All Over Again || Rucas

Nice pijamas

Riley's POV

I try to fall asleep. Something like that seems impossible right now.

I think about Charlie, Lucas, Maya, everyone. I think about Josh, lying on the couch, believing that I don't know he's texting Maya.

I hear a tap at my window. I get up and face a very familiar boy.

"Lucas.", I say and open the window.

"Hey princess.", he says.

"So what brings you to my poor home, mr. Friar?", I joke

I stand back and wait for him to come in, but he never does. He stands there, serious.

"Charlie acted like an asshole tonight.", he says.

His arms are crossed and under the moonlight, I must admit, he looks deadly.

"So I've heard.", I reply frowning.

"I need to teach you how to dance.", he says.

I don't understand how that has anything to do with Charlie but I blush in the memory of me, trying to dance in the Gym, yesterday.

It was yesterday, wasn't it?

"I am making it.", I say.

He smiles.

"Liar."

I can't help but laugh because he is so right.

"Okay, I'm not a good dancer. I'm not coming to the prom anyway.", I admit.

"Oh yes you are.", he says. "I'm taking you."

My heart flatters a little.

"Lucas--"

"Follow me.", he says and turns around.

I'm thinking that I can't. I'm in my black and white pijamas and I'm wearing white socks.

I'm thinking that I want to. I grab some shoes and follow the boy.

He leads us to a house close to mine. He has keys to open the door.

I frown at him.

"My aunt's. She's in Texas right now."

I nod.

The house is dark but he turns on the lights. The first room I see is big and empty. The wooden floor is clean but the house looks abandoned. There's a radio in the one corner of the room.

And the puzzle pieces come together.

"Friar...", I hiss "You are NOT teaching me how to dance in the middle of the night. Tomorrow, okay?"

Lucas has the nerve to laugh. He turns on the radio and puts a CD in. My ears hurt as I listen to the same melody I listened in the Gym.

"Wrap your hands around my neck.", Lucas demands.

"Yes, sir", I say, full of sarcasm.

But I do as he says.

My skin seems to get burn by the touch.

"Do you remember the routine? Even a little?", he asks gently.

I try to remember.

Two steps to the left. That's all I can remember. I tell Lucas and he smiles at me.

He waits for the right moment and he puts his hands gently on my waist. He starts dancing and I follow. Now and then he'll make some corrections or laugh with my mistakes. But I must admits; his hands make it easier for me to move to the right directions. He leads me.