Espion | Book One

Twenty Eight.

"Angela, feet! Feet!"

Kicking her leg high into the air, Angela pointed her foot as straight as she could. She stayed like that for a few more seconds, before fatigue took over and she collapsed to the ground with a heavy sigh. Sweat ran down the side of her face, sticking the wisps of hair to her skin. Her ponytail flopped lazily with every movement she made, and she pulled her legs before her, massaging the aches out. She shot her dance instructor an annoyed look.

"How much longer?" she asked the girl beside her, eyes still glaring into the back of her instructor's head as he shouted at someone else.

The girl took a while to respond. Angela broke her death stare to look at her. "Are you deaf?" she asked. "I asked you how much longer."

The girl rolled her eyes, but she looked at her watch nonetheless. She hated Angela, like all the other girls in her dance class, but Angela didn't care. They tend to do whatever she asked of them anyway. "Ten minutes," the girl pushed out.

Angela dismissed her instantly. They were partners, but Angela never gave her any more attention that she needed. She swiftly got to her feet, still flexing. "Coach!" she shouted.

Her dance instructor, Paul, looked over at her. He flicked his hand, dismissing the girl then crossed his arms as Angela made her way over to him. "Yes, Angela?"

"We have ten minutes left. Let's do this one more time."

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Telling you," she answered, without missing a beat.

Paul, unlike many others, didn't care about Angela's money and influence. In his class, everyone was equal and so was treated equally. Angela might be the daughter of the richest politician in the country, but in Paul Francis' Dance Class, she was just another student. She might be the best, but even that didn't give her special rights. Quirking his brow at her, Paul asked, "You want to go over Incredible by Celine and Neyo, right?"

Angela mimicked his crossed arms. "That's the one with my solo, isn't it? Let's get this over with so I can go home."

"No, Angela. You don't tell me what to do and it's about time you figured that out by now."

"I have a competition coming up, coach!"

"I don't care. We're doing Reset. Get into places."

Widening her eyes, Angela stomped her feet as she gaped at her instructor. He was dismissing her, looking over her head as he waved over another student. Soon enough, a boy dressed in tight leotards came up to her and Angela couldn't help the look of disgust that came over her face.

"Darren, we're going through Reset again since Angela seems to think she's the boss here. Get into position."

"Yes, coach," Darren said before running off.

"This isn't fair," Angela pouted. Paul merely rolled his eyes.

She walked away from him, hiding her smile. Secretly, she wanted to dance to Reset by Tiger JK but she would never admit it. It was one of her guilty pleasures, her love for Korean music. She knew her dance instructor would do the opposite of what she said and everyone assumed she hated dancing to this song, when in fact, it was her favourite.

(A/N: You can play the song right here to get the right feel c:)

Pointing her toes down before her, Angela's eyes ran along her purple tights as she listened to the instrumental play. Darren stood behind her, in position. When the singing started, Angela was on air. The music ran through her veins, twisted her body as she kicked her legs into the air, twirled and paused. The song gave her a weird high, and she waited, a bit impatiently for Darren's rap part to be over.