“Earth to Kinsley. Are you going to join us or not?” Mr. Dulaine’s raised voice startled me.
“Sorry, Mr. Dulaine,” I mumbled, flushing.
“Would you go first, please?” He waved in front of him.
Taking center stage, I took a deep breath and arched my back, stretching my hands to the sky reverently. The rhythm pulsed in me as the beginning notes played.
Tapping my foot, I swayed as the beat of the song picked up pace. I counted in my head andfive, six, seven, eight, then I moved with the singular purpose of dancing to the lyrics.
The music grew louder, and I lost myself in the choreography, dancing my inhibitions away. Finally, my feet hit the floor, tracing a curve, drawing a line in the sand that no Reaper or former dance partner could trespass. One arm outstretched, my waist jerked outward. My other arm followed suit with yet another jerk of my waist.
The storm would not be calmed. Sliding into splits, I embraced the burn of the stretch before pulling myself back up on the ball of my feet, loose wisps of my hair stuck to my head.
The unforgiving floor was hard beneath me as I gracefully dropped back down and rocked from my back to my front, pulling my body up on my toes. I did the move again, then launched into turns. My voice rang out as I sang the lyrics. They pulled from a place of personal experience.
I could hear the other dancers cheering me on, along with Mr. Dulaine. Finishing the routine, I panted and smiled at Sarah. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aleksandr King in the shadows, dressed in all black.
Anger rushed through me as I glared at him. He smiled, his even white teeth flashing. Pulling out an hourglass from his pocket, he shook it. The sand fell faster as he tapped the top part.
Without thinking, I crossed my arms in front of me, giving him the finger with my right hand on my arm; then, moving it up, I pretended to scratch my cheek. Casually, I walked over to Sarah.
“Who is that?” she asked, following my gaze.
“Some weirdo. Don’t worry about it,” I told her.
Turning away, I noticed Pasha standing next to us. He had this knowing look, like somehow my dancing gave me away.Shit. I should have been more careful. My anger flared, and I lashed out at him.
“Look, I have no idea why you keep insisting I am someone else when I’ve told you I’m not, but you need to leave me alone. I will go to the police,” I threatened with my hands on my hips, tempting him to say something. My index finger ached to poke him in the stomach.
“Kinsley,” Sarah shrieked.
Her shock at my outburst was understandable, but my heart was shattering into a million pieces, so I quickly drew within to distance myself from the emotions.
God, go away, Pasha. You’re killing me. I can’t give you what you want.
“Sarah, you’re up next if you can tear yourself away from socializing,” Mr. Dulaine reprimanded us.
I stood there watching her dance, concentrating on her movements. I ignored Pasha until he eventually sighed and left, and I took a deep breath to steady myself.
“Looks like you have a secret admirer,” Mr. King said, walking over while the other dancers took a turn.
Damn Mr. Dulaine’s open-door policy. “Yes, well, I’m going to call the police on him if he doesn’t leave me alone. Maybe I’ll add your name to the list as well,” I sneered.
I was trying to sound brave but honestly felt very uncertain. There was something about Aleksandr’s voice that shook my insides. I tried to put some distance between us and walked to a far corner of the room, but he followed me over. I crossed my arms, throwing a glare his way. He was so tall, I had to crane my neck to look at him.
Throwing his head back, he laughed. With a soft rustle, his fingers deftly pulled a phone from his pocket. He tapped on the screen and dialed someone.
“Hey, Chief, it’s Alek. Yes, checking in. Are you and the Mrs. still on for next week? Sounds good, see you then. Oh, I’m bringing someone to the gala event. A cute girl I recently met. No, seriously. Her name is Kinsley Taylor.”
I stared at him.That was bold.And did I hear him correctly? He thought I was cute. He flashed me a devilish grin, and warmth spread through my body.
“You’re probably not even talking to anyone,” I huffed.
He attempted to hand me his phone, but I pushed his hand away with a scoff.
“Sorry, she’s calling me a liar. I don’t know if I should be offended or impressed,” he responded into the phone.
I rolled my eyes, and he grinned as he put the phone on speaker. How annoying.
