"What do you mean?" he grimaced at me. I think I hit a nerve.
"I mean, you don't move like one. Aren't dancers supposed to stand up straight or walk like a duck, or something?"
"Oh, the girls. They walk like ducks. They get their feet so wide, they wreck their knees." He sauntered into the kitchen and opened the fridge.
"Mind if I have a soda?"
Presumptuous son-of-a-bitch. What the hell am I supposed to say? "No?" I shrugged. "Yeah, sure." He took the soda and swaggered down the hallway.
I followed from a respectful distance, but close enough to make sure he didn't go rummaging through my underwear drawer in my bedroom. 'I'm going to kill Greg,' I thought. I was having serious second thoughts about this straight- boy roommate thing. Nothing wrong with him being a boy -- but the straight thing. Plus, he was totally conceited -- one of those guys who thinks he's God's gift to women with his Don Juan looks, black leather jacket and motorcycle.
It was no wonder Greg totally fell for him. Nice ass, broad shoulders, nice chest -- must come from lifting all those girls. I dated a ballet dancer once. She was gorgeous - until you took her clothes off. It was like sleeping with a skeleton. When I hugged her I wrapped my arms around myself. Nah, I like flesh!! Greg certainly did. And this guy had a nice hunk of it.
I heard the living room door open.
"Hey, anybody home??" Great, just great. Greg. "It's me and Andrew."
"Yo, we're in here," I yelled over my shoulder.
"So this is my room?" Mike asked. He was standing in the middle of what was our guest room, and the light was coming through the window at just that angle that softened his face and defined his body. Someone gasped quietly behind me.
I turned around annoyed. "What, you've never seen a ballerina before?"
"Not like this one," said Andrew.
"Greg, man, get your tongue back in your mouth." God, I hate it when he gets all ga-ga like this. Worse yet, I could tell that straight boy Mike was getting a big kick out of it.
"This is my room," he stated for the boys. "I think I'll like this place."
"Yeah," said Greg. "It's got great, uh, light and all."
"You can use my old bed, too. No problem," chimed Andrew.
Now this was getting a little out of control. "Wait!" I said. " We haven't even decided if he's moving in here yet!"
The boys, all of them, looked at me like I was green. "I mean, you know, I haven't made up my mind yet!" And strode defiantly back to the living room...my living room.
