He started to laugh with such force that his whole body shook. I folded over into a backbend. From upside down I watched him stroke his stubbly face with one hand.

"Well that's very honest, now it's my turn. I don't care, you will listen, I don't care, and I'm not here to be liked." I kicked over and stared him straight in the eye. "Do the backbend walkover again. This time, don't rotate your hips to the side.

I did my best, but when I stood he was shaking his head. "Slowly lower," I did my best, but my arms faltered a little as I saw him approaching. His palm forced my back to arch more. I tried not to react to his touch but I felt my muscles tense. "Are you okay?" he seemed genuinely concerned.

"Fine," I muttered. I lectured myself quickly. Stop acting like the teenage girl you are, I told myself. As my muscles deflated and I held the pose he backed away. Sasha asked me to continue the kick over as slow as I could. I pushed with my toe, but nearly fell again as I felt his hands on my hips, forcing me to kick straight back.

"You need more conditioning. Pull ups, I'll be in my office."

I tried not to watch his butt as he walked away, but I'd be lying if I didn't say he looks good in his jeans. I hung momentarily on the bars trying to figure out what to do. I'd crushed on one of my teachers back in Arizona, tried to flirt with him a few times on dares, but it wasn't the same. With Sasha, he was allowed to touch me. Not inappropriately of course, but we could have physical contact. And after my severe case of strep throat in eighth grade where I watched nothing but BBC America, I'd been in love with British accents. If I wasn't very careful, I was going to make a big fool out of myself. Seventeen year old hormones don't know how to keep themselves in line if you can understand what I'm saying.

I ran to the showers at six, leaving Becca, Payson, and a few others who were staying late to finish up. I heard footsteps a few minutes after I turned off the shower. At least, I thought I heard footsteps, but then they were gone. I made a mental note to stop watching horror films. I was about to de-towel when I heard the footsteps again. I pulled the white cotton closer. Sasha appeared looking surprised to say the least.

"Oh, um," was all he managed to say.

"I have this family dinner thing to get ready for and I came in here to shower not that long ago. I'll just be a minute."

His lips were slightly parted. His forehead wrinkled as he lifted his eyebrows. "Yeah, I've got a thing too. I'm just going to," he stopped mid sentence and jerked his thumb in the direction of the door. I saw his baby blue eyes steal a last glance over his shoulder.

I was outside the banquet hall ten minutes early. My mother's eyes lit up as she saw me, probably thanking god that I was able to follow her simple instructions. The dress she picked out for me was boring. It was a flat plum color with one shoulder to cover any cleavage, and a hem that dropped just past my knees. My ankles were hurting from the day's work out and the last thing I wanted was to be wearing the stupid peep toes mom insisted would be simply adorable on me. Throw in a low ponytail, pearl earrings, and I was exactly the daughter my parents always wanted and that I sometimes was.

Olivia and I didn't have dates we had dances. Every one of my dad's fellow politicians had sons and my mother took great liberty in saying, "Oh she would love to dance with him," as many times as possible after dinner. I had finally gotten a cute one to ask permission to dance with me. It was very exciting until he thought that my accepting meant he could put his hand on my ass as we danced.

I forced myself to look away from him because if not, I was going to gag. He looked at me with a lust that only teenage boys know how to flaunt so openly. I did my best to be a good daughter, pulling his hand up every few steps and smiling sweetly at my parents from the dance floor. He pulled me tightly against his body.

"May I cut in?" a calm voice said from behind me. I froze instantly as Mark, or Luke, or whoever tried to keep dancing. He looked at me quizzically and just shrugged his shoulders.

Sasha slipped into my grasp and led me into the waltz once more. "One day and you've broken two rules."

I caught my mom's eye as she tried to figure out who I was dancing with. Sasha noticed her gaze and nodded to her. She smiled, nodded back, and then threw herself into a conversation with whoever was on her right.

"I'm not dating anyone and to be honest, your arrogant asshole self is the last thing I need after having my toes stepped on and my ass grabbed all night." I put the wall between us. I knew by his lack of words that I'd overstepped a bit and maybe even hurt him, but it was better this way.

It was nearly ten when I begged my mother to let me excuse myself. She'd let Olivia go a half hour before and I was tired having of creepy middle-aged men subtly hit on me. I hummed to myself as I walked slowly down the steps. I closed my eyes for one moment, lost in my own head, and then I could feel it. My foot came down on the step between the heel and the toe. My left knee buckled under my weight. I could feel my stomach dropping like I was on a roller coaster.

And then I just wasn't falling; I wasn't supporting my own weight. I could feel someone holding me up and I tried to stand quickly on my own.

"Hold on a minute, take your time," him again. When I finally stood, I turned to look up at Sasha. "That could have been a really nasty fall."

I nodded, looking down and inspecting my foot. "I suppose I should thank you." And for a second he smiled. I didn't thank him though because, well, that would have just been too easy.