Oh God!
What is this life?!
NO CUTE GUYS!!??

Those were literally my first thoughts as I entered the dance room. Absolutely no cute boys! Even worse, everyone was around the age of 14-15. But then, what was I thinking anyways- that 17 year old boys would have the time and interest for dance class? They probably have other things to do at home...

I walked in, slightly nervous, because I knew I wasn't bad at dancing, but I wasn't the best. As I put down my bag, the instructor turned to me and gave me a big smile.

"Ms. Matthews, I presume?", she asked.

"Yes ma'am", I nodded.

"I'm Mrs. Verte. Camille Verte. I will be helping you with your dance, today onwards", she said, her smile never faltering, which was kinda scary because her teeth were so white that I was sure I would go blind if I looked at then any longer.

I managed to avoid her teeth and look into her eyes. She had lovely, bright green eyes that complimented her blonde hair.

Avoid her teeth?

Ok, now I'm making her sound like she's a vampire. Don't get me wrong, I was only avoiding the eerie whiteness of her teeth. She is NOT a vampire. Or at least I think so.

Ugh!

Anyways, there were hardly any girls and even lesser boys. And like I said, all the boys were younger and looked nothing like Zac Efron. Yes, that was my standard.

Now I sound like I joined this class to find my self a boyfriend.
Well... That's not entirely untrue...
I AM single right now, so...

"...Ms. Matthews will now present to us her skill", I snapped my head towards Mrs. Verte. Of course, I was hit by her radiant smile.

Oh my God! Didn't she have jaws?
Or at least didn't her cheeks hurt?!

Thankfully, I managed to ignore those teeth because I was hit by reality. Square in the face. I have to dance, in front of everybody. Ok, let's do this.

Not.

I tried to smile at her, but I was sure my teeth would look yellow compared to her's, so I refrained from showing my teeth to her.

"Which song would you like to pick, Ms. Matthews?", she asked, already on her phone, presumably waiting to search up my song.

"Dangerously, by Charlie Puth", I answered. That was a song I was very comfortable with.

"Interesting choice, I must say", she commented.

And the music began.

I had done this so many times. The music immediately felt like a part of me and my confidence pushed my hands and back in ways only dance and music can display. My body moved like water over rocks, without breaking and in perfect sync.

It was like my legs had a mind of its own and brushed the ground with utmost gentleness. As the song picked up in intensity, I made sure my arms moved faster, yet like the eagle that dives for its prey, gracefully. I felt my red hair, which was previously in a bun, come undone.

I imagined that it looked like the leaping amber of a flame. My hair brushed against my shoulders and I felt like an angel surrounded by heavenly fire. Then the divinity slowly faded as the music slowed down and eventually stopped.

The class erupted into thunderous clapping. The first thing I did was count the number of people. 6. 7- if you included Mrs. Verte. But the sound was deafening.

"That was beautiful Ms. Matthews", Mrs. Verte beamed. Beamed as in, probably literally, if you considered her teeth. But she seemed genuinely pleased.

"Well, I just tried. And please, call me Eva", I tried to be modest, but I had to be honest, at least to myself. That routine felt so good!

"Eva? Ah, right. Evangeline Matthews. Evangeline. The name sounds... musical. Evangeline. Hmm, yes. It does have a certain tune to it. Lovely name, darling", she went on, lost in her exaltation of my name.

"Why, thank you!", I gushed. I have never heard anyone say such nice things about my name. She smiled at me. Funny thing, I might have gotten used to those teeth.

Then she asked me to sit on the side and watch the rest of the class. They were clearly half-way through learning a song. The steps they were learning looked so amazing, though to learn them must've been a big task.

Yet they managed it. And I was blown away by that.

Once the class was done, I got into my bike and rode away. Mom and Dad, both offered to drop and pick me up, but cycling had a certain essence of its own.

The wind against your face, the bumps on the road, the pleasure in the pain from pedalling... All these were what made cycling an experience to die for.
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A/n: New story! I am so excited for this! Please vote and comment!
That's the song Dangerously. Listen to it...