Read The Bad Boy's Dance for Free Online Page B

take a joke! Let’s swing Ivy up high up on the blacktop- why are you crying? Learn to take a joke!
                  Who was the joke intended to amuse? Certainly not me!
                  “How about you learn to make one? Why are you so rude? You called me stupid!” I shot back.
                  “No I didn’t! It’s not my fault that’s what you thought. Everything I say comes out wrong with you!”
    “How many meaning are there to ‘intellectually unable to keep up’?!”
    “Stop acting standoffish and prissy every time I’m in the same room and none of this will happen!” He paused. “On the other hand, you do look adorable when you’re mad. Like a furious bunny.”
    Oh my jalapeño chilly fries- did Asher Grayson just call me adorable?!
    Technically, his compliment should’ve been negated by him calling me a standoffish priss, but heck, that was nothing new. I’d been called worse. How was it that he could make my blood boil with fury one second and make it heat with shyness the next?
    Still, I couldn’t let him think he’d won. “I wouldn’t have to act standoffish and prissy if you weren’t an arrogant jackass.”
    Asher took a step toward me, and I stumbled back. Crap crap crap! You’ve done it now, Ivy!
    “ I’m an arrogant jackass?” His voice rose, layered with disbelief.
    His anger fueled my own, but common sense hadn’t completely deserted me. “You act like one.”
    He ran a hand through his hair. “That-you- wow.”
    Ivy- one, Asher- six hundred, fifty-five thousand.
    “Let’s get something straight here, shall we?” Asher moved toward me until he was only a foot away. My heart thrummed wildly at his proximity, and my capacity for speech flew out the window. “You don’t know anything about me. Maybe I am a jackass. Maybe I’m not. A girl who’s known me less than a week isn’t ready to make that call, you hear me?”
    Oh, look, my vocals had returned. Half of me wanted to apologize, scamper to the door, and pretend that I hadn’t called the six foot four bad boy and head Plastic of our school a jackass. The other half, well…
    My mother did always say I couldn’t keep my mouth shut when I needed to.
    “Same goes for you, pal! You try to get me to talk, then when I do, you just insult me some more!”
    At this point, we were shouting, and most of the class was riveted. We were too busy with our little Greek drama to pay attention, at least until Mrs. Knut cleared her throat.
    “Start your routines, class!” Mrs. Knut ordered our audience. They slowly complied, but several kept shooting us curious glances.
    Mrs. Knut turned to us, and she did not look happy. “I’m getting sick of this constant bickering with you two! If we’re going to have any chance at winning the NDT, you need to start working together cohesively. That’s why I’m going to assign you a project to do outside of school.”
    “What?!” Our shouts were in unison.
    Mrs. Knut’s round face curled into a radiant smile. “It’ll give you a chance to get to know each other. After all, dancing partners need to know every nuance of their counterpart, feel their slightest shift and understand the most hidden signals. You two aren’t going to accomplish that here. So, my assignment is…you two need to watch five dance-oriented movies and replicate a routine from one of them. And you need to record yourselves for at least ten minutes watching each movie,” she added.
    “But-” I started.
    “I won’t-” Asher and I were both cut off. Mrs. Knut gave us her Cheshire cat grin.
    “Let’s not forget this class is the key to your graduation! Unless you want to be stuck here repeating your senior year?”
    She couldn’t do that! Could she? No one else in the class had to ‘bond’ with their partner!
    No one else in the class is constantly bickering with their partner, either.
    “I expect the footage on my desk by…hmm. I’m feeling charitable, so next Friday?”