Chapter 2 I would kill a man for a shower right now. Which I know sounds a bit dramatic, but thirty-six hours of cross-country driving squeezed into a two and a half day period-broken up by an overnight stay at a motel where the mattress doubled as a rock-is enough to make anyone dramatic. How did I end up here again? I shake my head, pushing the thought away, and refocusing on the airy, bright San Francisco dance studio I'm currently standing in, grounding myself with the reminder to stay present for the remainder of the class and act like the professional I am. As if on cue, my cat Harry mewls from his crate in the corner, where he's been unceremoniously posted for the duration of the lesson. He has not been shy about letting me know how much this displeases him. Make that the professional I know I can be. "Go ahead, Allegra." Cora, the dance instructor whose class I'm shadowing this evening, gives me a nudge. "You can take this part." "Thanks, Cora!" I reply brightly, trying to radiate positivity. We're fifty-five minutes into the hour-long lesson, and I'm going to take her asking me to lead the end-of-class stretching session as a sign that my orientation has gone well. Shadowing today's class was the last step before officially getting an offer to teach dance here, so I should be-am-super glad...but I'm sure I'll be even more so after I finally drive over to my new apartment, shower, and get some sleep. I can only hope that Fisher was telling the truth when he said my room came equipped with the world's most comfortable memory foam mattress. His words, not mine. I tighten the lilac scrunchie in my hair-which has been dry shampooed within an inch of its life-and smile at the line of expectant kiddos in front of me, peering up at me like I'm the oracle who holds the answers to all of life's biggest questions. "You guys did amazing today," I tell the group of chubby-cheeked, wide-eyed girls. "And now, we get to relax and stretch out, all while feeling really proud of ourselves and the hard work we've just done. So let's all get down on our mats and start with our legs wide, then we're going to raise one arm up to the sky and..." I go through the motions of taking the littles through a simple stretching routine, taking a moment between each stretch to compliment them on things they either did particularly well or looked insecure about. One girl, Paige, looked a bit downtrodden at the start of class, and confided to me that she was sad because her mommy was sick today, so I lavish extra praise on her. I'm pleased when her face lights up at the encouragement from my tired, unshowered self. Originally, I'd planned to get to San Francisco yesterday. Give myself a night to get situated in my new apartment, meet my new roommates, and get unpacked before heading to orientation for my new job this afternoon. An overturned semi truck a couple hours past Flagstaff yesterday forced me to get a room at that disgusting motel after sitting still on the highway for multiple hours. I barely slept and was on the road again long before the sun rose this morning, but endless construction put me hours behind where I wanted to be, again. It was to the point where I had to drive straight to my new job orientation without swinging by the apartment first-stopping at a Wendy's to change into my leotard and sweats in the bathroom and still barely making it through the door here on time, cat crate in hand. Classy? No. Necessary? Yes. "Okay, thank you all so much, my little dancing queens!" Cora calls, signaling the end of the class, and the girls all get to their feet and curtsy to us. I curtsy right back, which earns me a snort from Cora. "You did well today, Allegra," she tells me as the girls all run towards the cluster of chairs at the edge of the studio, where multiple moms and dads are already gathered. "Thank you; it was fun," I reply. "Needless to say, I'm going to tell Marsha you should officially get the job," Cora continues, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "The kids love you already." "I love them already." I smile as a mom picks her daughter up and pulls her into a huge hug, kissing her forehead-and then my smile immediately falls as I see Paige, arms crossed, standing alone as her classmates begin to file out of the studio, chattering excitedly. I look around to see if anyone is there to collect her, and don't see anyone. "Do the parents usually arrive promptly?" "Oh yeah," Cora says with a wave of her hand. "San Francisco traffic is brutal, so there's often a couple of parents running a few minutes late, but they get here." "Okay," I say with a nod, eyes still on Paige. I see there's a couple of other girls still waiting and relax some. "Remind me again, you graduated from South Georgia's dance program?" Cora asks as she begins spraying down the mats. I grab a bottle of cleaning solution to help her. "Uh, no. I went to USG, but I didn't graduate." She tilts her head curiously, her auburn braid falling to one side as she does so. "So, what, you..." "Dropped out of the course." I fill in the blanks, trying not to flinch at my own words. "And just moved out here." "Ah," she says, her expression morphing into one of understanding. "You moved out here to go pro, and you're hoping to work here until you find a gig that pays well enough to not have to teach anymore." She chuckles. "Join the club; this studio is full of us all in the same boat. Bold move to drop your program before completion, but you're right if you think having more professional experience on your record will help you book more jobs in the future." I wipe down the last mat. "Good to know," I say noncommittally. Because it's better that she thinks I had a plan in suddenly dropping out of USG-where I had a full dance scholarship-one month into fall semester of my junior year than what actually happened. Now if only I can get my mother to think the same, so she doesn't worry about me moving myself across the country out of the blue. I glance back at the door and see that another mom has come in. "Sorry I'm late," she calls as she takes the hands of the two girls waiting. "No problem at all," I say as I cross the room towards her. "Julia and Jasmine did great today." "Are you going to be our teacher again, Miss Ally?" Julia asks me with a big smile. Some of the littles had a hard time saying Allegra, so they've already dubbed me "Miss Ally," which I kind of love. "I sure hope so," I reply. Once I get the job offer, I should be teaching multiple contemporary, jazz, and acro classes each week, with students ranging from ages five to eleven. "Yay!" The girls cheer, and their mom thanks me as they leave. I got super lucky to find the job ad online the night I decided not to return to USG for the fall semester, and even luckier that they agreed to interview me remotely and watch video footage of me dancing instead of seeing it in person. "Do you know who's picking you up today, Paige?" I ask as I crouch down to eye level with the one remaining dance student. She sucks on her bottom lip. "My daddy, I think. He has a very busy job." "I'm sure he'll be here soon," I tell her. Class now ended ten minutes ago. Harry is going to give me the silent treatment, I am sure. "Hey," Cora says as she comes up to stand beside me. "I hate to do this on your first day, but I have an audition across town in half an hour. Would you be able to wait with Paige?" The child's sad blue eyes turn on me accusingly, and although I have a million places to be hours ago, the only thing that comes out of my mouth is, "Of course." Accompanied by a bright smile. Because the last thing I want is for Paige to feel like she's a burden to me because her dad's running late. "Thanks girl, I owe you one," Cora says as she shrugs on a velour zip-up hoodie, slings her dance bag over her shoulder, then ruffles Paige's hair. "See you, kiddo." "Bye Miss Cora," Paige replies flatly. I can tell it's really bothering her that she's the last one here, so I spend the next few minutes trying to cheer her up as we do some ridiculous dance moves together. When I finally see a smile from her, I fish my phone out of my dance bag. "Sorry, honey, I just need to send a quick message to my new roommate." I left Fisher a garbled voicemail on my way out of the Wendy's bathroom earlier, letting him know I was running late and would now be coming to the apartment-which is actually a fancy penthouse loft-after I was done with orientation. He texted me back a few minutes later, replying he was on his way into hockey practice right now, but that we'd connect later, and he was excited to see me. Which I'm sure wasn't exactly true-he was just saying it to be nice. Archibald Fisher presents himself like he's one of those rich, arrogant playboy-type of guys who doesn't give a damn about anyone or anything but himself, but the guy has a heart of gold buried underneath all that swagger. I've seen it firsthand. And though I don't know him super well, he's been way more of a friend to me than the people who used to call themselves my friends before everything that happened last spring. "What's a roommate, Miss Ally?" Paige peers up at me. I sit down next to her. "A roommate is someone you live with who's not part of your family. Like you share a house together, but you have your own room." "Oh! Like my Uncle Noah. He's twenty-two years old." She says this like being twenty-two makes a person an ancient, sage-like being. "That's very, very old," I agree, matching her solemn expression. "How old are you?" "Also very old-almost twenty-one." "Wow!" She exclaims. I laugh as I open my phone and find a new text from Fisher. Fisher Change of plans, we're headed out for the night for drinks. Come join us! We're at Mulligan's on York Street right now. Allegra Thanks for the offer, but I'm pretty beat. If it's okay, I'll swing by there and grab my keys from you so I can move in, and we can catch up later? Fisher Sounds good, but hurry if you can, not sure how long we'll be in one place tonight. I check the time. Paige's dad is almost twenty-five minutes late right now. Must be some traffic jam. "Hey, do you want to meet my cat?" I ask her, because Harry's mewling is getting more frequent, and at this point, I'm sure he's going to be pissed at me for days for making him wait in his crate so long. "Yes!" Paige cheers, just as the door flies open. I turn around to see an extremely attractive guy standing in the doorway. He's tall, dark, and handsome, with the telltale broad shoulders of an athlete. He's clad in gray sweats and has a baseball cap pulled low over his dark brown hair. He can't be too much older than me, and I assume he must be one of the other instructor's boyfriends. Lucky her, whoever she is. But then Paige sticks her lip out in a pout. "There you are!" she cries. My jaw drops. This stud is Paige's dad? The one who's kept her waiting...who's kept me waiting when I could already be home and showering and dreaming of a warm, cozy bed? I'm exhausted. I'm overwhelmed. I'm sure I smell bad. I'm in a new city I don't know, about to move in with new roommates I've never met. And right now, I'm almost unreasonably annoyed with this guy for making his little girl wait to the point where she was almost in tears. Which is probably the reason why, instead of saying "goodbye" and sending Paige on her way, I cross my arms and stare down Mr. Handsome, who's towering in the doorway. "Mr. Anderson, I'm not sure you're aware, but we have a policy for late pickups," I say, even though I have zero clue if there's any such policy. "If you could pick up more promptly next time, we'd really appreciate it," I add for good measure, my tone professional but cold as ice. Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!