On The Floor (Second Story)

  Copyright © 2014 Jennifer LaCross.

  All rights reserved worldwide.

  Cover photo rights purchased from iStockPhoto.com

  Cover designed by Bradley C. La Cross

  No part of this e-book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excepts in one of their reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is completely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Playlist for On the Floor

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Three years earlier

  My heart is empty.

  My life is over.

  My soul is broken.

  Without my mother.

  Everything in my world is falling apart. My dad is lost in grief. Chad is deploying. Monica is alone. Or she will be if I don't do something about it. Giving up my lifelong dream seems like a lot, but it's not. Not when it comes to my family. They mean everything to me. Especially now that there is one less of us.

  There is also the fact that I'm completely numb.

  When everyone around you has fallen apart, sometimes it's up to you to keep it together. Even if that means losing yourself in the process.

  Maybe one day I'll find myself again.

  But until then... I'll just go to the beach.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Chapter 1

  Alone on another field trip.

  In charge of a rowdy group of kids in front of museum. Well, I guess they’re not really kids. They’re college freshmen. Though sometimes with the way they act, you’d think they were in junior high school.

  But that’s the path I chose when I decided to go to school at the San Diego College of Arts and Music, or CAM. I knew I wouldn’t be able to afford an apartment, so I became a resident advisor (RA). It’s a lot of work, but I like it. Handling all of the little arguments in our floor meetings. Planning educational things for the floor to do together. Solving roommate squabbles. I even enjoy the late night solve-my-problem wake-ups, strange as it may sound.

  And I think I would love being an RA if I had a functional academic mentor (AM) to work with. But no. I don’t. I have Ty Rhoades.

  When my boss, Judy, first told me about the person I would be working with, and living across the hall from, I was excited. She said he was a music major and played guitar. I’m a musical education major, but I take a lot of the same classes and I thought we would get along well.

  Then I met him. I saw him walking down the hall and at first I thought he was quite good looking. Ty is tall, slightly muscular, and has sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. I smiled at him, but when he got closer I noticed some other things about his appearance. His shirt was stained, his hair was greasy, and his eyes were red with dilated pupils. And my first thought was, how did this guy get hired to mentor a bunch of college freshmen?

  But I tried not to judge. I mean, maybe he’s a great guy. Maybe he’s smart. Maybe he’s really excited to mold young minds. Wrong. The first conversation was filled with stories about this time he was so high, or that time he was so drunk. No mention of working together at all. He also told me about “this one chick” he hooked up with. Which he later confessed was the only chick he has ever hooked up with. Then he asked me if I would be his second lover.

  After he asked me that, he threw up on my shoes. Ew.

  When I left our meeting that night, I still wasn’t sure why Ty had been selected to be an AM. Judy must have seen something in him. Maybe he was just having a bad day.

  And I bet he didn’t puke on Judy’s shoes…

  Now it’s an entire semester later, and he is still the same flaky burnout who I met the first night he moved in.

  And I’m over it.

  I’m reporting him to Judy.

  He has already had a warning when Judy noticed that he wasn’t at our open mic night last semester. I’ve never reported him before, even though he has missed or was seriously late to every event we have ever had for the floor.

  But I’m done.

  ***

  Ty finally shows up to the field trip after we’ve already taken our museum tour. Hours late. And high.

  I pull him off to the side while we wait for the bus to take us back to campus, hoping he has some sort of valid excuse as to why he missed another field trip.

  “I know, I know, I know,” he says when we round the corner of the building. “I fucked up. I had a band meeting that turned into a party. And there was this one chick who was all over me! I mean, how could I leave her hanging?” he asks with that stupid smile on his face, raising his eyebrows.

  “Wow. Okay…” I respond. Every time Ty opens his mouth he says something stupid. If I had to guess, the next thing that he’ll say will be even worse.

  “So, you know I had to stay, right? She was hot! And the fuckin’ rack on her… Bigger than even yours!” he says, holding his hands up to my chest and pretending to squeeze.

  And I’m right. Even worse.

  “Ew Ty!” I say, slapping his hands away.

  “And like did you even really need me to be here, Rach? It looks like you have it handled. There was really no reason for me to be here anyways.”

  And that last comment, out of everything he has said, makes me lose it.

  Normally I have an even temper. Normally I am forgiving. Normally I am very patient. I have always been the peacekeeper among my friends and family. Letting Ty keep his job this long without reporting him has to be a testament to the amount of chances I will give a person.

  But I’ve had enough. Enough of his vulgarities. Enough of his flippant attitude. Enough of his carelessness.

  Enough of him. Period.

  “No! Don’t call me Rach! We’re not friends! We’re not anything! Just stop, Ty! I just…” and then I growl. I am angry. Furious. There is no other way to explain it. And I can’t believe I just growled!

  “Whoa, Rachel…” he says, stepping back.

  “That’s it Ty. I’m reporting you to Judy. And I hope she fires you. The fact that you think that you didn’t need to be here because I have it handled. They’re not children, Ty! I don’t need help babysitting! It’s your job to be here! You were hired to help them, and all you have helped them with was telling them which bars don’t card!”

  “That’s pretty useful information…”

  “Shut up, Ty! These freshmen deserve better than you. And I’m done standing by while you ignore your responsibilities,” I finish, turning to walk away and back to the group.

  Before I can get far, he grabs my arm. I stop, b
ut don’t turn around. “Let go of me, Ty.”

  “I just wanted to say that you’re right. About everything you just said. You want them to have the best experience, and I am pretty shitty at my job. You’re going to make a pretty good teacher one day, you know. You care.”

  Confused by what he just said, I turn my head and look at him. I start to thank him, but then he says, “But you’re still a frigid bitch. The best teachers usually are.” Then he lets go of my arm and walks away, in the opposite direction of the group.

  Seriously?

  The first thing I’m doing when I get back to the dorms: Calling Judy.

  Goodbye, Ty.

  ***

  “And then he called me a ‘frigid bitch!’ Can you believe that?”

  “What a total dick! You are the sweetest person I know! And you gave him so many chances to get it together. Sure, you can be a little quiet and shy. But ‘frigid bitch?’ No way! We both know he is still just bitter because you turned down his limp dick. Asshole.”

  Ladies and gentleman: My best friend, Jenna Fitzgerald.

  If I am quiet and shy, she is my exact opposite. Loud and opinionated. She always has something to say. In most cases it is exactly what I want to hear. Sometimes it’s not, but in those cases it’s something I need to hear. After all, isn’t that what a true best friend is for? To see you for who you really are, even if you aren’t ready or willing to see for yourself.

  This is one of those times where we are on the exact same page. She says everything I wish I could say. Hell, she has told Ty stuff like this to his face.

  “Rachel, I am really sorry you got stuck with such a tool. But I am glad that you finally stood up for yourself with him. He has been taking advantage of your kindness and patience for too long.”

  She flips her head upside down and shakes her short red hair. Standing back up she looks at me in the mirror on the back of her door and smiles. I have always loved Jenna’s hair. She’s constantly changing it. I have had the same long, dark drown, layered hair since junior high.

  Jenna Fitzgerald and I met in community college and both transferred to CAM last semester. She’s working on a degree in dance and she plans on teaching as well. We had a lot of the same classes and I was drawn to her confidence and ability to say what was on her mind. I was always quiet and reserved, wanting but not willing to speak my mind. She has helped me learn that it is okay to say what I am feeling and stand up for myself. I still have a long way to go until I am at her level, but I am not sure I ever want to be that forward.

  Not only are we opposite in personality, but we look very different as well. Jenna is almost six feet tall and though she is very thin she still has a figure, even with her narrow hips and small chest. Plus, the girl has legs that go on forever. Guys are always asking her if she is a model. Her response is always: “Fuck off.” She has bright blue eyes and, at the moment, she has short newly red hair. She is constantly changing the color whenever she gets a new boyfriend. So for her, that is about every other week. She just dumped Hector last night, which explains the change from blonde to red.

  I am average height and very curvy. I have long brown hair and big, green eyes. I like to think that I am pretty, but sometimes I’m not sure. I never seem to attract much male attention, but that might also be because every time I go out I am with Jenna. And being the force that she is, it’s hard to get any attention when you are near her. Especially given the fact that (as I have already pointed out) I am a bit on the shy side.

  But I can’t complain much. We always have a good time and she never ditches me. She always makes sure to hook me up with “the friend.” It’s not her fault that he (whoever he may be that night) is always just as shy as me or so forward I don’t think he really cares who he hooks up with as long as she has lady parts. And in both cases all they can ever do is stare at my boobs.

  Most nights, I end up going home alone after giving Jenna the go ahead to bounce with her flavor of the month. The nights where I do have company, it is always Jenna.

  We are both RAs, but her experience has been a little different than mine. The reason for that is she has the most amazing Academic Mentor to work with. His name is Jimmy and he is one of the greatest guys I have ever met. He is what an AM is supposed to be. He listens to his group of freshmen, plans activities, tutors, and helps with assignments. Jimmy is actually the one who suggested I should go to Judy about my issues with Ty. We hit it off at the beginning of the year and when we talk he always looks me in the eyes. He would be my perfect boyfriend, except for the fact that he already has one. His name is Dan and they are perfect together. So instead of a romantic relationship, we became great friends and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “So, are we going out to celebrate the end of limp dick asshat?” Jenna asks bringing me out of my thoughts and back into the real world.

  “Definitely!”

  “Good! Because I just dumped Hector and I need a dick free evening!” she says heading to her closet.

  “Aren’t you inviting Jimmy and Dan?”

  “Well, yeah. I guess what I meant was that I need a dick-in-me free evening. One night out with no hook-ups after every break-up. You know my no rebound rule,” she says, laughing at my shocked face.

  “Oh my god! Jenna! Don’t!”

  “What?” she says, feigning innocence.

  “You just said dick-in… oh my god. You know what I mean! You can’t say stuff like that!” I say, laughing with her now.

  “Sure I can. I just did. Now put this on,” she says, throwing me a bright purple scoop neck top that is held together in the back by three strings. I look at the shirt and start to shake my head no.

  “I am not wearing this shirt! I won’t be able to wear a bra and…”

  “Yes you are, Rachel! You don’t even need a bra! You have, like, the best tits I've ever seen. They are just as perky as fake ones, but they’re real! Now go put on your tightest jeans and highest black heels. We are going to Sound!”

  Chapter 2

  Sound. What an appropriate name for this place.

  The music is loud and fast. Bodies are writhing all around me. I am hot. So hot I feel like I have sweat on every single part of me. And for the first time in my life I don’t care. I am moving with the rest of the crowd as I shake and roll my hips to the beat.

  I am five beers in. That is two more than I normally drink and I think that explains why I am actually out on the dance floor. And Jenna, Jimmy, and Dan are right there with me. I love dancing, but I just never have the confidence to go out on the floor with all those sweaty people and dance so close to them.

  Tonight, however, is different. We are celebrating my liberation from the biggest tool I have ever met. And I want to dance. I want to take everything I have been feeling and let it out. I just want to let go. And that is exactly what I am doing.

  The song ends and I need another beer. I tell my friends that I am going to the bar and Jimmy offers to come with.

  “Damn girl! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you move like that!”

  “Yes you have Jimmy! I've danced with you before.”

  Jimmy gives me a knowing look and says, “Oh puh-lease! You have swayed to the music with me. Maybe even sashayed a little bit. But you have never done that! You. Were. Working. It. And you know it!”

  I smile at him. And he flashes me a smile right back, his brown eyes twinkling from the lights in the club.

  “Okay, okay. I guess I did get carried away a little bit out there.”

  “Rachel, sweetie. You didn’t get carried away. You were having fun! And I wish you would let yourself out like that a little more often, without the influence of those beers.”

  “I know Jims. I’m trying.”

  We smile at each other as I put my hair up and continue to wait at the bar.

  I order a beer and the bartender brings me the bottle. I go to hand him my money and he waves it away, pointing to a guy down at the end of the bar. “It’s already been paid
for.”

  Huh. That is the first time this has ever happened to me. Normally guys buy Jenna and “her friend” a drink. Never has anyone bought one just for me. I look back in the direction of the anonymous benefactor to say thanks and he is gone.

  I turn to Jimmy who smiles big, “I told you it pays to let your hair down!” We laugh and step away from the bar when I feel someone’s hand on my arm. I turn around and it is the guy who bought me my beer. And he is gorgeous! I mean like I-must-be-pretty-drunk-right-now-and-have-impaired-vision-because-it-is-impossible-for-any-guy-to-be-this-gorgeous, gorgeous.

  “Hey! I saw you dancing out there. You looked like you were having fun!” he yells over the music. I can barely make out what he is saying it is so loud in here.

  “I was having fun! And thank you for the drink!” I say smiling and gesturing to my beer.

  “Your welcome! I’m Mike!"

  He puts his hand out and returns my smile with one of the most charming smiles I have ever seen. He has kept eye contact and only glanced at my boobs once. So far he is a mile ahead of every other guy I have ever met.

  I finally take a second to really look at him. He has a perfect smile and in this light it looks like his eyes are a smooth honey brown. I could stare at them forever. He has light brown hair that I want run my fingers through and tug on while he kisses me all over. He is tall and I can see that underneath his clothes has to be one of the nicest bodies I will ever see, if he lets me get him naked… Wait! What? What am I thinking?! Must be the beer. Yeah. The beers…

  My heart is racing and at this point I realize I don’t know how long it has been since he introduced himself. He is still standing with his hand out in front of him, but with an even bigger smile on his face than before. I realize it is probably because I have been standing here checking him out. Like obviously looking him up and down. Practically gaping at him. Yes, that’s right people. Gaping. I am not exaggerating. Wide open, shut your trap or you’ll catch flies, gaping. I am so embarrassed.