Prologue/ Chapter 1
Zayn Malik knew it was an absolute horrible idea to spend his first day of his vacation walking the streets of London. People always found out about him, no matter how he looked. All he wanted when he stepped out at that October afternoon was a cuppa and sandwich from the local bakery and a glimpse of the dancer he always saw whenever he was out. The studio dancers movements always made Zayn smile no matter how crap his day was. He looked forward to coming on the bustling streets whenever he did.
Zayn shielded his face from the gusty winds and the fans as he walked down the road quickly with her cuppa. As he neared the studio his pace slowed down and he began to watch the girl through the windows dance. Even though there was no sound radiating due to the windows, Zayn found himself enjoying the current routine she was dancing too. Her body seemed to flow to whatever was playing inside the studio and that’s what made Zayn happy. He spent a good few minutes watching her dance and enjoying the fact the fans had lost him.
Aarti Amin spent her whole days at her studio. It was her home. She on occasions noticed a familiar boy who would watch her dance through the windows but never said anything. Today was different. The second she turned a bit, her eyes locked with his. She smiled a bit. Zayn froze on spot. He didn’t want to seem like a stalker. Avoiding her gaze he began move along the streets but Aarti had other plans. She ran out to the front door and thought of a way to approach him. A way of talking to him popped up in her head a few seconds later.
“That was contemporary dancing what you watched today. The week before it was Classical.” She called out, rubbing her hands to warm her up.
“Excuse me?” Zayn said turning around.
“Types of dances.”
“Oh.”
“Specific reason why you muster along the windows and watch me dance?” she asked, curiosity getting the best of her.
Zayn shrugged, “it fascinates me.”
“I’m glad. Are you a dancer? Other dancers get fascinated easily by others dancing.”
“I can’t dance to save my life. Therefore I watch.”
“Like a stalker.” Aarti mumbled to herself.
Zayn smiled small.
“I highly doubt that you can’t dance. Everyone is born a dancer.” Aarti said in a matter of a fact tone.
“Is that so?” Zayn smirked.
“Duh. I’m a dancer. Dancers know best.”
“Well Miss. Dancer, this boy isn’t Happy Feet.”
Aarti giggled at his reference. An idea popped into her head.
“I can get that dancer to come out.” Aarti stated.
“How so?”
“I teach kids how to dance. You seem easy to teach.”
“I’m twenty-one, its too late to learn how to do something.”
“Oh hey, that’s how old I am but if you can develop a habit in twenty one days, I’m sure I can teach you how to dance in twenty one days.”
“Is that a done deal Miss Dancer?” Zayn said cocking his eyebrows.
“I’m not spitting on my hand and shaking hands with you, if that what you’re trying to ensue. Six tomorrow evening in sweats, t-shirt, and of course a smile.”
Zayn smiled, “Tomorrow teach.”
Aarti returned the smile as she walked into the studio. Her movements became more flow full and her routine had much more energy in it as she repeated the moves over and over again. She couldn’t fathom why she wanted to teach this guy how to dance, what had gotten in her mind, but one thing she did know was that she was glad she asked.
