Please look to the first chapter for disclaimer. It's there, so don't hurt me.
Notes: Many people thing that Sakura being a belly-dancers is a large, important, plot-making thing. It's not. Should I say that? Meh, who cares? So, darlings, thanks for all and I hope you enjoy this.
This story has already been pre-prepared for your enjoyment. Please tell the chef, who is a desperate try-hard and loves attention, what you think. Thank you.
Dedicated to: This for is for everyone who reviewed the first chapter, words cannot describe how much I really appreciate it. Also to Zenin, who beta-ed this and made it sound super-fantastico. Go read her stories after you've read and reviewed this, she rocks the house. Watch out for her latest story, 'A Solemn Vow', it's gonna kick some serious ass.
I Dare You to Dance
Chapter Two: Sharing the Pizza.
By Emmy
--*--
Sakura was beginning to believe it was either insane or illegal to have a roommate nowadays. She'd received a few interesting replies to her ad – most of them turning out to be people who were looking for 'a place to stay for a few days' or a place where they could run their "business" from. Sakura had politely shut the door on four people, all of whom who were far too dodgy…even for a place like the apartment building in which she resided. But Sakura did have one last hope, and a twenty-one year old man was the profile of her saviour.
Sakura smoothed out her dark jeans and rolled the sleeves of her dark blue jumper up to her elbows; trying to look as professional, yet nice as possible. After all, this could be her future roommate (and it was best to save the towelled, face-masked look for later). She pottered round in the kitchen, glancing at her watch every so often. She placed some biscuits on a plate and filled two large glasses of water, which she then took to her coffee table. Sakura looked around for a minute, before throwing a large, black blanket onto her couch to cover the few stains there were.
'Perfect.'
The doorbell rang its annoying jangle, announcing the arrival of her prospective roommate. Sakura spun away from straitening the couch and ran lightly to the door, plastering a big, friendly smile on her face the moment she opened it.
"Hi, I'm Syaoran Li. Are you the woman who's looking for a roommate?"
Her smile faded and a sense of disbelief rolled over her. Of all the people… She stepped to the side and opened the door wider, forcing her smile back on her face. "Yes, I am. Please come in."
Her shock was quickly wearing off. She was adapting to the idea. After all, revenge was a good idea to adapt to. Let him call me a worthless belly dancer after this!
Sakura led Syaoran to the couch, acting the part of a gracious hostess. "So, Syaoran, is it? Make yourself comfortable. Would you like a cookie?"
He picked up a chocolate biscuit and looked around carefully. "So, Miss…?"
Sakura interrupted, knowing he was searching for her name, "Kinomoto. Sakura Kinomoto. But you can call me Sakura."
He froze, clearly startled. Slowly, his eyes slid up to her face uneasily. He knew who she was. "It's a nice apartment," he said quickly. "Quite a find in a city like this."
Sakura laughed a little, mostly at his reaction and some at his witty line. "Yes, it is!" she allowed, grinning at his discomfort. "But I'd better get down to business. How long do you think you'll be here?"
He took a bite of the biscuit, chewed for a bit, and swallowed. He still looked slightly uncomfortable. "Until you ask me to leave, I guess."
Sakura crossed her legs casually, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. "You'll be paying half of the rent and utilities, which on average is about seven-hundred a month. Sometimes it can be a thousand. It's a pretty expensive place to live, isn't it?"
He nodded stiffly, not meeting her eyes. Sakura continued, full steam. "What kind of job do you have, Syaoran?"
Syaoran took a sip of water. "I'm a writer for a big newspaper, and I am paid about two-hundred and fifty a week. I also have a part-time job at a Dance Academy, on the other side of town, for one hundred a week. I'm an office boy there."
Sakura looked at him curiously. "But you make quite a bit a week. What's with the part-time?"
He shrugged. "I know the guy who owns it. It's more of a favour than anything else, anyway."
Sakura smiled a bit. "How kind of you." She took a deep breath and announced, "I'm an entertainer at one of the Arabian places in the city: Little Arabia. Have you heard of it?"
Syaoran's eyes flickered for a minute, mid-gulp of his water, and Sakura could feel her inner-devil cackling madly. Took him long enough!
He finished swallowing. "I think I might have heard of it." He gave her a careful sidelong glance. "I must say, you look very different from when you're…um…dressed up – "
"I should hope so," Sakura interrupted, feeling suddenly angry. "It's only a costume! It's not like I have a choice about wearing it."
He remained silent, gazing at her contemplatively. Sakura continued, ignoring his stare. "Anyway, I get paid two hundred a week – the place isn't very popular." She frowned, sneaking a peek at the reporter's face as she continued her act. "I can't understand why! People are always trying to discredit it, but it's really a lovely little place! Anyway, I apologize for the ramble…"
She stood up abruptly and grabbed a calculator off the kitchen table. She looked over at Syaoran and smiled openly. "I'm not very good with numbers."
She began typing in numbers. "I sometimes collect eighty a week in tips. So, together we make two thousand, one hundred and twenty a month. Say the bill reaches one thousand a month, plus two hundred for groceries, and then we pay that and keep what we have put in."
Syaoran nodded calmly, toeing the line because he knew that she knew his identity – which made Sakura very happy. "So, we have a deal?"
Sakura smiled stiffly and held out her hand. "As long as there are no more nasty reviews about my work outfit, then we do."
Syaoran laughed uncomfortably and shook her hand. "Sure. When should I move in?"
"Whenever," Sakura replied, standing. "Just give me a call the morning before you decide to show up."
Syaoran got to his feet. He towered over her easily. "Tomorrow's good then? My things are all packed."
She handed him a house key and pushed him out the door, closing the door behind him. She heard a startled laugh from the hallway, and his footsteps receding down the hallway. When she was sure that he was gone, Sakura sank down against the door; wondering what her little expedition would turn out to be. Was having a boarder a good idea or not?
Sakura sighed. 'Too bad he's such a bastard in his reviews. He's really very cute."
And cute he was! His body was tan, lithe, well toned… Sakura gave a small, wistful smile. The reporter – who had once been so nasty – not only dressed well, but had the prettiest of eyes: all chocolaty and expressive.
Sakura stood up quickly. I'm going to need a walk.
-*-
Sakura heard a sharp knock at eleven o'clock in the morning and remembered that Syaoran was moving in today. She had pulled on a pair of jeans and an old shirt and pulled her hair back in a bandanna an hour ago, waking up a little later then usual. That walk she had taken had ended up at Natasha's place, watching some DVD's from Tasha's extensive collection until one in the morning, eating popcorn and drinking some wine…and then Jake had rolled up. Sakura had left quickly, not wanting to be privy to domestic fighting. She felt sorry for her best friend – oftimes offering up the spare room in her apartment whenever Natasha needed it. A rush of guilt swamped her as she remembered that she never told Natasha that she was getting a roommate.
Sakura stood up, still deeply lost in thought and opened the door. Syaoran was standing there, leaning against the wall with a suitcase next to him, looking for all the world like a bonified god. Sakura wanted to rip the bandanna from her head and throw it on the ground, she felt like such an idiot. There she was, looking all rag-tag and mussed…and he looked so perfect in his casual outfit of jeans and a green polo. He brushed his tousled hair from his eyes, smiling slightly at her startled expression.
"Sorry, is this too early?"
Sakura shook her head, looking away quickly to hide her blush. "No. But you did forget to call, I believe. Today is going to be a big day. The whole moving thing takes a long time."
He stepped in, brushing past her…intentionally, she thought. "So, I'm sleeping in that room?" he queried, gesturing towards her bedroom door. Sakura's face, if possible, became ever more red.
"Oh, no! That's my room. But…um…you can sleep in the other room!"
He was laughing, clearly amused by her reaction. "I suppose I can. Hopefully."
Sakura walked briskly over to the other room and opened the door. Syaoran picked up his suitcase and followed her inside. The floor was dark wood and the walls were a dark-ish green. There were two large windows on the right wall that looked out to the road below and into the other apartment building's windows. The room was dark, a little dusty, but liveable. Sakura leaned against the doorframe and spoke up.
"Sorry about the room being so dark. I didn't have enough money when I first moved in to paint it a brighter colour." She shrugged. "I never use it, and so I guess I kind of forgot about it." She pointed to a door on the left wall. "Adjoining bathroom."
He nodded and set down his suitcase. "Thank God for large elevators."
Sakura laughed and stepped away. "Let's go get your stuff. How much is there?"
He seemed entranced by the floor. "About ten boxes worth, also an arm chair, a double bed, a bedside table and a wardrobe."
Sakura whistled. "That's not very much!"
He shook his head. "My last apartment was small."
Sakura and Syaoran spent the rest of day chattering in between moving boxes and large bits of furniture. Sakura realized just how nice Syaoran really was. He was just paid to be mean – as he explained to her later, "The readers like it when I act like a bastard."
They split the bill for pizza and ate in comfortable silence.
-*-
A week later Sakura was fiddling around at home with her wallet, which surprisingly had some money in it. She thought back to a day ago when a man who owned a Spanish restaurant said he could pay her more then what she made if she came and danced in his restaurant. All she needed to do was the learn how to do salsa. The Salsa – if Sakura knew rightly – was a very complicated, sexy dance. But she had at least three hundred extra dollars…she could pay for some lessons! Sakura grew excited with the idea, she was already wearing a white, floaty skirt and her top was black. She'd look elegant in the very least.
Sakura jumped up, grabbed her key, locked the door and raced downstairs. She hailed a cab and said the first address that came to mind. "Pearl's Dance Academy."
Sakura paid the fifteen-dollar fine and jumped out and came face to face with a beautiful big building with a large sign. She walked in the elegant wooden doors and walked towards the reception. She talked to a girl and arranged for the intense, two-week salsa lessons. Sakura was sure she could handle it. Her first lesson was in twenty minutes – the girl just had to inform the teacher, Lisa, that there was a new arrival. Sakura sat in a chair, awaiting her class with a little fear.
-*Syaoran*-
Syaoran was wandering down the halls of the dance academy (affectionately known as "Pearls" to the teachers, office people and older students) where he worked part-time. An elegant, lithe woman with her dark hair pulled up into a tight bun almost bumped into him. She looked up and her eyes widened as if she'd just seen a miracle. The woman grabbed his shoulders.
"Syaoran, darling! You have to help me! I just got a new student in my class. I like to keep the lady-man ratio even but this has just thrown it all out! We had two extra places and that silly office girl – I must have told her a million times to try and keep the numbers even! – added a new girl. You have to come dance in the class. I'll get Tom to add an extra fifty to your pay and you can do the class for free…" The ever-dramatic Lisa clasped her hands as if in prayer. "Please…please…Syaoran. You'll help me out, won't you?"
Syaoran was a sucker for puppy-eyes. He raised his hands helplessly, smiling. "Alright, Lisa. I'll do it."
Lisa threw her arms around Syaoran and gave him a tight hug. "Oh, thank you, Syaoran!" Grabbing his wrist, she began dragging him away. "The class is starting now. We have to hurry!"
Syaoran allowed himself to be dragged away towards the dance studio.
--*--
Thanks for all your reviews! I had no idea it would be so well-received. You all rock! I try as hard as I can to take constructive criticism, but I am a soppy, weak writer. So, be gentle? Next chapter in five days, I promise!!
Also to a certain reviewer: I know this isn't the most original of stories but hey, there has to be at least 10 thousand stories on ff.net, it's really hard to strive for originality but I do try. I'm not mad or anything, in fact, I appreciate your honesty.
Darling Zenin: Please reply to my email or notify me that you got it. MWAH thanks Hun.
