Chapter 16: Dancing Lessons
Rowena
I stepped up to the front door of Eric’s dorm; more of a cottage, really. All of the highest- ranked warriors, like Eric, had their own cottages in a small village on the east side of the camp. Some of them shared the space with two or maybe even three roommates, but not him.
No, Eric had his own cottage.
He rarely stayed the night here, though; why would he, when he had our parents‘ mansion to stay in? His cottage was pretty much reserved for date nights with random girls and parties.
I let out a small huff of annoyance as I raised my hand to knock on the door. Eric had insisted that I come here after class today, wearing something I could move around in easily.
A moment later, the door swung open. Eric puffed his chest out a bit as he drank me in with his eyes. “You brought heels, too?” he asked, his gaze sweeping over my comfortable sweatshirt and leggings.
I nodded and held up the bag where my high heels for the homecoming dance were waiting.” Yep. Got them here.”
“Good. Come in.”
Eric held the door a little wider, but barely moved away so that my shoulder brushed up against him as I nudged past. I looked around at the sparse furnishings and let out a small laugh.
“You don’t decorate much.”
Eric simply shrugged as he crossed over to the middle of the living room and closed the curtains. “I’m not here all that often,” he said matter–of–factly. “Besides, the bedroom is the only place that matters to me.”
The mention of his bedroom made my face redden a bit. I didn’t want to hear about my brother’s sexual conquests.
“Put your heels on.”
I made my way over to the couch and sat down, slipping off my sneakers to put on the high heels I had bought for the upcoming dance.
They were a metallic silver color, not too flashy and not too tall. I barely knew how to walk in high heels, let alone dance in them; so I had gone for something a bit more modest in height. Besides, I liked the way that lower heels looked more than heels that were too high.
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Eric let out a small scoff. “You’re wearing those?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest.
I narrowed my eyes as I met his gaze. “Why? Something wrong with them?”
“They’re just… a little short, don’t you
think?”
Now, I was the one who let out a scoff. “They’re a good height,” I said. “I don’t like the look of tall heels, anyway. They’re impractical and a little silly.”
Eric opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it again as if he decided better. He turned then and clicked on the stereo. Soft, romantic music began to play over the speakers, the quiet notes of a female voice warbling through the barren room. It seemed to echo off the walls in the empty space, almost like a real dance hall.
“Follow my lead. I’ll take you through the steps first.”
Eric took my hand and placed it on his shoulder, then took the other hand in his. He wrapped one hand around my waist; but his movements were harsh and quick, and his tone was impatient as he instructed me.
“It’s like this,” he said. “Pay attention, because I’m only saying it once. One, two, three… Let me lead…”
I did as Eric said, trying my best to match his steps with the beat he gave me. But my movements were clumsy and stiff; I had never danced like this before, and it seemed to aggravate him.
“Come on, Rowena, it’s not that hard…”
“I’m trying…”
“Ow! You stepped on my foot!” he exclaimed. At that moment, I felt his fingers dig into my ribs harshly, and I winced.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
Eric huffed. “Here.” He moved his other hand to my waist and lifted me straight up like a doll, so that my feet weren’t even touching the floor. A gasp caught in my throat as he whirled me around.
“You’re just getting back at me on purpose,” I finally said, breathless and red in the face, once he set me back down. “Look, I’m sorry I teased you earlier-”
But Eric simply continued dancing. “Just follow my lead,” he said. His tone was the tiniest bit softer now. “Let’s continue.”
And so we did. I slowly began to familiarize myself with the steps, and Eric’s attitude seemed
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#Chapter 16: Dancing Lessons
to grow less harsh as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Before I knew it, we had danced through an entire album of romantic songs, and I was actually beginning to get the hang of the moves.
We finally came to a stop at the end of the last song, a bit out of breath but smiling. I pulled away as a grin crept across my lips.
“Well?” I asked with a mock curtsy. “How did I do, professor?”
Eric did that thing again where he opened his mouth and then closed it again, as if he wanted to say something more but couldn’t bring himself to do it. “Not bad,” he said after a few moments. “You still have a lot of improving to do, but…”
His voice trailed off, but I didn’t need him to finish; that simple praise was all I had hoped for.
“Do
you
think that Adrian will accept my invitation now?” I asked.
Eric’s face seemed to fall then. He let out a sigh and ran a hand through his blond hair. “ Rowena, I’ve been meaning to tell you…”
I felt my heart sink, although I didn’t entirely know why. “What is it?”
Eric gestured for me to follow him, and we both sat down on the couch. Our hips touched as I leaned forward and unbuckled my heels.
“Rowena,” he finally said, “I’m so sorry, but… Adrian already found a date to the dance. He’s not going to go with you.”
I felt as though cold ice water had just been poured over me. “W–What?” I murmured. “He… He did?”
Eric nodded solemnly. “Go with me instead, okay? Would that make you feel better?” he said softly. “I won’t let you go alone, and besides, none of the girls here interest me. You and I make good dance partners, too.”
As he spoke, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders in that intimate way that usually warmed me. But now, it only made me colder.
I quickly shoved him away and stood. “Maybe if you hadn’t insisted that I wait to ask him, he wouldn’t already have a date.”
The carrot sliced easily beneath the sharp knife as the harsh sound echoed through Eric’s kitchen. I furrowed my brow as I sliced, each piece chopping away harder and harder. When the carrot was finished, I forcefully threw the pieces into a bowl and then moved on to chopping the zucchini.
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“Letting your frustrations out on those vegetables?”
Eric’s voice coming from the doorway caught my attention, but I didn’t lift my gaze as I continued to forcefully chop the zucchini. “Nope. Just making dinner as payment for the dancing lesson.”
That was a bit of a lie; while I was making dinner for us, I was also visualizing Heather’s limbs beneath my knife. Two birds with one stone, if you will.
My brother crossed the kitchen and peered into the pot of simmering pasta in homemade tomato sauce on the stove. I shot him a look as he grabbed the wooden spoon and scooped a piece of pasta out, tasting it carefully.
“Hmm,” he said thoughtfully as he chewed. His bright blue eyes almost seemed to light up, and he went back for a second piece; but I quickly slapped his hand away.
“It’s almost done,” I said scoldingly. “You can wait until then.”
Eric chuckled. “Sorry. It’s just that you’re a surprisingly good cook,” he said. He smirked, folding his arms as he leaned on the counter. “Maybe you’ll make a good mom someday.”
Without lifting my gaze from the zucchini, I felt my hand freeze with the knife still in it.
“I’m only eighteen,” I said. “I think I’ve still got plenty of time left before I start worrying about kids.”
Eric simply smirked; although, I couldn’t deny that the interaction made me soften a bit. Maybe going to the dance with Eric wouldn’t be so awful after all.
I mean, at least we cared about each other, right?
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