The sweat rolled off Kike’s nose and dripped onto the floor.
She looked over at the mirror to check if she was doing it right. She always felt self conscious in class. Always thinking that her classmates were judging her.
Her anxiety was on fire tonight.
Her teacher Ian, gave the final move of the night before, bidding them all goodbye.
A chorus of ‘bye’s’ and ‘see you tomorrow’s’ rang out around her as people began to trickle out of the class.
Kike picked up her towel, wiping the sweat off her forehead and went to leave.
Ian reached out a hand, stopping her.
“You’ve been showing great improvement,” he smiled at her.
“Really, I thought I’ve been quite shit,” she replied. “Sorry I always swear when I’m nervous.”
“You’ve got nothing to be nervous about,” he beamed back at her. “Just keep up the good work, I see real potential in you.”
“Thanks,” she replied sheepishly.
“I’ll see you next class,” he said turning away from her.
Leaving the studio, Kike’s head was in cloud 9. Who would have thought that her of all people would have gotten good feedback.
She had been so nervous when she first started. Serious doubts about whether a dance career was really for her. Yes she enjoyed it, yes she had been championed by her teachers at school for it, but was she really good enough?
And now getting great feedback from Ian fucking Henshaw. One of the best teachers at the school. She felt like she had all the validation that she needed. If he could see potential in her, then maybe she was a real dancer.
Kike made a beeline for the changing room. Deciding to take a shower now, rather than waiting til she got home.
She retied her bun on top of her head and stripped off her dance clothes.
She stepped into the shower, allowing the water to sluice over her skin. She loved showers, the feel of the hot water against her skin, revitalised her.
She started to hum a Sade song. So lost in the utter bliss she didn’t hear the door of her shower open.
“You’re so beautiful, just like I imagined you to be.”
Standing there was Ian, stark naked and gawping at her.
Startled Kike hurried to cover herself, she looked for her towel but it was gone.
“What are you doing here,” she stuttered.
He ignored her and stepped into the shower. Kike began to back away, but the shower wall stopped her.
He reached out to touch her. His hand grazing her shoulder.
“You need to go,” she attempted to speak again.
He moved closer to her. His hand moving to her breast.
She wanted to scream, to tell him to fuck off. But the words were stuck in her throat.
He moved closer again. Pressing his body against hers. He began to run his hands down her back applying more pressure as he reached her waist.
Kike felt tears well up in her eyes.
She felt his leg move behind hers, locking her to his body.
She closed her eyes, willing her mind to escape.
She felt his lips on hers. She tasted the coffee and cigarette mixture in his mouth.
His kiss deepened.
She felt sick. Why was this happening? Had she given him the wrongs signs, given him the impression that she liked him like that.
She felt him enter her and felt herself die. Her body was no longer hers. He had murdered her. With every thrust, he killed her that little bit more.
After he was finished, he gave her a kiss on her forehead and cupped her face in his hands.
“See I told you, you were improving,” he smiled at her. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”
He stepped out the shower, leaving her alone.
Kike felt her body crumple to the floor of the shower. She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come; she was numb. Her emotions could not adjust to what had just happened.
She sat on the floor for what felt like hours. The water washing him away. But no matter how much water touched her, she couldn’t get him off her; she couldn’t get clean.
Stepping into her normal clothes, questions bumped around her head. But they remained unanswered.