Eleven
“Lance, you HATE dancing,” JC protested as they entered the club.
“What IS all this?”
“Maybe I want to change. Maybe I WANT to dance. Is that a crime?”
“No, except you can’t really dance,” JC teased.
“Thanks a lot, JC,” Lance said angrily. “Now you know why I never want to dance with you.”
“Lance, what are you trying to prove? AJ and Justin aren’t even
here.”
“AJ’s being a dick. And
Justin…” Lance paused, confused. Why DID he care what Justin thought? “I don’t
give two shits about Justin.” Lance
pulled off the button-down shirt he wore and threw it in a corner. He headed
for the dance floor in his wifebeater and khakis.
“What the hell?” JC said to himself. He went to the bar and got
himself a drink, watching in shock as Lance wedged himself between two hot
guys, grinding himself against them.
“Hey, JC,” Chris Kirkpatrick said, walking over. “Looks like your
boy’s out there getting crazy.”
“Yeah,” JC said. He sighed, suddenly feeling very old. “I don’t
know WHAT his problem is. He lets what other people say about him really hurt
him.”
“I learned to deal with that a long time ago, but it’s hard,”
Chris said. “It’s hard to be yourself. But I see you don’t have much of a
problem with that.”
“If people can’t accept me, screw them,” JC said.
“Exactly,” Chris agreed, clinking his glass against JC’s. JC drank deeply, nervous as always around
his professor. “So…you don’t care that he’s out there, doing that?”
“I worry about him. He’s NEVER like this,” JC said. “But he’s not
a kid, really. He can do what he wants.”
“Wow…I don’t know if I could have a relationship like that,” Chris
said softly. “I mean, just letting him go off and dance that way. I would be insanely jealous.”
“Well, I DO dance better than he does,” JC said with a grin. “So
I’m not TOO jealous. And, I mean, we’re
friends. I can only tell him so much.”
“Friends?” Chris asked, staring at JC.
“Yeah…we’ve been friends for a few years now. Why?”
“ONLY friends?”
“Uh, yeah,” JC said slowly, forgetting to be nervous for
once. “Why?”
Chris laughed, slamming his drink down on the bar. “God, JC, I
thought Lance was your boyfriend.”
“My WHAT?” JC asked. “I don’t have a boyfriend!”
“Well, I saw you hug him once, and that day when that jock was
giving you a hard time, I just thought…” Chris shook his head. “Obviously I
thought wrong.”
“You look relieved,” JC said before he thought. He saw Chris blush
in the flashing lights of the club.
“I, well…yeah. I mean, it’s terrible to have a…well…CRUSH…on
someone when you think they’re involved with someone else.”
“Crush. On Lance?” JC
asked softly.
“No…on you.”
“But you’re my teacher. And…you’re…well…you’re YOU,” JC babbled.
“Yes, I am your teacher. That makes it kinda difficult. But being
me…that’s nothing exciting.”
“I think it is,” JC said shyly.
He and Chris stared at each other for a long moment. “And you won’t be
my teacher FOREVER.”
“Unless I flunk you,” Chris said with a grin. “But that won’t happen.”
“Is there rules against this kinda thing?” JC asked, his heart
pounding in his ears.
“It’s frowned upon, yes…but it’s not like we’d flaunt anything
anyway,” Chris said. “Would you like to
go get something to eat?”
“I shouldn’t leave Lance,” JC said, looking at the dance floor.
“He’s acting so strange tonight.”
“Bring him along. He can chaperone.”
“Do I need a chaperone?” JC asked innocently. Chris simply
grinned, and JC hurried onto the dance floor to grab Lance.
