“Ethan is a fantasticdancer,” says Cara. “You’re in good hands.”
“Ah,” I say. My face feels even hotter. I really hope it’s not as red as it feels. I can’t believe I’m this flustered over a guy. I need to calm the fuck down.
I lean in toward Cara and lower my voice. “Is there a bathroom here?”
“Of course,” says Cara. “Just go back into the lobby, and then down the hall. You can’t miss it.”
“I’ll be right back.”
I duck out of the studio and rush down to the bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror and focus on taking deep breaths.
You’re okay, I tell myself. You can do this. It’s just a hot guy. It’s just a stupid dance.
But the queasiness gets the best of me. I rush into one of the stalls and throw up in the toilet. Afterward, though, I feel way better. My nerves are at least tolerable. I rinse out my mouth, leave the bathroom, and head back up the hall. At the entrance to the studio, I take a deep breath, and walk back in.