Dance Academy Tara Webster Novels & Stories

Seeing that Odell and Tara hardly budged, one of the hosts turned to them and asked, “Master Carter, don’t you want to dance with Miss Avery?” Tara regarded the crowded dance floor with a contemptuous look. She had wanted the privilege of the first dance along with Odell, but Tristan and the nasty Sylvia had swooped in and taken the opportunity. Still, she wanted to dance with Odell. After all, she had dressed up for the night. She asked him eagerly, "Odell, shall we?” Odell answered crossly, "No." He was not some jester who would dance for the amusement of others. Tara thought he refused because the floor was already so crowded. She relented and sighed, “Alright.”

She turned to her friends. "Girl, you look dope!" It was Tara John. Short for Omotara John. The sexiest super bikini model and actress in the city. Tara was twenty two years old. More like the youngest among her group of friends but the one with the smartest tongue and biggest gut. Tara was fearless and the kind of model who loves to live her life as she deems fit without looking at snide comments from haters.

“Do you know how many organs I would donate for $200,000? Do you? Because I will donate everything except my brain. That one is needed for drama.” Melody burst into laughter. “Funny how you switched sides when you heard the money.” “You don’t understand,” Tara said, pacing dramatically. “This is New York City. We sing one anthem here.” She wiggled her fingers like a magician. “It’s all about. The moneyyyyy.” Melody was laughing so hard she leaned onto the wall. “Okay, I have questions,” Tara said, suddenly serious. “When do you start acting? Do you have to move in? Do you start pretending to love him tomorrow? Do you need to practice holding hands? The people need answers!”

I corrected. The woman smiled. “Take it easy. Your secret is safe.” Taylor offered to clean the tableware. I told her not to because the servants would do it, but she insisted. Darcy walked to her room, so I followed after her. I needed to teach her a lesson. Darcy went to the club on weekend mornings to practice before performing in the evening. She didn't have enough time to learn a new dance after practicing for her performance last night. However, I knew she would master the moves quickly.

She didn’t care about expiry dates beyond it was free. She’d waited and thought about what she’d say to get into the club. The hours ticked by, and she tried calling Eddie several times. No answer his number only rang. She felt so isolated and betrayed. How could he have done this? They were family, blood. He knew this was a bad path. Finally, at eight, Tara put on what little makeup she had, did her blonde hair up in a messy bun, and slipped into the outfit. She only knew how to put her hair into this style. Her mother hadn’t stayed around after her father’s death to teach her much more.

Carefree and untroubled, even for a while. "Hello Luna, I’m Tara, the chief instructor today. We weren't expecting you, but this is a good show. Thank you for coming and welcome,” Tara greeted earnestly. Sandra looked for any disdain in her voice or even her eyes, but there was none. For people who had been bent on making Sandra out to be the devil, Tara sure had rehearsed this one too many times because there was no other explanation for what was happening right now.

He's just trying to help," I told myself, trying to convince myself that the dance didn't mean anything. "Come on, let me distract you by showing you my killer moves," Tara said and pulled me toward the crowd. We danced and waltzed, and my mood started to improve a little as I let the music take over my body and forgot about Beverly and Craig. Though there were times when I had no choice but to glance over at them, and whenever I did, my heart twisted with jealousy. "Let me go dance with Westin," I said to Tara. "Oh, okay. Let me find some hunk to dominate," she laughed and walked away.