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A Society of Traitors

Page 386

by Maezos

Relieved, and as quietly as possible, I exhaled, because I didn't feel the shockwave I had expected.

“Please come here, both of you,” the woman said sternly, as if we had done just about everything wrong that could be done wrong.

Olivia squeezed my hand, and I remembered that I was dancing with someone who had been on all kinds of stages across the States.

If so, then I had done everything wrong.

My gaze wandered down to the huge gym, where a few girls were practicing cheerleading right below us, including Vivienna and her friends.

Vivienna had given me a rather skeptical look when she had found out that I was dancing and had whispered to Amber, but thanks to the panoramic glass pane that separated us from the rest of the hall, I hadn't heard anything.

Only the shrill sound of a whistle snapped me out of my reverie and caused me to stare at the lower half of the gym, where a burly, bald African American coach was putting the basketball team through their paces.

“I haven't had anyone like you two at Vanderwood in years,” the woman praised, and Olivia smiled proudly.

I would have liked to smile back and thank her for the compliment, but I was hit hard by the visible reminder that Emely was part of the women's basketball team.

Everywhere – Epic Trailer Version

Hidden Citizens, Adam Christopher

“When you said you already have experience, I was expecting something more like a beginner’s or intermediate course. Not such an impressive performance.”

Emely was wearing white basketball shorts, but that wasn’t what caught my attention. I didn’t know why I suddenly noticed it, but I had never seen her in sportswear before. And never off-the-shoulder, except for the black winter ball dress.

She jogged at the front, the number three on her back, and I enjoyed the seconds when she hadn't spotted me yet, when I could take in her graceful body.

It was as if I could feel her warm, soft skin beneath my fingers. As if an essence of her had been immortalized in my fingertips on the evening of the winter ball.

“Oh, yes. I danced for a while at the Joyce Theater in New York.”

I had managed not to stare at her for two days and fifteen hours, not to seek her gaze, and now I was standing here with the best view of her and couldn't think of anything else but the moment she would finally turn to me.

On the one hand, I wanted to just keep staring at her, searching for anything unusual, like how she tightened her ponytail after every lap, which held her elegant, almost straight long waves in check.

Oh how I would love to run my fingers through it... just once.

Was her hair as soft as her skin?

Goosebumps overcame my entire body.

“For competitions?”

It was only recently that I had noticed how aesthetically straight her nose was, or that she always had to brush that one unruly strand behind her ear. A detail that gave her a subtle yet memorable elegance.

“No, regular. Permanent position.”

The coach had the young women line up in a row so that they were facing the other half of the hall, directly opposite our half.

“Girl, I’m impressed!”

My heart made a strangely pleasant leap, and the now familiar tingling sensation fluttered through my stomach and settled there.

“What is a talent like you doing here at Vanderwood?”

She looked up. At me. And her carefree expression disappeared instantly.

I should have looked away, tried to concentrate on the conversation with the coach, but I failed.