Nerdy Dancer Novels & Stories

I can't make a mistake with that scent. It's already too late and impossible to resist because his hand was already around my waist, supporting me as we walk all the way to the dance floor. "Hero Yves and Alyana Yvonne on the dance floor everyone! The almost Mr. and Mrs. Veneracion but never did" the disc jockey jovially announced. A round of applause and cheers followed, it's deafening in that case, but it didn't bother me, what disturbs me at the moment was how can I slip on this act if I don't know how to dance?! Slow panic started to trail on my spine.

I didn't know what exactly they had discussed about me but I stood there as the decoration wife I was meant to be. "You are truly a Belle." Nick said and turned to introduce the lady beside him, who gave Christian a peck immediately she saw him. "This is Natasha, Belle." He introduced her. "My wife." I nodded at the very tall woman and she acknowledged me too. "It's very nice to meet you Belle." She said. "We've surely heard a lot about you." I smiled, wondering what exactly Christian had said to them about me. After a few more conversations, Nick dragged his laughing wife to the dance floor and I wondered if their marriage was also a fake like mine. If they were only being actors too on a s

Right then they were the softest shade of grey making the black rim around them prominent. By the time the first song ended, a lot of people had joined us on the dance floor. I could see Gia, Harper and Amy with their mates. Then there were Alpha Hunter and Misha. I could even see Alpha Luther and his Luna Sheryl dancing to the music. I would never have pegged Alpha Luther for a dancer what with his almost scary look complete with a bald head, dark beady eyes and large beard. But then again, Luna Sheryl was much too bubbly to simply stand around and watch while others danced. I felt happy seeing all my friends happy. Just as we were getting down from the fast filling dance floor, someone ran

And two, because they have the talent. That, I couldn’t deny. Girls swoon as they perform in every school event. With their synchronized move, they are really incredible. Well, that is if they are on stage. Because when they aren’t, they really piss me off. I mean Hunter Looney. He is the main dancer and I might admit that he is really the best dancer of them seven. I might like him if he dances all day and stops pestering on me. Unfortunately, that never did happen. In everyday that the Lord made, Hunter would find brand new ways to pester me.

Once I made my choice, I glanced to the corner table where, sure enough, my best friends were waiting. Jaden spotted me first. He’s tall, Black, queer as hell, and is literally the most sociable person I know. Even the popular kids tolerate him...sometimes. Today he's wearing a cropped lavender hoodie. He waved dramatically like we hadn’t seen each other in years instead of twenty minutes. “Girl, get over here before I whoop your ass,” he called to me, loud enough that a couple of other students turned around. I dropped my tray next to his with a clatter. “You’re so extra, I swear.”

The village head, an old alpha with scars mapping his entire face, bellows into the primitive sound-caster, announcing the start of the ritual. Darius’s pack goes first. Nyra steps onto the stage in ornate, ceremonial silks. She dances with a practiced, feline elegance—everything is precise, calculated, and entirely soulless. The elders clap, but it’s polite. The air feels thin, dead. Then, it’s our turn. "Dance until your lungs burn," I command my pack-mates.

If I stay home I won't stop thinking about everything and that will only keep messing with my head. “Ugh I hate this feeling.” I grumbled. By nine, I was squeezed into a short black dress that Hannah swore was “sophisticated but dangerous.” The club pulsed with music that almost gave me a headache, lights flashing, people pressed together in sweaty bliss. My friends disappeared quickly, swept into the crowd, leaving me clutching a drink at the edge of the dance floor. That’s when I saw him. Daniel. From accounting. I didn't expect to see him here. He seemed like the nerdy type which was cute, but hot? That is what Kennedy is.

The club was drowning in neon and bass. The air hung thick, laced with perfume, sweat, and the sharp sting of spilled liquor. Bodies melted together on the dance floor, moving in a hypnotic rhythm to the music's relentless thump, strobe lights slicing through the darkness like electric knives. Nia stood alone in the center of it all, swaying her hips, eyes half-lidded, surrendering to the beat that pulled her under. She was twenty-eight, full-figured, and undeniably beautiful.

“You don’t think it’s weird that we’re literally in the same club?” Adrian ignored me, watching Dante wave a hand toward a dancer approaching the edge of the stage. My phone pinged again. Dante: I sent someone your way. I thought Adrian could use some entertainment. And hope you enjoy the distraction. Distraction? I looked up. A dancer in glittering lingerie moved toward Adrian. Her eyes were locked on him. She stopped right in front of him, smiling like she already owned his soul. “You’re Adrian, right?” she said, smiling.

That number lived in my head rent-free, pacing circles and knocking things over. Dancing at Neon Blood paid better than the diner. Pole work paid even better. And tonight was my first time on the main stage. I was going to throw up. Possibly on someone. Possibly on purpose. “You’re overthinking it,” Nyx said, bumping her shoulder into mine. “You’re just dancing. Clothes stay on. You’re not stripping. You’re a dancer. Say it.” “I’m a dancer.” “Louder. With your chest.” “I’m a dancer who is probably going to fall off the pole and die in front of strangers while wearing shorts that cost more than my dignity.”