• If you have not, please go back and read pt.5

    Camille: I am going to be Bobby's partner for a whole nine weeks?
    Mrs. Kingsmore: Yes. Is that a problem?

    I feel lightheaded all of a sudden.

    Mrs. Kingsmore: Miss Waters?
    Camille: I think I am going to be sick.
    -runs out and into the restroom-

    No, no, no...
    This can not be happening to me!

    -goes into stall and sits on the toilet-

    ...you will be Mister Smith's partner for nine weeks...
    No, no..I can't be his partner.
    Dammit!
    -punches wall-
    Okay. Remind me to never, ever do that again.

    Camille?
    Camille: Yeah?
    Are you alright? Mrs. Kingsmore sent me in to see if you are okay.

    No, I am not alright if I am going to be with him

    Camille: Yeah, I am fine. I just, uh, got a little nauseated from skipping
    lunch. That's all.
    -stands and opens door-
    Camille: see? I'm fine. Now, if you will just allow me
    to wash up, I'll be back in a bit.
    Alright.
    -turns and heads out-
    Camille: Mirror, mirror on the wall.
    Please let this be okay.
    -splashes water on face-
    Geez...
    -sigh-
    I guess I can do it.
    I mean, I need the A.
    -dries off and straightens shirt-

    If I just go in and do what she instructs us to do...
    I'll get by just fine.
    Truth: I'm just scared of old feelings resurfacing.
    I mean, what would you, guys do in a rut like this?
    -leaves restroom, stands in front of glass window of classroom-
    I watch as Bobby stretches.
    Wow, he has a very nice, toned back.
    I never really noticed how elegant and flexible he was before.
    Honestly, I never paid attention to his physical self, outside of
    football. He's not so big...he's almost on the flimsy side..just
    with a toned body.
    -opens door-

    Mrs. Kingsmore: Miss Waters, are you alright?
    -she touches Camille's forehead-
    Mrs. Kingsmore: Well, you are not running a fever. That's good.
    Miss Johnson informed me you were nauseated from having
    skipped lunch. Is that true?
    Camille: Yes ma'am. I didn't eat because I was a bit distracted.

    I sneak a peek at Bobby. He's standing there, looking at me.

    Mrs. Kingsmore: Alright, in that case, please go stand next to
    your partner and start stretching. Oh, and please remember to
    eat before this class.
    Camille: Yes ma'am.

    Drats. I should have told her I threw up so I can sit in the infirmary for
    the remainder of the class. Being anywhere right now, will be better.
    -stands never Bobby-

    Bobby: Hey
    Camille: Hey
    Bobby: You don't have to be my partner, Camille.
    Camille: Yes, I do. There is not another guy who is a single.
    I guess I am stuck with you.
    -looks at Bobby, whose face is full of frowns-
    Camille: Well, uh, even if I could change, I wouldn't.
    Bobby: Okay; But why did you run out?

    Because I didn't want to be partnered with you.

    Camille: I just got a little sick from not eating lunch, is all.
    Bobby: That would be my fault.

    Yes.

    Camille: No. It was mine, but I am fine, now.
    -smiles-
    Bobby: Yeah, ok.
    Whoa, what's gotten into him? He's never been this way before.
    Did I really hurt him from earlier?

    Camille: What's wrong?
    Bobby: Nothing.

    He bends down and rubs his calves...pulls back and repeats the motion.
    After watching for about a minute, I join him...I guess that conversation is over.

    Mrs. Kingsmore: Alright, guys. Let's gather around in the middle of
    the floor and go over some rules.

    Bobby walks to the front, taking a seat, as I stand, dumbfounded. He always
    waits until I'm seated before he takes his own beside me. Wait a second,
    why do I care? We're over. Finished. Finis. Done.
    -takes a seat behind a red haired girl, far from Bobby-

    I can't help but watch him as Mrs. Kingsmore goes over the rules. Bobby's
    actually paying attention, for once. Good for him.
    I sit quietly as she describes the attire the girls have to wear during this
    class: Hair tightly secured in a bun, off the face and neck, tight-fitting tank and
    shorts(which she will supply), no jewelry, yada yada yada.
    Guys will wear a simple white shirt and black shorts.
    And because this is a dance class, we will be competing every other Thursday
    and Saturday, starting in two weeks. Just great...

    Mrs. Kingsmore: And most of all, I want you all to have fun.
    -glances at Bobby-

    I have never seen him so quiet. Everyone else is talking to one another
    and he's staring out the window. Ugh, why do I feel like this is my fault?
    -stands and sits next to him-

    Bobby: -sigh-

    Just talk to him

    Camille: So, are you ready for this class?
    Bobby: I guess so.
    Camille: Are you nervous?
    Bobby: Why would I be?

    Uhm...

    Camille: I don't know.

    I look at his face as he answers me. Although he's still staring out the window,
    I can feel the sadness in his eyes.

    Bobby: Well?

    Oh

    Camille: Never mind.

    He turns and faces me, cold, blue eyes emerging with my brown.

    Bobby: Are you nervous, Camille?
    Camille: Yeah. A little. But I've danced before. It should be a piece of cake.

    He's still staring at me.
    Okay, so...Bobby's acting very weird. What do I do?

    Camille: So..

    I have never been at a loss of words when talking with Bobby. Why, now?

    Bobby: Yes, you are.
    Camille: Huh?
    Bobby: You are nervous, Camille.

    It's like he can read me.

    Camille: What makes you say that?
    Bobby: Camille, you're just scared of us being close to each other.

    How did he know that?

    Bobby: You don't want it to happen. You don't want old feelings to resurface,
    seeing that being close is how we first started dating. I understand, Camille.

    Someone please tell me why I am shaking?

    Camille: Bobby, I..
    -puts finger to Camille's lips-
    Bobby: Shush. It's okay...it's okay.

    Uh, help?

    To be continued...