The ringing of the phone startled him. He jumped up off the chair, hit Mute on the stereo, and picked up his cellphone, checking the Caller ID. When he saw the call came from DanceSpace, he smiled to himself.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Clay, it's Holly. I hope it's not too late."

He flopped down on the end of his bed, propping himself up with one arm. "Nope, not too late at all. What can I do for ya?"

"Well, I wanted to return your call tonight, but I didn't get your message until right before this workshop I was teaching, and I just finished. It's cool if you're a little late tomorrow, I'll wait as long as you need me to. As long as you don't stand me up. I don't like being stood up." He could hear her smile as she spoke. "But really, as long as you get here, I'll be here. No problem."

Clay sat up, a little surprised that she was being so accommodating. "Really? I mean, I don't want to put you out or anything�"

"Oh, there's stuff I can do around here to keep myself occupied. Plenty, actually. But the reason why I wanted to talk to you tonight is to let you know that I was thinking about you today�you know, about how you're really progressing, and I've decided you're ready for the next step. No more sitting on the stool, I promise!"

He laughed, looking over at the chair he'd just been sitting on as he did his nightly practice. "Oh darn, really? 'Cause, I was really enjoying that, you know."

"Yeah, sure you were, smartass. Just be sure to wear something comfortable tomorrow. Something loose-fitting you can really move around in. And don't be scared. We're still taking little baby steps."

Clay shifted his position again, feeling a little anxious, and nervously played with a thread sticking out of a seam on his pajama pants. "I'm glad about that. I mean, I just don't think I'm�you know, I trust your judgement and all, but I don't see how I'm getting any better. Are you really sure I'm doing okay?"

"You're wonderful, Clay! You have it in you, you really do. You're just not feeling it yet. Maybe after tomorrow you'll get a better idea of the big picture. Trust me?"

"Yeah, I trust you." He got up off the bed and began pacing. "It's just that I feel really�I don't know�goofy when I'm practicing. I feel kinda stupid."

"Why?"

He looked over at Raleigh who was asleep in her bed in the corner. "Sometimes my dog stares at me. She makes me feel a little self-conscious."

She laughed out loud. "How about if you pretend she's 20,000 people in an arena scrutinizing your every move? That should make you more comfortable."

"Uh�yeah thanks, big help, Holly." He looked down at his bare feet with a big smile.

"Any time, hon. Wow, it's later than I thought it was. You sure I wasn't keeping you up?"

Clay sat back down on the chair he'd dragged to the middle of the floor. "Oh, no�I was just�practicing. You know, in my chair."

"Oh, you were? This late?"

"Yeah, I've been doing it before I go to sleep at night. It kinda�relaxes me."

"Interesting�" Her voice deepened as her thoughts moved southward. "I thought young men like you did�uh, something else to relax before going to sleep."

His stomach flip-flopped and he sprung up out of the chair, feeling like he'd just been caught. "Well, uh�I mean�sure, you know�I�uh�" He started pacing again. "I guess I�um, I mean, I guess we do." He tried to find something clever to say to cover up his embarrassment. "But it's not like a guy has to do one or the other�um, you know. He could always do both�I mean, I�um�" Shut up, Clay!

Holly giggled, knowing she'd just sent him into a bit of a tizzy. "Well, that's good to hear. Anything to keep that body of yours happy, right? You just�uh�keep it up." Now she was feeling a little exposed herself, and she tried to gracefully hang up the phone. "Okay, this payroll isn't going to do itself. I need to get back to work. See you tomorrow night, Clay. Don't forget�wear something comfortable." He stammered a goodbye and hung up.

His heart was pounding as he continued to pace the cool, wooden floor of his room. He needed to calm down or he was never going to get to sleep, and he wanted to be well rested since he was recording tomorrow. He went back to the stereo and turned the music back on.

Though you sit in another chair, I can feel you here
Looking like I don't care, but I do, I do
Hiding it all behind anything I see
Should someone be looking at me

He thought maybe doing a little more of his chair exercises would help to soothe his now-frayed nerves, so he sat down and closed his eyes.

While you look so sweetly and divine, I can feel you here
I see your eyes are busy kissing mine, and I do, I do
Wondering what it is they're expecting to see
Should someone be looking at me

He found himself leaning backwards and rocking his hips forward the way she'd encouraged him to do last week. He let his head drop back and remembered how she'd placed her hand on his stomach, telling him to concentrate on the muscles there and how they were moving. He felt his lower back undulating slightly in a snake-like fashion, just as she'd talked about, and soon he was pressing his shoulder blades against the back of the chair, letting the movement of his hips ripple upwards along his spine, and down through his legs. He remembered how surprised he was when she'd left her hand on his stomach for so long, and how quickly she removed it when he'd caught her eye. His mind was filled with thoughts of her and he was suddenly aware of how overtly sexual his movements had become. Maybe I should just go to bed after all.

Clay crossed the room to his bed, clicking the stereo off as he passed by. He pulled the bedding down haphazardly, distracted by his thoughts. He sat on the edge of the bed, making sure his alarm was set for the morning, and considered sleeping without his T-shirt tonight, because he noticed he was feeling a bit warm. No, better not. Might get cold later. It's not really warm in here anyway�it's probably just�me.

He shook his head, as if trying to send the image of Holly flying out of his ear. He put his hands over his face and flopped backward onto the bed with an exasperated sigh, then repositioned himself, tugging the sheet over him.

He reached up and turned off the light on his nightstand. He stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, replaying the phone call in his head. She said she was thinking about me�sure, she was calling about tomorrow's class, but she was thinking about me. I wonder if she thinks about me like I've been thinking about her? Of course not, why would she? I'm just that dork who can't dance who makes a fool of himself once a week right in front of her. He slid his hand under the hem of his shirt to scratch his stomach, and left it there, his fingers playing with the soft curls surrounding his navel. But she did say that thing about�young men�before bed�she wouldn't have said something like that if she didn't�I mean, maybe she does think about me like that a little�she could have been flirting with me just then. Oh God, why did I have to act like such an idiot? I should have come up with a better response than that. Now she knows that I�that I sometimes�wait, it's not like I'm the only one, that's got to be common knowledge or she wouldn't have said anything. Clay's fingers slid lower, reaching the untied drawstring of his pajama pants, and he absent-mindedly twisted one end around his finger. I'm sure what I said was fine, she didn't seem freaked out by it�she's the one who brought it up in the first place�and she sounded like she kinda liked the idea that I�

He rolled onto his right side, bunching up his pillow. Well, it ain't happening tonight, that's for sure. She's probably in her office right now, wondering if I'm doing it. Maybe she's even picturing me doing it. That's a little creepy. She probably just said it to mess with me, because she knows how easily I get embarrassed by that stuff, and now she's sitting there laughing at me. Ha-ha, Clay has a big day tomorrow and he needs to relax, so now he's gonna�oh man, I just know she's thinking about it right now. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, as if to inform him that relaxing was exactly what he needed to do, and thinking like that wasn't the best way to fall asleep. He restlessly flopped over onto his left side. But what if she is? I mean, what if she�likes it? What if she likes me? What if she's thinking about it and she's�she's sitting in her office, the studio is closed, she's all alone�I wonder if she's wearing that skirt she was wearing last week? I wonder if you can feel when someone is thinking about you, like the way they say your ears burn when someone's talking about you�maybe her thinking about me is what's making me feel so�wow, it really is kinda warm in here. His hand closed around the hem of his shirt, pulling it up to his chest. She might be sitting at her desk, trying to get work done, but she can't�because she's picturing me here, right now, knowing that she put these thoughts into my head and that I'd never be able to keep from�

Clay rolled over onto his back again and sighed. Oh, what the hell.