Just four days before the dance, Devin was far from being prepared. Lightning cracked the sky, followed by a roar of thunder in the far-off distance, with rain pouring from a sky of gray velvet. Muddy puddles swallowed up water that poured from the gutters of the house, while streetlights struggled to light the way in the gusty downpour.

Devin stood on Trechial's porch. A thin layer of rain ran down his face. His shirt clung to his body like a second skin, but that didn't matter to him. He loved the rain, not as much Trechial, but he found it refreshing. He loved to experience each drop, together and apart, same and different, soaking his eyelashes before they dropped to the ground as saltless tears.

The news broke about him and Candice dating, and he semi-expected Trechial to confront him about it, but she hadn't. She never spoke a word about it. In typical Trechial fashion, she avoided him. It annoyed him at how quickly she disposed of their friendship when she was jealous or mad. Three weeks till the day, and she had managed to avoid him. Whether at school, home, or Amigos, she dodged him or simply ignored him without explanation, and he was sick of it. Trechial claimed to not have any feelings for him, but if the mixed tape she gave to him on his birthday told him anything, it was definitely that she liked him. Every single song from Truly, Madly, Deeply to the last track One Last Cry screamed I LIKE YOU.

His jaw tightened, and he swallowed his temper, raking a hand through drenched strands as he pressed the doorbell.

"Run that by me again?" Trechial quipped, scrunching her face into a ball, not sure if she heard Devin right.

He shoved his hair away from his face. "Can you teach me how to dance?" he murmured, looking away. "I get you're mad at me, no fault of my own..."

"Bye, Devin." In one swift motion, she attempted to shut the door in his face, but he shoved his foot in the door jam and stuck his face in the crack.

He poked out his lip, a plea Trechial knew all too well. "Help a friend out?"

Trechial smacked her teeth loudly, glaring at him like a peasant that didn't deserve to waste her time. "Why can't your girlfriend help you out?"

"Because I'm asking you." And because I'll do anything to be near you. He was mesmerized by her sloppy bun, hoop earrings, and glossy lips.

She leveled her gaze, her grip still tight on the door handle. Teach him how to dance to impress another girl? She'd rather not.

There was a momentary pause as she blew out an expulsion of air.

"Fine." She found herself leaving the door cracked for him to enter.

He stepped behind her into the quiet house the clicking of the door sealing them in together. Charlie and her mom were out on a date and wouldn't be back until around nine or ten, leaving Devin and Trechial alone in this empty house.

Devin's footsteps clamored against the hardwood, his eyes drifting down to the sway of Trechial's hips in the gym shorts. He mentally checked himself, bringing his gaze to the back of her head. He needed a distraction.

"Date?" he blurted out.

Her face construed into puzzlement. "Huh?"

"Do you have a date for the dance?"

She flipped on the lamp, illuminating her room. "No, I'm flying solo," she answered, first moving the chair against the wall by her bed then going turn on her five-disc radio sitting on her dresser.

Devin's sharp gaze from the door followed her around the room. She avoided getting trapped in his two-toned marbles.

"Why are you avoiding me again?" he said, his tone clipped with a mixture of agitation and sadness. "Is this becoming a normal thing for us?"

She offered him a halfhearted shrug, continuing to press the scan button on the radio being greeted by static and broken voices through the speaker. He took quick steps to her and seized her by the wrist, forcibly yanking her to him. Her mouth fell open in shock. "Tell me, what did I do?"

She looked to the ground.

What did he do? He didn't do anything––that was the problem. Things had become murky when she was forced to admit she liked him.

"Nothing. I just have a lot I'm sorting through."

He dipped his head, searching her for answers, though his voice held sincerity in it. "Such as?"

She lifted her eyes to his. "My selfishness."

"Selfishness?" he asked.

"I want to support you and Candice, but..." She glanced away, penitence covering her face. "I can't," she whispered.

Devin didn't know whether to find that cute or infuriating. Truth was, he loved Trechial. At least that's what it felt like in his ninth-grade mind. He was no expert. But she drew the line and made the rules. Therefore, she had no right to be jealous.

He released her wrist, his lips curling up to one side. "Then don't. Don't be fake. Besides, I don't want your support."

Her brows drew together in confusion. "You don't?"

"Do you really think I supported you dating Leandro? Hell no!" He remembered the times he caught them together behind the building about to kiss, and fury brought a frown to his face. "I wanted to smash that dude into the ground every day."

She concealed the aftermath of his confession with a weak chortle. "That's your friend, Tae."

"And that's why I didn't. Now teach me how to dance, girl."

She laughed. "Thanks." He nodded shewing her towards the radio. "What type of dancing are you trying to learn? If you say dirty, I'll kick you out."

He turned and headed towards the door. "Welp, this was a wasted trip."

Trechial chuckled at his abrupt move and grabbed the purple beanie-baby off the dresser and hummed it at him, but he dodged it effortlessly. He laughed his way over to her bed and laid down on his back, propping an elbow beneath his arm, his eyes glued to her every move.

"Tell me what you want to learn so I can find a song."

"Teach me how to have rhythm without really moving my feet. And...how to slow dance."

Startlement washed over her. Slow what? Maybe she could tire him out before the slow dancing part? Then an idea sparked in her brain. With a devious smirk tugging on her lips, she wiggled her brows at her perfect plan.

"I have two dance moves that will win you a lot of attention with the ladies."

"Thought you didn't like when I got attention from the ladies?" A smirk morphed into a boyish grin that made Trechial's heart dysfunctional.

"No, I don't like when they bother me to get your attention," she said, digging through her dresser drawer for a shirt that would fit him without making him look like a tinkle-fairy. She obtained an NSYNC long white tee shirt and tossed it to him. He rolled over and allowed the shirt to land next to him. A look of pure disgust crossed his face.

"I'm not wearing that," Devin told her, looking on with revulsion at the group of guys smiling up at him.

"You're drenched, dude. Put it on or I'm not helping you." She crossed her arms and leered at him.

He bit out something in a different language and stood up. His two-tones flickered with retaliation as soon as he formulated a plan. Trechial gasped, and her eyes widened when he lifted the shirt above his head, revealing skin with no afterthought of her being present. She spun around to the dark wood of the dresser, homing in on the silver knobs, her breathing becoming that of a runner.

Washboard stomach.

Biceps.

She may have been mad with Devin, but she for sure wasn't blind to his amazing body. His slim muscular build appealed to the carnal side of her. She bit the inside of her cheek—succumbing to the lust swirling around in her mind and body.

She drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Stop it, Trechial, you're such a perv. God is watching you! This was why she did not attend his swim meets and competitions; she didn't want images of Devin Liao in tight blue speedos floating around in her head all day. Sinful!

"Finished." Amusement hid in his voice.

She half-turned to him. He was back, stretched out on her bed, his long legs planted on the floor, one arm folded behind his head, observing her as he never shied away from the opportunity. "You look more as if you're ready to sleep than to dance, Devin Liao."

"Uh-huh." He stretched his arms over his head in a big stretch, her eyes following the flexing of his muscles. "So what are these dances you're going to teach me?" he asked walking up to her as she browsed through her CD case. Once she found the CDs she was looking for, she opened the tray and popped in one CD at a time until it was full.

Trechial pushed play then scurried over to him, pushing him by the shoulders to the center of the room. He went to put his hands on her waist, but she smacked them away.

"No touch, just watch."

He frowned, surveying the hand that got smacked. Admittingly, she didn't think it was a good idea to do any intimate touching, as something between them could be felt throughout the room as is. Things left unsaid were whispered silently through their stolen glances.

She met his steady gaze as That's The Way Love Goes by Janet Jackson started to play. Not the ideal song, given the lyrics and Trechial's desire to sing the song automatically.

"Now, this is neither a slow nor a fast song. The key is to catch the beat and to stay on pace with the background music and the vocalist. You do not have to have fancy footwork to have rhythm. Got it?"

He nodded, watching with disciplined focus as she bounced from one foot to another, snapping her fingers to the beat.

Five songs later and Trechial stood amazed at how someone's body could work against them in a defiant way as Devin's did. His knees bent, but his feet didn't move. When his feet moved, nothing else followed. His movements defied all reasonable logic, hence him tripping over his feet when he attempted to do an MJ spin. Of course, she laughed hysterically at him before reaching out a helping hand to his blushing face. Then there was him plucking his fingers and stumping his feet as if he were at a hillbilly banjo event, ready to Dosey-doe to U Can't Touch This!

It was a sheer tragedy, his lack of rhythm that is.