The Art of Salsa Dancing

[Praline Kline]

What's in name? One girl could tell you. On December 1st, 1989, at 5 am, Martha Kline sat in a hospital bed in California next to her husband Joe, holding her new baby girl and all doped up on pain medication. Since the happy couple had chosen not to know the gender of their new bouncing baby bundle, they pondered over a name that would perfectly suit their sweet baby girl.

"It's perfect. I love it."

Years later, her mother would tell her it was because she wanted to give her daughter a name that was the epitome of all things sweet and sugary. Her father would tell her it was because her mother was addicted to the stuff during a pregnancy. But despite the reason they named their child, and I swear, Praline. You know, a confection made of nut kernels, especially almonds or pecans, stirred in boiling sugar syrup until crisp and brown. Usually stuffed inside a chocolate truffle. Yeah, Praline. Personally, she thought it was the drugs her mother was on to cope with the pains of giving birth that accounted for her significant lapse in judgment when naming her first born. But, whatever the cause, it was her name, and she was stuck with it. In fact, she grew to love it. It was original, and fun, a great conversation starter and reasonably, she couldn’t picture herself with any other name than that one. Plus, she loved the occasional reaction she got when she extended her hand and said “Hi, my name’s Praline.”

From there, people usually went on to ask what her sibling’s names were. Brownie? Twinkie? Pez? Actually, she only had one, fairly new, sibling. And his name was Conner. It’s worth mentioning that her mother had chosen to have a natural birth this time, without drugs, and he got a perfectly normal name…Martha and Joe Kline were pretty normal names to. So is it any wonder that the daughter with the out-of-place name is different than the other cookie-cutter people in the family. It’s like that game that little kids play “One of these things is not like the other…” and she was it. It wasn’t just the fact that her name was pretty crazy in itself, or the fact that her banana-blonde hair didn’t come from the gene pool of either parent (the were both brunettes). Oh no, it went much deeper than that.

“You’re special, Miss Kline…” the Dean of Hawthorne Academy had told her when he first set up an interview with her family.

“No shit,” She snorted, and immediately regretted it. The guy wasn’t one to mess with.

“I’m serious.” And he was. “You’re parents think you are going to a school for gifted, intelligent students, and that is the pretence you will follow when talking to them about it. I don’t believe they’d be as…accepting as we’d have hoped. Do you understand?”

Thus were the circumstances at which Praline Kline found herself at the Hawthorne Academy. Why? Because as the Dean had so graciously put it, she was special. She was different. At least she was in the real world. I mean, how many normal people do you know that have the ability to project illusions and images onto the eyes of others? An Illusionist is what professors called her, but personally she though that made her sound like some corny magician with a wand and cape. But it did describe her situation perfectly.

When she was seven, Praline had wanted a pony. What little girl didn’t? But Praline didn’t ask for a pony. She thought it. She pictured it, and boom, there it was in front of not only her eyes, but her father’s as well. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t tangible. And her mother couldn’t even see it. She had conjured the image before her father’s eyes for a brief moment, long enough for him to question it and have Martha Kline insist that he stop yard work right away and come inside for a lie down. The heat was obviously going to his head. But it didn’t stop there. When you come into powers at such a young age, and are blessed enough to realize what they are, you can hone them, practice and learn. Now, at sixteen, Praline was skilled enough, that the Dean was worried. If she wanted someone to fall off a cliff, all she had to do was cast the illusion of a bridge, and with one step they would tumble down to their doom. Not that she would, but it was a dangerous power that the Dean felt needed to be kept under surveillance. Plus, he had hinted that if she got good enough, she could be quite a powerful asset to the Team.

“That is, if you can truly learn the magnitude and responsibility of your gift.”

Yeah yeah. That was nice and all, but as things were she was quite content with using her power play pranks. She wasn’t ready for responsibility like that, and she knew it. She was perfectly satisfied with spending her weekends on her butt watching I love Loucy Marathons, running on the soccer field, or hitting the streets of Manhattan

Which was exactly what she was doing Saturday evening.

Throwing on a Donde estan mis pantalones? t-shirt and a jean skirt, Praline escaped the campus in favor of the city life. It wasn't california but it would have to do.

"Yeah, um, I'd like two quesidillas with everything on them." She had slipped into a popular Mexican joint, sitting at a table for two by herself. She drummed her fingers, feeling restless. She had come out to have fun, damn it.

A live salsa music had started up, and without a second thought, she was up, making her way toward the dance floor. Most on the floor were couples, but she didn't mind. Guys flocked toward her and she danced near them, swinging her hips in time to the mariaci.

"Ariba!" She yelled over the music, laughing as a guy took her hand and pun her around.

"Ay ay ay!" She dipped and bopped, glad to be out of the confines of the stuffy school walls.

["Perfection" AKA "Arrow"]

Perfection. What was it? Why, ask Greg Larren, and he'd tell you himself. Yes, he was perfect. And had the ego to boot. He had the dreamy blonde hair, the deep green eyes, perfect body, brains, height, money. He had it all. Especially the ego. Which was what had screwed his excellent chances of becoming one of The Team. Yes, you heard me right, he could have been a part of The special 10 who got to go around saving the world.

Oh, I almost forgot to mention. Greg was, well, he was a superhero. He had the wonderful power of being able to shoot arrows from a bow at extremely fast speeds with extreme accuracy. Came in handy at camp when he was a kid. Although, the councelers began to think he was on something. Which led to tests upon tests upon tests. Eventually the dean from Hawthorne Academy found him and told his parents he was being accepted to an amazing school for gifted individuals. So what was Greg's reaction?

"I'm special? Wow. I never could have guessed it."

Yes. He was somewhat egotistical when it came to...well, him. He was perfect and knew it. Well, moving on to the present day, four years after the dean found Arrow.

Where was he? Well, at the moment, he was drinking a bottle of what looked like water. Knowing Arrow though, it probably wasn't. It was most likley some kind of alcohol. Not the point. He took a small swig of it and closed the bottle and lyed it on his bed. He sighed slightly and wandered over to his closet. He pulled out a pair of blue jeans and a button-up shirt. He buttoned it up until there were three left open. Hey, like I said, he was egotistical.

He sat on his bed in his dorm for a little while before he decided to go out on the town. Manhattan was definatley where he liked to be. Walking around, out at some club, dancing with some hot chick. That was where his scene was. He wandered out to a popular Mexican resturant and ordered a Carne Asada Burrito with Sour Cream and went over to a table. He sat his drink down and looked out on the floor. There were tons of guys surrounding a banana blonde haired girl who seemed to be teasing them. Arrow looked closer. He had seen her around school. If she wanted him though, she'd have to go to him. He wasn't going to look desperate. That wasn't Arrow. Not at all...

((Sorry if its crap. I'm short on time and suffering a small bout of writer's block.))

[Praline Kline]

Trading dance partners, she swayed her hips with a Mexican man who was most like gay. But he was a great dancer, and she loved to dance.

“You salsa?” He asked, spinning her around.

“Si!” She laughed, moving her feet quickly to keep up with the music.

Turning faster and faster, she smiled. She always felt most comfortable on the dance floor. Or the soccer field. So long as she was moving, she was having fun. By this point, most of the floor had cleared save a few dancing couples, and onlookers watched as she and Mr. Rico Suave cha-cha-cha’d. He grabbed the small of her back, supporting her and lowering her into a dip, her hair grazing the floor. At this point, her butt was about to fall off from all the dancing, but she could care less. This was where she belonged. But it couldn’t last forever. The song ended, and people started clapping for the band, and for the dancers. She bowed dramatically, giving her partner a hug.

“Save me another dance.” She smiled, walking over to her table where she scarfed down a slice of quesidilla and kicked off her heels. She was going to head back out to the dance floor, but without shoes this time.

A waitress walked up to her, presenting her with a martini on a tray. “From the gentlemen.” She pointed to the bar where a man who was going through a mid-life-crisis sat and waved. She waved back, not to be rude, but declined the drink. She had promised herself not to drink. Ever. Alcohol trashed your brain and made you do stupid things. Besides, it was a depressant, not an upper. And there was no way Praline was going to go through life depressed. Besides, her grandfather had been an alcoholic, and her parents shunned him. He was a blemish to the family name. Although she loved her Grandad Joe, she knew from his mistake not to take up drinking. Instead, she took a sip from the water bottle she had brought with her. Life lesson # 27 from her mother. Always bring your own drink with you to clubs; you never know what people will spike to “liven” up a party.

Praline stood, ready to head back over to the dance floor when she saw someone looking at her. He was handsome, she’d have to give him that. But, almost fake. He had the same hair and eyes as most other model-type boys that went to Hawthorne. In fact, he looked familiar. Was he in one of her classes? She didn’t have time to ponder on this because she was soon met by the charming smile of one of the waiters off duty. They had danced together before, seeing as she was a regular customer, and she was more than giddy to be back on her feet. He took her hand, leading her toward the floor, her hips already moving.

“Joel! How great to see you! I thought your brake wasn’t for another twenty minutes!” She smiled, dancing close to him.

“I made Robert switch me! I was afraid you’d leave.” He smiled, grabbing her hand and twisting her around.

“Woo! Really though? Me? Leave? The night is young! And so am I! I couldn’t resist.” She laughed, turning in his arms again.

Spinning around, she saw the boy again. He was still looking at was bold enough not to avert his eyes.

“Um…I’ll be right back, Joel.” She pushed out of his embrace, knowing he wouldn’t be too upset. She and Joel were friends, nothing more.

Stepping purposefully toward the guy, Praline stopped in front of his table, a smirk forming on her lips.

“Enjoying the show? I can’t help but notice that you’re staring. Can I help you?” She placed her hands on her hips defiantly, challenging this guy and his audacity.

["Perfection" AKA "Arrow"]

Arrow watched as the song ended but she stayed on the floor. Another man whom she seemed to have known fairly well walked to her. She seemed excited about him being here. Must be together. He watched as she continued to dance and spotted him. This could turn either for the worst or the best. He hadn't quite decided yet. Probably for the best. I mean, he was perfect after all. Who wouldn't want him?

"Enjoying the show?..."

Why yes...why do you ask?

"...I can’t help but notice that you’re staring...."

Staring? No...more like watching, but yes.

"...Can I help you?"

A dance would be nice. After you've finished where you are of course.

He thought along with her statements and questions all the while keeping his charming smile plastered upon his face. Yes, he definatley had seen this girl at the school. Which ment she had some sort of power. But that was not the point at the moment. Unless her power was of mind control...this girl and all of her dancing had proven to Arrow that he could possibly see himself with her. But, alas, none of that mattered at the moment. He brought himself to nod before opening his mouth to reveal the pompus, arrogant, egotistical -ness that was Arrow. Well, not in his most egotistical form, but nonetheless.

"Why yes. I was enjoying the show. I'd pay, but I'm out of money. And staring? I'd rather call it watching. Can you help me? Of course you can. After you've thrown this man to the wayside like you did all of the others, I'd love a dance with you."

He said simply, all the while carrying that charming smile that made him who he was. Well, other than the perfection...not the point. He watched and waited for her answer a while longer.

((Horrible crap...*sigh* Sorry...))

[Molly Hunt]

-pops in-
will post later and will give the arrow an earful
-snicks-
just can't right now. is swamped.

[Praline Kline]

Praline actually felt her mouth drop open. Who was this guy? Sure, he was hot. Yeah, whatever, but he was also very egotistical, which cancelled out the hotness factor. He smirked at her, in that thingyy "I-know-I'm-hot-you-can't-resist-me" way that so many other guys had. Did people like him seriously think that they could get girl's that way? Certainly not Praline. She choked back her laughter as she realized how serious he was. Wow. So the first thing she had to ask was, how do I deal with this guy? Slap him in the face? No, he was probably used to that. Use her power on him? It would be funny to cast the mirage to turn him ugly, but since she didn't know what his power was, and how he would counter, she didn't want to risk it. So, how do you respond to a guy who clearly had a serious case of Narcissus complex? She chose a witty response.

"Well, you see, I would, but I have a feeling you're ego would take up the entire dance floor. It's a shame, really. Because you're cute." She shrugged, leaving him with that thought.

Turning on her heel, she marched back over to her table where the rest of her quesidilla's sat. She felt somewhat disappointed. It was a shame to see someone so good-looking go to waste because of his ego. Maybe she had judged him to quickly. She looked back over, and he was still staring at her. Or maybe she had judged him perfectly. What? Did she have something caught in her teeth? Why, in heaven's name, was he still staring?

Curious, she matched his stare with one of her own, her piercing green eyes boring into him. And then...wham! She couldn't help it. She was focusing very hard on staring him down when the image of her dancing with him popped into her head. Damn. She shook her head, knowing she had casted the illusion of them on the dance floor. Where had that come from? And as quickly as it was there, it vanished. Great, now the guy probably thought she was merely playing hard to get.

Sighing heavily, she turned her back to him, adding more hot sauce to her quesidilla. Manhattan did not know how to spice their food. Try a week in California with her father, the Chef with half of his tastebuds burned off, and then talk to her about spicy. Joe Kline had lost most of his sense of taste by burning his tongue one too many times in college while making concauctions in his dorm. And now, since he couldn't himself taste how spicy he made his food, what he thought was mild was really jalepeno hot. And that suited her just fine.

Smiling at the memory, she bit into her meal, watching more dancers take the floor. This was heaven. Mexican food, dancing and being on the town. True perfection.

-short...-
sorry if it's hard to respond to.

["Perfection" AKA "Arrow"]

Arrow simply watched as the girl walked back over to her seat across the room and sat. He kept his eyes upon her, knowing that she would eventually stop playing hard-to-get and come over and dance. Yes. Hard-to-get. That was what she was doing. Arrow never realized it as being denied. He was way too dense to do that. The ladies liked to play hard-to-get. Or so he thought. He smiled as she began to glare back at him.

Woah! What was that? For a second or two there, he could have sworn he saw the two of them dancing! What? How...? She? The look on his face turned to one of shock or suprise and then it hit him. Thats right Arrow, you're a quick one. She did have powers. She was from their school. She could cast images. He smiled smuggly as she turned her back to him. He'd approach her in a few minutes. But for now, time to finish his burrito.

Mmmm. Yummy. Okay, all done. He smiled and stood once more. Arrow walked his egotistical ass over to that banana blonde and smiled as he took a seat across from her at the same table. So, how was Arrow going to play this one? Why it was simple, he'd tell her he knew. He saw it. It was no illusion. It was what she wanted. Yes. That would work. It had to work.

"Why hello there Miss. So, that 'illusion' of us dancing. Its what you actually want to do, yes? Once again, I wouldn't mind a dance. From what I could see, you are a mighty fine dancer. We'd be perfect as a dancing couple."

He said, all the while retaining that smile of his. He couldn't help it if he was hot and she couldn't resist him. Yes, he hadn't retained a word of the insult she had thrown at him earlier. Well, other than the part that boosted his ego.

-Man, this is getting horrible...sorry for the increasingly crappy posts. Its a bajillion degrees here and I'm not allowed to swim. I'm going to the lake tommorow...that always boosts my creativity. Hopefully it will work.Sorry again...-

[Praline Kline]

Nothing could spoil a meal like this She thought, biting into the messy food yet again. Nothing. except-

Except him. Mr. Ego himself. What was he doing there? Sitting across from her, all smug like. Oh, wait, right. Her illusion. Is that what he was rambling about? She surpressed a scoff and stared at him. The audacity. The nerve. Then again, her illusion probably had been misleading. She should put him down gently. Should.

"Excuse me?" She tilted her head at him once she was done chewing.

She looked at him. He was still smiling. She wondered how many girl's he'd made melt with that smile. She would've been the same, if she didn't know what a creep he was. It made her skin crawl, really. He had a freeky stalker vibe.

"I thought I already said no. And that illusion...well I don't really know what that was, but the answer's still no." She sighed, grabbing her water bottle and taking a quick sip.

He was still sitting there. Still smiling. Oh, how she hated that smile. It was alluring and a turn off at the same time. She shook her head, finding herself staring at his mouth. No! He's a creep! she looked down at her plate, trying to clear her mind. And when I look up...he'll be gone. Wrong. He was still sitting there. A really really cute creep... She found herself looking at him again. He had the most shocking eyes and bone structure, and she knew that she would be flirting with him like crazy if it hadn't been for his ego.

"Look, what do I have to do to make you leave me alone?" She had a hunch, and immidiately regretted her words.

-equal suckage. its ok-

["Perfection" AKA "Arrow"]

What did she have to do? Well, he thought she was cute. So...well, a real date would be good, but Arrow had the feeling that was not going to happen. He pretended to be pondering for a while before looking her dead in the eyes. She had beautiful eyes. That was for sure. He opened his perfect mouth and smiled as he said something.

"Well, the dance I've asked for twice already would be nice."

He looked at her with those perfect green eyes. She'd agree eventually. Not only was he really, really ridiculously good looking, but he was persistant. And for her to say she didn't know what that illusion was was a complete and utter lie.

[Praline Kline]

That damn dance. Man, this guy was persistant. Praline rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her water bottle. If she hadn't been so digusted with him, she would've been perfectly enthralled in his great green eyes that matched her own. But was he actually verging on begging, here? He had asked her what, three times now, to dance. Sure, she was a good dancer. But she didn't know she wasthat good. I mean really. Sighing, she placed the cap back on her water bottle, and matched his stare.

"So if I dance with you, will you go away?" She said, knowing that her tone was rude. It was a tone that most people hated to be on the end of, and would drive most guys away if they knew what was good for them.

But not this guy. He just raised his eyebrows at her and nodded. How could she resist a face like that? No! No no no! One dance to get him to go, then bye-bye. She nodded, clearing her head. This should be interesting. But no way was this going to turn into a date. She had already eaten, so it wasn't like he could ask her out to dinner afterward, and she hated coffee. And for sure, if he even thought about asking her if he could buy her a drink, she would hurl.

1. That would be the cheesiest pick up line and she would have to be forced to send out a message to all her friends that, despite his model good looks, he did not know how to romance a girl.

2.She didn't drink. Plain and simple.

One dance? I can handle one dance...

"Alright..." She sighed before breaking the stare. Standing, she walked back toward the dance floor, presuming he would follow. She swayed her hips and guys flocked to her again, and she didn't push them away. If he really wanted to dance with her he wouldn't let the other guys bother him. She wanted to have fun, and at this point, with or without that guy would suit her just fine.

["Perfection" AKA "Arrow"]

Arrow smiled as she reluctantly agreed to dance. She'd want him after they were finished. She had to. He was just that good. Yup. Man, could she dance. He stood as she walked away and was flocked by guys. He raised an eyebrow at this and pushed his way in to her. He smiled, looking down on her as the two of them began to dance.

His mind raced as to what he could ask her to do after they were finished. He wouldn't ask for a drink..he was pretty sure she wouldn't drink and had been turned down way too many times then denyed altogether after asking that. She had already ate, he couldn't ask her that. He didn't like coffee, so that was not going to happen. He smiled an idea forming in his mind. How about a walk in the park? Oh, man, that's a good one.

He leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"So, after this dance, how about we go and take a walk? I personally don't drink coffee, otherwise I'd ask you to that."

((Ewwwww! Its so short. *pout* Sorry love...))