone, from the top with music, then we’ll continue.”
We don’t speak anymore for the next hour, but the air is heavy with the unmistakable charge of competitiveness, pressing closer with each new step. I know it’s not right, and it probably does my blood pressure no good, but sometimes it’s almost an ache–how badly I want to excel. It must be the same for Theodore, so in some twisted way, I understand why he is the way he is. Not enough to justify his attitude towards me, though.
At the end of the lesson, we’ve learned most of the choreography, and Ms. Eisner asks that we kindly keep practicing so we don’t forget anything, mostly because it will be vital to help build chemistry between our characters. I glance sideways at Theodore only to notice a muscle ticking in his jaw. I think I might have underestimated just how deeply he hates being stuck with me in this.
Ollie comes up to me with the bag I carried to dance class already on his shoulder.
“My brain is threatening to shut down. Coffee?”
“Don’t make jokes about your brain shutting down, please,” I raise one eyebrow as I zip my bag open to grab my water canteen.
Ollie snorts and looks behind my shoulder. “So? Is Price ready for Dancing with the Stars ?” he whispers .
“Not if I’m his partner, he’s not,” I huff. “Look at his face. It’s like he’d rather hold hands with a cactus than dance with me for five minutes.”
“Maybe he’s just constipated.”
“Ollie!” I laugh, unable to keep my voice down as I push him towards the exit. I pick up my APDAS sweatshirt from where I’d tossed it before class, just inside the door, and when I look up, Theodore not-so-subtly drags his gaze away from me. Alright, creep.
“I used to be constipated, don’t discriminate,” I add with a quiet laugh, and glance at Theodore one last time before we leave.
Theodore
How we are going to get through months of this is absolutely beyond me. It’s not even that working together is hard–that’s not it. I think we are both aware of how important these roles could be for us moving forward. I made the mistake of looking at her as she was leaving, and of course she noticed. I wasn’t even thinking, I just–
“Theo,” Devon says before taking a swig of his water bottle, “Are we still on for that extra stage combat workout?”
“Uh, sure,” I mutter, stuffing my belongings in my rucksack.
My friend clears his throat, and I look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Are you going to lose your mind after every rehearsal with her? Because at this rate you’re going to need aromatherapy ev–”
“Remind me why we’re friends again?” I purse my lips, mostly because I don’t want to laugh.
“Because I’m wise beyond my years and you need me to be the shining light that guides you,” he says matter-of-factly.
As we make our way to the showers, I am immensely grateful for the fully packed day of lessons ahead. I need to keep my head and body occupied and focused. I need to be prepared for tomorrow.