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.I know so little about you.You have this funny way of keeping your distance.Not that I’m one to talk, but it’s nice to learn something—anything—about you, even if it’s just something small.”He cupped his hands over hers and blew warm air onto them.Her face lit up like a stoplight.He started to crack up as she pulled her hands back, her face reddening even more.“I’m sorry,” laughed Monson.“That was totally inappropriate.I was just teasing you.Forgive me.”“Oh, you were just teasing me!” Her voice brightened.He took a quick half-step towards her, spinning her before she could object.He spoke as they twirled.“I’m sorry I was so forward.I wasn’t trying to embarrass you or anything.And I meant what I said; I’d be glad to get to know you better.Sometimes I forget how I’m supposed to act, even with my friends.”The music ended and people around them started to clap.Terrible timing, as Ignace was just starting to respond.“What was that?” asked Monson, unable to hear.“I didn’t quite catch it.”Ignace walked away, shaking her head.Monson let her leave.He knew she was not angry; exasperated maybe, but not angry.He laughed.He noted the need to apologize again later.Monson was just about to start towards Casey and the others when Ignace halted mid-stride.She glanced to both sides, then over her shoulder back at him.She about-faced and walked quickly towards him, stopping right in front of him.Her tawny-colored eyes met his in a stare that he held for what seemed like a long time.Slowly her eyes left his as she glanced downward along the lapel of his jacket.Small fingers brushed his pocket.She raised her mouth to his ear.Ignace touched his chest, moving her fingers slowly.She spoke inaudibly at first and then in a soft voice.“Remember, in your most dire of times.”She walked away from him without so much as an explanation.Monson watched her retreat a second time in bafflement.“Remember? Remember what?”As soon as he had said it, he found he was not at all concerned with the answer.Not in the slightest.***An hour or so later Monson was starting to get bored.After that first dance with Ignace, he had not danced much—not that it surprised him.He was partner-less after all; he glowered at that fact.Where was Taris? She could not still be getting ready.What was she doing, sewing the outfit herself?He took a deep breath and tried not to dwell on it.Thankfully, things seemed to be winding down as the important business people, parents of students, and A-listers began leaving for some adult-only party where Monson was sure that deals would be made and careers brokered.He took another deep breath; maybe he would buy an island somewhere and hire a model as his private tutor.Monson rubbed at his face thoughtfully.Now that plan has some merit, he thought.Yet, who to hire? Maybe he could sponsor a new reality TV show: Tutor an Ugly Billionaire.Monson licked his lips.That sounded like a series that could be on Fox.Yeah, definitely on Fox.Another twenty minutes went by with Monson deliberating on the difficulties of employing a model as a tutor.Deep in thought about the subject, he did not notice Mr.Gatt return to the stage.Mic in hand, he pointed at the students.“Well, boys and girls…are we having fun?”The crowd of students responded half-heartedly.Apparently Monson was not the only one bored.They should just give out the stupid awards already and let everyone go home.“I’m sensing some dissatisfaction.What do you have to say about that, Ms.Green?”Noise sprung from every corner of the Coliseum right as the lights cut off in mid-glare.The rhythmic boom of a bass guitar enveloped the crowd, growing louder in a climatic build.All at once, massive floodlights illuminated a huge hanging platform dangling far above the students’ heads, and focused on a single spot right in the middle.Monson, up on his feet now, rotated in a circle staring at the descending monstrous projection screens now facing the crowd of students.The screens flickered to life and zoomed in on the platform.The hourglass figure stuffed in a green top and mini-skirt was instantly recognizable.Taris.The platform descended directly towards the students and incredibly enough, the stunt did not cause outright panic.The students simply moved out of the way for the platform, which touched down with a loud metallic clunk.Taris stepped gracefully onto the stage and the students watched as the platform ascended.Artorius rubbed his hands in anticipation.“Oh yes, OHHH YES.Let it begin!”He scooped up a surprised but amused Indigo and spirited her to the dance floor.Casey and Christy followed soon after with Monson right behind them.The student body pressed up against the stage as, in another one of her magical displays, Taris launched into her performance.***Most of the more prominent music students performed over the next hour or so, during which the Coren University dance became a movie set for Dirty Dancing: The Remix.Monson watched in fascination as the students fell into a sort of foot-stomping collective, enjoying the freedom gained in the absence of the prying eyes of parents, staff, reporters and teachers.The students popped and clicked, jimmied and jived, swayed and swaggered, to every kind of music imaginable, from hip-hop to modernized-classical.The scene was one of excitement and life, and one that Monson enjoyed very much.It was during this frenzy that a new and profound phenomenon came to his attention: slow dancing.This was not something he had seen or experienced before so it took him some time to figure out.Couples held each other close, usually to a ballad or love song, swaying to simpering declarations of eternal love and devotion.At first Monson thought the whole thing was silly—what a boring way to dance.Then he saw the potential behind these actions.He reconsidered.Sometimes it was difficult to tell someone your true feelings or even really work out what those feelings were, but this “slow dancing” provided an opportunity for physical closeness and a certain degree of emotional intimacy.Intimacy that would be important as the relationship forged ahead.“You should write a book.” Dawn’s voice echoed in an irritatingly disjointed fashion, but clearer than it had been recently.“Love according to Monson Grey! It has a nice ring to it, no?”“Stop listening to my internal monologues; it’s annoying
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