CHAPTER THREE

Chapter Three

   

“Gigi.” I twirl to meet Adam’s mesmerising eyes. The corner of his lip hikes up in something that resembles a smile and a smirk at the same time.

   I hear Cleo gasp from beside me. I am more shocked than she is.

   “Adam,” I find the courage to say. His smile-smirk increases in intensity then he takes a few steps towards us, closing the gap. Then a foreign thought enters my mind, what if this is a prank? Adam has never sought me out like this before so why today? “Do you want something?” my voice is low and tentative.

   He shakes his head; a smile playing on his full lips like it is completely absurd that he would want something from me. Maybe it is.

   “Cleo, may we be excused?” he asks her politely.

    I blink. Have I somehow been transported to an alternate universe where Cleo gets the Sugarplum Fairy and Adam Adie wants to be in my company alone?

   Cleo seems more than happy to oblige. She lets go of my hand and gives me a smile that makes me think Adam should want to be excused with her not me. “I will wait for you in your room, okay?”

   “Okay.”

    She opens the door and vanishes inside.

   Adam clears his throat, reminding me that I am in a strange reality and I desperately want to find a way home. “Shall we?” he says as he offers me his hand. The very same hand I have been dying to hold for years.

   “Yes,” I squeak like the weirdo that I am.

    Adam leads me to the roof of the school. We pass groups of dancers who whisper and whistle as we walk by. Adam is the most wanted male dancer but also the most unavailable. He never chased anybody and never gave anyone who tried to chase him the time of the day. Everyone speculates that he has a non-dancer girlfriend. I am more shocked than the whole school combined that we are walking hand in hand up the stairs to the highest floor.

    When we burst out of the confining and suffocating walls of the school and into the fresh air of the roof, I let out a sigh and suck in the revitalising air.

   Adam watches me with amusement etched in his features.

   “What’s so funny?” I blurt out a bit harsher than I intended.

   “Nothing,” he says, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

   I blanch when I realise that our hands are still clasped together, I quickly unclasp them and step away from him. If this is a prank, I intend to save myself as much embarrassment as possible.

   “What’s wrong?” he asks, eyeing me warily. Something like hurt flickers behind his eyes.

   “Nothing,” I lie smoothly. I have become so much better at lying recently. Then I say, “Why were you staring at me back in the hall?”

   “You were staring first, Gigi,” he points out calmly.

    “That is normal,” I say in an attempt to defend myself.

     “Excuse me?” One of his perfectly arched brows rises in question.

    “It is normal for people to stare at you,” I tell him. “Have you not noticed?”

    “Likewise.”

   “Huh?”

    “People stare at you too, Gigi Ashi.” He takes steps closer until he is right in front of me. “Have you not noticed?”

    I laugh because it seems like the appropriate thing to do. I do not turn heads like Adam does. “That is not true.”

   He shakes his head and tisk. “You are simply not as observant as I am.”

   “People do not ogle at me,” I say with an eye roll, “especially not you.”

     “I have been ogling at you since the first day I saw you dance, Gigi.”

     Maybe it was his smouldering gaze or the way that he called my name that sent monarch moths crazy in my tummy. I still cannot believe that Adam is talking to me, Gigi. My theory of an alternate universe seems very plausible. That or maybe I am stuck in a dream.

   “You. . . have been staring at me?” I whisper.

    His eyes have not left my face even for a second. The fabric of my leotard is beginning to stick to the skin at my back and my armpits. My palms are so sweaty, I will not let him touch them so I wipe them (as discreetly as I can manage) on my leotard.

   “So much that my friends ridicule me for it. Some say that it is my favourite pastime.”

    Something like a whimper sounds low in my throat.

   “I was expecting you to get the role of the Sugarplum Fairy. I could not help but imagine you in my arms.” He flashes me one of his smile-smirk guns in his arsenal. My knees buckle and my pulse races like a galloping stallion.

    “Too bad,” I choke out, looking away from him. “You must think that I am a failure.”

     “On the contrary,” he says firmly, rebuking the idea. “You can still dance the Sugarplum Fairy.”

       “How do you mean?” I ask as my senses go on full alert, begging to learn how I can get what is rightfully mine.

   “Perhaps your friend Cleo might have a little accident,” he says as he wiggles his brows at me.

     “No way!” I yell. I know that dancers pull pranks on each other with the aim to hurt those who were in the roles they wanted but I was not that type of dancer.

      Adam bursts into a fit of laughter.  “Look at your face!” He says guffawing. “I was just kidding, Gigi.”

    I can not help but laugh along with him. Of course he is just joking.

   Then all of a sudden, his features become very serious. It was as if I imagined him laughing. “I have a favour to ask of you, Gigi.”

    “What is it?” I ask as my muscles tense up.

    “I am humbly requesting your company to a poetry reading this Sunday, will be unoccupied?”

   Something roars in my ears. I want to jump, do a cartwheel and leap into the air at the same time. I know what my answer is.