School helped me get out of my head…somewhat.
Still. There were reminders of Homecoming everywhere.
The student council had picked a theme. It was Vintage Hollywood—which I had to admit sounded pretty awesome. There were so many ways you could go with that. Tickets went on sale today for the dance. Posters had been placed here and there along the halls. Everyone seemed excited.
But that also might’ve been because our first football game of the year was this Friday. There were just as many posters and decorations for that if not more.
I had a pop quiz in second period, a test in fourth, and in my next-to-last class, Mrs. Weebly let us work on a paper that was due in a couple weeks. The paper was for Lit, which was one of my favorite subjects. We were in the library the whole period—again, one of my favorite places—so by the time the final bell rang, I was feeling refreshed, ready for anything.
Or so I thought.
Even though I’d seen him multiple times in the halls—Rhys was a hard guy to miss—we hadn’t spoken since the other day. We’d never talked much before, so it wasn’t like that was some big surprise. But as I was on my way to my locker, he stopped in front of me.
I was startled but managed not to bump into him this time.
“Hey, I may be late today,” he said. “For the dance thing.”
“Oh,” I said.
“We’ve got football, and then I have…something else. It’s important. After I’m done with that, I’ll drive to the studio.”
I waited for more, but he stayed silent.
“So you’re just going to leave it there and be all mysterious?” I asked.
“Yep.” Rhys’s jaw ticked as he nodded. “Just didn’t want you to think I was bailing on you or anything.”
“It’s cool. Thanks for letting me know,” I said. “That was…actually thoughtful of you.”
Rhys shrugged. “No big deal. See you later, Cupcake.”
And then he was gone.
I stood there, trying to wrap my mind around the strange conversation. Rhys obviously had a secret he didn’t want to share—that much was clear. Still, I had no idea what it might be. Looking around, I saw a few sets of eyes on me, but for the most part, they followed Rhys’s back as he walked away. I was right there with them.
That was such a decent thing to do, letting me know he’d be late. How many teenage guys would think of that?
Not many, I figured.
I was proven right a little over an hour later. Our dance rehearsal was about to begin. The studio was a big space with a wooden floor and lots of mirrors. Everyone from Homecoming Court was here—well, almost everyone. Ms. Weaver must have known about football practice and the other secret thing Rhys had going on because she didn’t look upset that two of the princes were MIA.
Lana, however, was a whole different story.
Her arms were crossed, and she kept glancing down at her watch, then to the door with this stressed look on her face.
“Well,” Ms. Weaver said, “I guess we should begin. I’ve only rented the studio for three and a half hours. And I’m sure you’re all eager to dance, dance, dance!”
“Ms. Weaver,” Lana said, “my prince isn’t here yet. What am I supposed to do?”
She nodded. “I know. Coach Feinnes told me Rhys and Zander would be arriving late. Why don’t you and Ariel work together until they get here?”
Lana muttered something that sounded like, “Zander, the big oaf, he should’ve told me.” But to Ms. Weaver, she smiled and said, “Sure, that would be awesome.”
When she turned back to me, the smile dropped a little.
“Just so we’re clear,” she said, “I’m the girl in this scenario.”
My brows furrowed. “Can’t we both be?”
Lana simply shook her head. “We could, but we won’t. I’m the girl. You’re the guy. That’s just how it is, Cupcake.”
“Okay,” I said, “but I don’t think it really matters.”
“I’m glad you see it my way,” she said.
It wasn’t worth arguing over. Whether I was the girl or the guy, I’d do my best.
Ms. Weaver stepped to the center of the floor along with the man who had opened the studio for us. His hair was black and so were his clothes, the top buttons of his shirt undone, revealing a small V of skin. The guy had a natural tan and the whitest teeth I’d ever seen.
“I wonder if he does toothpaste commercials,” I said.
Lana shushed me.
But I just couldn’t help it. “I’m just saying he should. I’d buy what he was selling if it made my teeth sparkle like that.”
“Oh my gosh, Cupcake,” she hissed. “Will you shut up?”
“Jeez, okay,” I said.
A second later, Lana added, “Besides, he probably goes for whitening appointments. It’s common in the pageant world.”
“Really?” I asked, and she nodded. Well, that made more sense.
“Princesses and princes,” Ms. Weaver said, “may I present to you, Mr. Dominic Patachoui! He’s an expert in all things ballroom, and he has graciously agreed to help us prepare for Homecoming. Each year, the winning king and queen share a first dance, and the other students clear the floor while we spotlight the royal couple.”
Lana was nodding along with several others, but this was news to me.
Dancing while everyone watched…
It sounded like my worst nightmare.
“All the nominees will be a part of the second dance, and everyone else can join in after. The reason we’re here today is to learn how to dance. Properly,” she emphasized. “There will be no twerking here. This is a booty-popping-free zone. If you want to grind, do it on your own time.”
I wasn’t the only one who laughed.
“These are choreographed ballroom dances, ladies and gentlemen!” she went on. “Without further ado, I’ll hand things over to Mr. Patachoui.”
We clapped as the man stepped forward.
“Thank you very much, Juliana,” he said with a slight accent. “I’m so glad I could help and work with you kids. I will teach you much today. But here is what I want you to keep in mind…” There was a pause, and then, “Tradition!”
The word came out more like a shout. Even Ms. Weaver jumped.
“Tradition,” he repeated more softly, “is why we are here today. Grace is what I’m going to teach you. And as we all know, grace and glory go hand in hand. If you want that crown, you’re going to have to work for it. Are you ready to work?”
No one said anything.
“Well, are you?” he raised his voice again.
“Yes,” came the response. Honestly, I thought everyone was too afraid not to answer. Mr. Patachoui was a little intense.
“Then let’s go, people.” Mr. Patachoui’s white teeth made another appearance. “We’ll start with the basics: walking arm in arm. This shouldn’t be too hard.”
He was right. It shouldn’t have been.
But for whatever reason, Lana and I couldn’t get our walk together. When I stumbled for the third time, she huffed.
“Come on, Cupcake,” she said. “It’s just walking. You do it every day. What is the problem?”
“The problem,” I said, “is you keep trying to take off without me.”
Lana lifted a brow. “You’re walking too slow.”
“But that’s what we’re supposed to do,” I said. “Mr. Patachoui called it a ‘slow glide.’ You’re going too fast.”
“Whatever,” she said. “At this rate, we’ll never make it to the other end of the room. A snail moves quicker than you.”
“I’m just following the instructions.”
“No, you’re holding us up.”
I looked at her a moment then nodded. “Okay, I’ll try it your way.”
Lana seemed happy to have won the argument. I did as she asked, and we made it to the other side of the room where Mr. Patachoui was standing.
“Very good, girls,” he said with a nod, “but next time, try moving a bit slower.”
As he walked away, I bit back a smile, and Lana held up a hand.
“Don’t you dare say it,” she warned.
“Who, me? I wasn’t going to say anything.” After all, Mr. Patachoui had already said it for me. “Want to try again?”
Lana nodded begrudgingly, but before we could lock arms, Rhys and Zander sauntered into the room. Lana’s hands went to her hips.
“Well, it’s about time,” she said to Zander.
“Yeah, sorry I’m late,” he said, running a hand down his neck. “Coach had the defense stay extra-long to discuss strategy and watch game videos.”
“I’d appreciate a warning next time if you’re not going to show up.”
I saw Zander nod sheepishly out of the corner of my eye, but I was looking at Rhys.
“How did practice go?” I asked, taking him in. “And the other thing?”
“Fine,” Rhys said.
What I really wanted to say was: Please tell me more. What happened at your secret rendezvous? But I didn’t want to pry. So instead, I went with—
“Make any good shots?”
His eyes sparked at that. “Nah, but I threw some good passes.”
“Ah.”
“You really don’t know much about football, huh?”
“No, but I’m glad to hear it went well. It’s been kinda rough here.”
“Oh yeah? Did you miss me, Cupcake?” Rhys asked.
I looked over to Lana, who was currently ignoring Zander’s awkward apology. Turning back to Rhys, I gave a solemn nod.
“You have no idea,” I said.
