Page 24 of Just a Little White Lie

Dance teacher. Just… act like a dance teacher.

I clear my throat and force a smile, trying to revive my brain and remember what the hell I used to do when I taught full-time.

The group of unimpressed teens is staring at me. Eyes are narrowing, arms are folding, and chins are lifting. There’s a titter from the back.

“Shut up, Arlo,” the tall one says.

I study his Doberman expression and quickly work out that I have to win him over before everybody else.

“Hi.” I smile at him.

His black eyebrows create a roller coaster on his forehead, and I have to force myself to keep speaking. It’s obvious he thinks I’m pathetic.

“So…uh… as you know, I’m Miss Fillion. I’ve just moved into the area.”

“Show us some of your moves, Miss!” Arlo calls out with a laugh. “Let’s see you dance.”

The blood in my veins turns to ice, making it impossible to twitch more than my nose.

“You don’t look like no dance teacher to me.” Arlo’s having a field day, his wild curls bobbing as he crows with more laughter.

“Shut up, man.” The guy beside him is fighting a grin, but then he catches my eye, and I know I’m done for. His dark gaze travels up and down my body. “You’re not dressed like a dancer.”

I swallow.

He moves forward, and I can’t help studying him. His light umber skin, the suggestion of a mustache on his upper lip. He’s got intelligent eyes, and I’m suddenly naked—raw and exposed.

Stopping next to the tall one, he crosses his arms, then looks up at his friend.

They snicker together, and now I’m a naked little ant ready to be squished.

Lifting my chin, I try for a little improv. “I… um… I love dancing. Yeah, I’ve been doing it for years now.”

Play it cool, Lauren. You’re the teacher, remember? You’re in charge!

“So, yeah. We’re gonna rock this class.”

And now I’m pitiful. Awesome.

“We’ll put together some moves, and uh… I’ll show you how to…” My brain scrambles for dance terminology, but I’m coming up empty. The only thing I can think of is some of the TikTok videos I did with my friends.

I shake my butt and start pumping my arms, trying to recreate the moves, but I can’t remember them all, and my pencil dress is restricting my movements.

The first to laugh is Alexia. Her entire face lights with amusement, a wide smile pulling at her cheeks. The mocking sound quickly ripples throughout the group until they’re howling like a pack of monkeys.

And my humiliation is complete.

“Nice dancing, Miss,” Arlo shouts, and the laughter crescendos all over again.

I cross my arms and grapple to pull on what little dignity I have left. It’s hanging by a freaking thread, but I force the tatters back into place as best I can.

“All right! All right!” I clap my hands to get their attention. “So I’m not prepared. Gimme a break. I didn’t know I was doing this today. Why don’t you guys show me some of your moves?”

They stay still, and I’m feeling more like a prison warden by the second. These teenagers are not going to play fair, and the day has only just begun.

My cheeks burn, and I scramble for something to rescue me from this moment. I glance at my watch and can’t believe only ten minutes have passed. I still have a crap-ton of time to fill. “Let me just… tell you a little about me, then.”

“Sure,” one of them snickers. “Why don’t you tell us about your years at Julliard?”

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