Benefits of Doubt
"5, 6, 7, 8..." Counting off with snaps of his fingers, Ryan launched into his routine for the eighth time that evening. Sitting over in the back corner with a text book in my lap, my eyes were finding it next to impossible to study. I had known this would happen. Even though I'd only agreed to hang out with him if we each set aside some time to work on our school assignments, the likes of which were piling up quickly with the approach of the semester's end. But somewhere in my heart there had been a faint calling for reason even while packing my bag with school books for the subway ride to Julliard.
'You're going to go to his dorm house and try to get work done? You can barely think at all when he's around, how are you going to concentrate on Accounting if he's shaking his ass right in front of you?'
Stupidly, I actually gave myself the benefit of the doubt and rushed out the door anyway, doing everything I could not to grin like an idiot out of excitement on my way down the street. Finals were creeping up on me, group projects needed attention and the new cheer routines were kicking my ass. And yet I was still finding any excuse just to be in the same room as Ryan. Behold the power of hormones.
Giving in once again, I stopped even trying to pry my gaze away from him and leaned my head back against the wall as I watched. It was beautiful, what he could do with his body. The twists and turns, his perfect sync with the beat of whatever was coming out of the studio's stereo speakers, the pacified calm that stayed on his face throughout the routine despite the sweat rolling down his forehead and neck. What was even more incredible was that the sequence of moves had been his own original creation, an assignment for his Choreography 101 class. I personally felt that if he didn't get an A+ it would be an utter failure of the educational system.
As my gaze stayed on his body, my mind traveled with the sparks of inspiration that always seemed to flow up from the depths of my psyche whenever I absorbed any form of art from Ryan. Watching him dance in the studio, feeling his emotions emanate off a stage, glancing over his sketches, listening to him sing. The singing was usually what got me in trouble as I'd been addicted to his voice from the moment we'd met and getting to know him had only made me appreciate the sound so much more.
The music faded and his feet came to rest, lungs heaving for breath as he paused in the middle of the hardwood floor to try and recoup for a moment. As he turned and walked back towards me and his duffel bag, obviously in desperate need of some water, I watched him with a question bouncing hesitantly on my tongue before finally getting up the courage to articulate itself.
"You want to be on Broadway, right?" Looking up at him, I felt like a child. All big, wondering eyes and naivety to the world of theatre as he continued to pant, staring at me over his water bottle for a moment before answering.
"That's the plan." He nodded, agreeing with my general consensus, probably confused as to where I was going with it.
"Well…do you have any other plans?"
"Like what?" He looked utterly lost, which was understandable. Ryan's entire life had revolved around the stage the same way mine had revolved around getting into an Ivy League school. The idea of giving up our goals so late in the game was just laughable. But I couldn't help but wonder…
"Well, I dunno…have you ever thought of opening a dance studio? I mean you're already really good at eighteen, imagine your ability after graduating. People will be banging down the doors."
"I dunno about that,…" He chuckled bashfully, taking another swig of water. "Besides, no one wants to take lessons from someone who hasn't been there. After I've gotten some experience in professional theatre, then sure, I could open a studio."
"You mean, after you get famous?" I mocked him playfully with the incorporation of jazz hands around my last word. He just laughed again and shook his head.
"Yah, basically. Why not have the best of both worlds?"
"I dunno, I think people would be lining up to take lessons from you. Who cares if you're young? You've got really fresh ideas." I pressed on stubbornly. Was he really that oblivious to his own talent?
"This coming from a cheerleader. I don't know if I should feel honored or embarrassed." He teased me, putting on a dramatically worried face. Slumping my shoulders, I gave him an unamused look accompanied with the flicking of my middle finger in his direction.
"I'm kidding baby, I know cheering takes game. That, and I love telling people that my girlfriend can do splits and scorpions and spread eagles."
"It's moments like this when I have no doubts whatsoever about you being a guy."
"I'd be happy to erase those doubts for you anytime you want, just name the time and place." He smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. I couldn't help but smile back, my cheeks catching a light blush even though we were the only two people in the room.
"Ry…can I ask you a question?"
"Anything you want." He conceded, sitting down across from me on the floor as it became clear that neither of us were going to shut up anytime soon. I should have seen that coming, anytime either of us opened our mouths whatever we were doing would usually have to be put on hold for hours.
"When did you lose your virginity?"
A thoughtful expression crossed his face and he cocked his head to the side.
"Hmm…when did I do that? S'hard to remember sometimes, all the girls who want me kind of blur together after a while."
My eyes rolled heavenward before I snorted a giggle through my nose.
"You wish. Come on, everyone remembers their first time. I wanna know about yours."
"What makes you so sure I wasn't a virgin when we met?" He mused, a teasing sort of look on his face as he used that sensual, low voice of his against me once again. The blush on my face made a comeback as the memories of all the times we'd been together thus far surfaced in my mind and I tried desperately to think of a neat and tidy way of explaining myself.
"No freshman in college knows how to satisfy a woman unless he's had considerable practice." I told him, forcing my gaze never to waiver from his as I spoke.
"You never know." He leaned forward towards me with a delighted yet arrogant smirk, "Maybe God just made me that good."
"Fine," I turned my gaze back towards the text book in my lap, licking my finger before turning the page. "If it was that embarrassing of an experience, I won't make you talk about it.
"Are you sure it's something you really wanna know?" He asked, his tone much more serious this time but harboring a good deal of skepticism. As the words fell from his mouth, he crossed his legs at the ankles and leaned back, resting the palms of his hands behind him on the hard wood floor of the dance studio.
"I'm pretty sure that's why I asked, goofball. Can't be anything too crazy, right? I mean it's not like you were raped in jail or anything." I snickered, playfully looking him up and down as though the only reason this wasn't a legitimate concern was because flamboyance wasn't illegal.
"Alright, alright." He rolled his eyes, "You asked. This summer, right after graduation. I was still dating Kelsi and she was over at my house. We'd been rehearsing some stuff in my room, we were messing around, I started tickling her. One thing led to another…and, yah."
"Oh." He'd been right. I hadn't really wanted to know that. Stupid for not seeing it coming, I somehow hadn't expected him to tell me that Kelsi (the best friend who had followed him to New York and still looked at him with eyes that were enamored) had been his first. I certainly hadn't pictured it that way. In fact picturing them together at all was kind of gross…But then again, I was obviously a little bias.
Sighing, he ran a hand through his blonde hair as he rose from the floor.
"I knew you wouldn't like the answer."
"I'm still glad you told me." My voice was small, the words forced as he leaned down to put his water bottle away. At the time it was bordering on a lie, but I knew with time the sting would fade and eventually I would be grateful to have gotten to know a piece of him that intimate. And I also knew, I had to get out one last question if I didn't want the subject driving me to insanity that night after I left. "Was she any good?"
Suddenly, his breath was on my cheek as he crouched in front of me to cover my mouth with his. Our lips pushed and pulled against one another, the pressure making me dizzy for half a second. A warm hand came up to cover my cheek just as he was pulling away.
"Not as good as you. Nothing in my life has ever felt as good as you, in every way." Nuzzling his nose against mine, he kissed me one last time before getting up to practice some more.
*Thanks for the reviews! For the record, I think I'm pretty much in love with Lucas Grabeel lol. By the way, as far as the dance sequence Ryan made up, I saw a lot of 'I Don't Dance', so if you watch the rehearsal videos for that at youtube, you can def get a feel for what Kate was watching. Happy reading! :D