Fall From Grace (7 page)

Sitting back at the table, I'm grateful that Gabs was caught up in this months' Glamour and missed the whole show. I sneak a peek back his way as he grabs his bar and leaves the lunchroom. I smile a little to myself and start to replay the dialog in my head. Perhaps this new guy isn't such a bad idea after all. Whoops, here comes reality making a timely appearance. I spot Francine staring at me, no scratch that, glaring at me like she wants to peck my eyes out with her No.2 pencil. I guess she didn't take too kindly to me chatting it up with her new conquest.

I give her a half smile; prove I am not going to be a threat. She smiles back with a forced grin, not sure she's buying it. Balls.
 

GABS

"Alright everyone, GREAT job tonight. I mean it, you're really mastering the 'Cross Body technique'. I love it!" I say, congratulating my beginner Salsa class. I make my way through the group to the stereo as they prepare to pack it in for the night.

"Great progress Peter and Margie, you guys are doing really awesome, although you really have to keep your hands on her back Peter, not any lower," I say with a wink and a smile even though his pervi-ness creeps me out.
 

He sheepishly holds his hands up with a grin and a shrug as if he's powerless over his charm. Yeesh. Hazards of the job teaching sexy dances to middle agers who mostly have good intentions. I say mostly for the women who love to feel sexy and have a good time. They are typically so enthusiastic and excited to be here. It's the dudes who mostly have ulterior motives. Case and point with Handsy Pete.

I really do adore my job though. Latin dancing is so sensual and well, hot. When I hear the rhythm, it just feels like sex to me. I'm at complete and utter peace in the studio and on the dance floor. I've been dancing since I was four and it's never lost its' lustre.

I see Peter lingering over his gym bag and giving me the once over in the mirror. I suppose he needs a backup plan in case his efforts on Marg are wasted. I smile back and try not to crack a laugh - not in this lifetime bud.

Once the class filters out, I turn up the music and do a few songs on my own before I head out. It helps me relax and ease some stress and boy this week I need it.

I thought it was so great to have that new guy come to town. Maybe Stells would come back to earth and land that space ship her head has been flying lately. Not a chance, she's even worse then before. We've always been so close and these last few weeks' things are a little strained. Maybe it was my confrontation at Tonya's, I dunno. I know she's dying to leave this town, and I thought Mr. Lovely would be a good distraction. She's distracted alright.
 

I've always had a sixth sense about Stella. I just get her. I know what you're thinking. We've been best friends for like EVER and we know EVERYTHING about each other! Uh, no. Not the case actually, Stells and I never had that type of friendship. We never traded traveling pants for the summer, not even close. We're best friends, yes, but we also have a lot going on separately and I think it makes a friendship more meaningful when you aren't stuck to each other like glue. Don't get me wrong; I would do anything for her and her for me. We value each other's opinion even though we mostly don't share the same one. We love each other like sisters and I will kick the crap out of anyone who hurts her. But neither of us were that typical girlie girls who had sleep over's and played barbies.
 

I knew something was up when McBroody came to town. He's just so dark and well, broody. Completely good looking but just not my type. I like my guys a little more exotic and tattooless. Outwardly he acts very clever and charming knowing full well he's Gods' gift. But it's when he thinks no one is looking, that is when I see him for what he really is. I sense that all is not what it seems with him. It chills me to my bones.
 

It's like he's constantly playing a game, planning his next strategy for whatever he's plotting. There's something about him I can't put my finger on; he just seems sorta dangerous and to be honest it scares the Shit out of me.

She never admitted it, but the day he came to school was the day her bus ticket left town. It's like I'm talking to a brick wall when he enters a room. The lights are on but no one's home, ya know? I would never tell her this... well scratch that, I think I already did, but that is what friends are for right? He is SO not right for her. She's my best friend, I love her dearly, she's beautiful and amazing and all that, but he's out of her league and I know he's hiding something. He HAS to be. I can see through his façade and it just doesn't sit well with me.
 

At all.
 

It took me a few days to form this opinion and by then it was too late. I could tell she was smitten as a kitten and drooling over his every move.

I head to the change room to get out of my tight red sequinned dress and strappy heels and into comfy leggings and a long cosy sweater. Another bonus to being a dancer, the clothes are fan-frigin-tastic. John, my boss, has already left for the night so I mill about checking doors and turning out the lights. I throw my bag over my shoulder and head out the door and down the stairs. Ginger's is actually located right above my Mom's cafe; my parents own the building and lease the spot to John and Miriam. I need a ride home so I pop into the side door that connects The Grind to the steps up to the studio, and make my way to the back office.

Mom is immersed in some photography prints, the next installation I guess. An exciting new 'artiste', so my Mother would say.

"Hiya Mom, ready to go?"

"Yes sweetie, just give me a few minutes to finish up," she murmurs barely looking up from her task. I know that look; she's going to be at least a half an hour - great.

I head out to the tables and plop down on a big lounger by the front window. I heave a sigh and dig in my bag for my worn copy of Macbeth, better catch up on some English reading while I wait. As I settle into twisted tale of Macbeth, I'm distracted by a strange noise coming from across the square. Downtown is typically deserted on a Tuesday night; The Grind closes early and none of the shops are open either. The square should be dead empty by now.
 

The lights suddenly dim, as Mom starts her close. She must be nearly ready, nice, quicker then I thought. I turn back to the street to see if I can spy the commotion source. I have a good inconspicuous view from my now dark seat; the low lights give me a better view of the square. Peering past the fountain, I see a shadowed figure in the alley between Maggie's Ski Wear and the local Tourism Bureau. It takes me a few squinty minutes but I soon realize it's him. Asher Grey is just standing just over there, all by himself and acting really weird. What the hell is he doing?

His hands are the only part of him moving, hovering parallel to the ground. It looks like his hair is flying about and his coat is just lifting right up like he's in a weird cross breeze or one of those simulation tornado booths you see at the arcade. Well, that's odd. Peering so close to the glass I'm almost pressed against it, I'm mesmerized by his weirdness. I don't even hear my Mom approach me from behind.

"Whatcha looking at honey?" I jump out of my skin with a loud "SHIT" and knock my head against the glass. Opps, I said shit, she hates it when I curse. Double shit.

"Nice Gabriella. Would that be the language of a lady?"

Uh oh, she used my full name.
 

"Sorry Mom, you scared the Sh.., I mean, you took me by surprise. I was just looking, um... did you see that?" I spin back around pointing to the glass but he's gone. Did I imagine it?
 

"See what Gabby?" Mom leans forward and squints into the window. We check out the deserted square once more as Ash seems to have disappeared.

"Nothing I guess," I say, as I brush my hands through my hair.
 

"Let's go, you ready?" I say as I scoot off the lounger and towards the front door.

"Ohhh Gabby, wait until you see the next photo installation I have cooking. It is just magnificent darling... " And she's gone. When she gets into work stuff I know it is better to let her just rattle on until she's finished. I scan the street as she locks up behind me. I expected a breeze or something when we came out, but it's eerily calm. A shiver jumps down my spine that has nothing to do with the weather. I hustle mom quicker then normal to the car.

 
I know what I saw. I saw something I wasn't supposed to. Asher Grey is definitely hiding something. He's off his rocker, I'm sure of it. Stella just SUCKS at guys.

STELLA
     

Holy crap it's cold out. That's the problem with spring. Blazing hot during the day and freeze your knickers off at night. Slamming Murrie's door, I wrap my jacket tighter and pick up the pace towards The Grind. Gabs is meeting me for open mic night. Things have been so tense between us for the last little bit, I dunno, I guess I haven't been myself lately either.
 
I'm really looking forward to hanging out with her tonight. Being raunchy and making fun of all the patrons in order to feed our own insecurities.

I've had the flu or something for weeks now; feverish, sweaty, spacey, REALLY hungry - the symptoms don't add up on WebMD at all. It's been kicking my ass and I've only just started to feel a little better this week. Weird shit too, like my skin was all itchy but I had no rash. My hair was falling out in clumps in the shower, but then would feel fuller somehow. My hands would be red hot but I would be freezing and piling on layers of sweaters. Even my eye colour seems to have changed from blue to a brighter blue-y gold or something. I haven't been sleeping either and my dreams are just crazy and bizarre and needless to say, keeping me from my beauty rest. Gabby has tried way too hard to get me to shake it off which has given rise to the amount of tension between us. She thinks I'm just goo goo'ing the new guy and that I need to smarten up, but really as much as I think he's hot, he's out of my league and I've just felt like a pile garbage.

When I finally went to see Dr. Stevens he took one look at me and began to explain the birds and bees and how hormones change our appearance and sometimes it feels really strange and different, like we're actually sick but we're not. Blah Blah Blah, I'm not an idiot doc, it isn't hormones. I think. He humoured me, took my temp, said I was fine and sent me on my way. Failed health system once again.
 

A freezing gust of wind does a final whip up behind me and flicks my ponytail into the air as I jump inside the glass door. Spying Gabs in the coveted corner booth, I give a little wave and make my way through the crowd. Dude with incredible dreds is busy setting up his bongos in the corner by the window, oh Lord, this should be interesting. I make my way to the back and slide into the booth.

"Holy frick it's nippy out there!" I plunk down, keeping my jacket on, shivering out the chill and blowing on my ice cube fingers.

"Dude, I am just SWEATING. My advanced class was awesome tonight but Shit, I need to work out more. They were kicking my big ass to shreds," she admits.
 

"Really Gabs? You, out of shape? You are so in shape I feel I should slap you. Shut it sister," I tease, but would really slap her if she actually felt that way.
 

"Evening ladies. My name is Francine and it will be my
pleasure
to serve you tonight." Ah yes, of corse Francine is working tonight. I felt her cold presence immediately. At school she is a goddess, but in here Gabs surpasses in rank. Bosses daughter and all.
 

She's been extra bitchy since Asher came to town too; I still don't think she's fully accepted that I'm definitely no threat to her happy coupledom. The grapevine clearly states them as 'an item' so I played nice and haven't spoken to him since. Her blond hair is pulled back and up on top of her perfectly flawless face. Pretty good up-do but I could do better. She's sporting a lovely and almost see-through light pink t-shirt with the tightest red pants I have ever seen. I didn't stand a chance with Mr. new blood. No one did.

"Heellllooooo Fanny." Gabs can goad her without consequence. "We'd luuurrrve some hot chocolates pretty please," she says, batting her eyelashes. "Put it on my tab. Oh and don't forget the whipped cream!" Gabs hollers after her as she rolls her eyes and stomps into the kitchen.

"Oh and sprinkles too!" I belt out as I stand up to take off my coat, getting my temp to normal finally. It's a struggle tugging off my vintage army jacket, my shirt underneath is one of those loose flashdance-y type sweatshirts and my left arm is almost all the way out the top. I pull back the fabric and do a quick fix pulling the shirt back down over my leggings. I see a big blob of mud on my boots and lean awkwardly to the side to try and kick it off. I leave on my scarf and wrap it back around my neck while I sit back down.

"Are we settled there Lady, or do you need some assistance?"

"I'm good. So, what do you think of Mr. Bongos?" I say, gesturing towards the entertainment. Poor sucker is struggling up there, dropping his equipment and fumbling with the mic height. He looks like he's going to pass out from the pressure and he hasn't started playing yet. I'm sure he doesn't realize how little attention people pay to the talent.

"C'mon guy, bongos? Really? That was the instrument of choice when he decided to be a 'cool' musician? Where were his friends? His parents even? Like sorry son, this is so not going to get you a chick. I mean, save this poor boy from daily ridicule and humiliation!" Gabby is in a great mood, I breathe out the rest of any stress I might have had over tonight.