Mine?

I grabbed my dance bag, and skipped down the stairs, trying not to trip. Luckily, I made it alive, and walked into the kitchen.

“Phoebe, going to the dance studio?” My mother asked, chopping something up for dinner tonight.

“Yep!” I smiled. She smiled back, and then waved me out the door. “Have fun,” she said, blowing me a kiss. I returned it, and walked out the door, sliding into my sweet ride.

I had graduated out of high school a few years ago, and was staying with my mom while I went to college. I had just turned 21, and I taught at a dance studio to earn some extra money. I used to dance there, until I got too old.

I pulled up to the dance studio, and saw a weird, out of place black car with tinted windows. “What…?” I got out of my car, locking it, hoping my girls were okay. I walked inside, and the redheaded secretary winked at me.

“Your girls are fine,” she said, laughing at my worried expression. “There’s just someone watching your class today.” I furrowed my brow. I didn’t like when people watched my class. I walked into the class to find this amazingly adorable, hot boy in my class, sitting in my chair. The girls I taught were in the farthest corner from him, giggling and whispering.

“Excuse me,” I said, quietly, I was never good with strangers. “Who are you, and what are you doing?”

He smirked, and attempted to hide his smile. I refrained from laughing, and grinning, and kept my straight face. I loved it when people tried to hide their smiles, it made them look funny.

“I’m Gabe Saporta.” I blinked in disbelief, and finally shook his hand. I shook hands with Gabe Saporta. The lead singer of Cobra Starship was sitting in my dance class, watching.

“I hate to be rude, but why are you here?” He laughed. It was gorgeous. “Some of your girls are talented, or so I hear. I might need some new backup dancers.” Squeals erupted from the back corner. I didn’t even glance that way. I just stayed focused on him.

“Ya know, some people say that the reason these dancers are so good are because of their teacher,” he said, winking at me. I tried not to blush, and I tugged on my braided bracelet, the one the girls had given me as a thank you gift last year. They squealed again, and I rolled my eyes.

“Well, Mr. Saporta-”

“Gabe.” I blinked again.

“Gabe. You’re free to watch my class.” I turned on my heels and started to pull my light blonde hair into a ponytail. I put my bag on a chair, and then I walked over to my girls, clapping my hands.

“Alright! Just because we have a guest doesn’t mean you can get out of hand. We’re going to start our routine from the beginning.” I started playing the music for our song, a piece from Swan Lake, and counted off.

“5…6…5,6,7,8!” We launched into the routine, and I totally forgot about the extremely gorgeous celebrity sitting in my dance studio.

A few hours later, our session was over, and I clapped. “Good job today, girls. Dismissed.”

One of the older ones came over to me, tugging on my shirt.

“Phoebe, what about him?” She said, looking over at Gabe. He flashed a half-smile, and I turned back to her. “I’ll see what he says, and you’ll find out next time.” I smiled, and she giggled, walking into the dressing room.

“Your students are talented,” he said, getting up from the chair. I nodded. “They are.”

“Can I take you out for dinner?” I was caught off guard by his random question. I nodded quickly. “Sure, yes, of course. Um, let me just call my mom.” He nodded, and I stepped out of the room. Leslie, the secretary, giggled at my expression.

“I’m going on a date with Gabe Saporta!” I tried not squealing like the girls in my class. I quickly called my mom. She said it was fine, and I quickly walked back into the dance studio.

“I’m free to go, but I have to change.” I said, and he laughed. His laugh was contagious, and I started laughing. He laughed harder.

“Your laugh is very entertaining.” He said, and I tugged on my bracelet again. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.” We walked out into the parking lot, after I waved goodbye to Leslie.

“Actually, let me take my car home, and then we can go.” He agreed, and the plan happened.

((4 months later))

I’ve been talking to Gabe almost everyday now. I’ve learned a lot about him, and he’s learned a lot about me. We’ve grown close, and I’ve learned to love the person behind the famous mask.

I’ve also learned that he doesn’t fall in love easily.

This fact hasn’t discouraged me, though. We’re still friends. He always comes to watch, well, whenever he can. My girls always tease me about it. It didn’t help when he brought me a bouquet of daisies, my favorite flower.

It was after a big recital my girls put on. They did great, and I was waiting backstage. They all came off after bows, and I congratulated each and every one of them.

As soon as the last girl went to change, I felt hands cover my eyes.

“Gabriel, what are you doing here?” I said, giggling. He uncovered my eyes and spun me around, and he was grinning.

“Great job tonight!” He said, extremely excited.

“Really, it wasn’t me. The girls did all the work, and the boys. I just choreographed it.” He rolled his eyes.

“Feebers, you’re so weird!”

“But it’s true! They were fantastic, Angie did great on her triple pirouette, and Jessica did her-”
He cut me off, putting a finger on my lips.

“Has anyone told you you talk too much?” I shook my head, and then nodded.

“Actually, I have-!” This time he cut me off, but with his lips.

Gabriel Saporta is an amazing kisser.

I heard giggling, and my eyes flew open, and we separated. I looked behind him to see my whole dance class staring at us, hiding their mouths behind their hands, giggling.

Gabe turned around, and pulled me close. “Mine,” he said, growling at the girls. They squealed, just like they had when he first walked into my dance studio. They ran off backstage, giggling and talking.

He looked back at me. “Mine?” He said, this time a question. I nodded, grinning, my cheeks flushed.

“Yours.” I leaned in for another kiss, and he complied eagerly.