Snow It Up [Shake It Up]

chapter one

CeCe Jones plastered a fake smile on her face as she set down the Tres Leches Supreme, the smell wafting into her face. Her stomach was already flip-flopping around her abdomen from the pain throbbing in her head, so she hurried back to the counter, trying not to slip on the freshly washed floor, curtesy of the one and only Mr. Deuce Martinez. Ducking behind the counter, she found a spot on the ground that wasn't that dirty.

Her fingers ran through her red curls, trying to massage the headache away. There was a deep, searing pain behind her right eye and continuing to the back of her head, and her brain felt like it was thudding against her skull, trying to break free from the pain. All she wanted to do was snuggle deep into her bed, but she still had work to do, no matter how bad she was feeling. But that didn't mean she couldn't take a few minutes to herself . . . 

"CeCe? Are you okay?"

CeCe's head jerked up, rattling her brain just a tiny bit, not quite helping the pain. Deuce was looking at her with concern in his eyes, which was new. He had never looked at her like that in her time working at Crusty's. Maybe he did it secretly, which annoyed CeCe. She wasn't some pitiful creature that everyone needed to tread quietly around just because her best friend decided to go to college in a different town. She was CeCe Jones, for goodness' sake! She could take anything.

"Oh, you know, period things." Deuce looked at her with a horrified look. She forgot that she couldn't just talk about the female body with him like she used to do with Rocky. Giving him a half-hearted smile, she stretched slightly. He held his hand out, so she gladly took it. Once she was up, she wiped her black yoga pants off, making sure there weren't any crumbs on them. "I'm okay. Tired, but okay."

"It's almost closing time. Why don't you go home?"

CeCe reluctantly grinned at Deuce, the annoyance turning into a small dragon in the pit of her stomach. This was the worst thing of all: special treatment. For most of her high school life, she endured so much special treatment because she wasn't as smart as anyone else and because she was dyslexic. Familiar tendrils of anger flashed through her body when she thought back on that time. "Deuce, when did you go all soft on me?" she said.

Deuce laughed, shaking his head. "I didn't. I just care about you, CeCe."

"I'll be fine." CeCe took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm up for closing Crusty's with you later. Don't worry about me."

Deuce threw his hands up in the air, nearly hitting CeCe with one of his flying hands. She dodged out of his way, but it didn't look like Deuce even noticed how close he was to her. He said, "Whatever you want."

CeCe laughed silently, slowly shaking off her bad feelings as she shook her head at Deuce's retreating figure. She knew she should be grateful for Deuce, that she should be grateful for this job that he and his uncle so graciously allowed her to have, but there was nothing he, or this job, could do. There was nothing anyone could do about a silly little headache, one that probably stemmed from the bad feelings piling up behind her eyes and lodging in the deepest recesses of her mind. 

She was able to throw her hair back into a ponytail when a young boy handed her a small pizza, and she said a quiet thank you. She quickly walked out onto the sticky floor of the small pizza shop where Deuce didn't bother mopping, tiptoeing over to the table that asked for the pizza. She gently slid the pizza onto the table at the booth in the back of the pizza shop, giving the couple a quick smile. 

CeCe nearly froze in place, and a random busboy had to swerve out of her way. The familiar notes of a song she used to dance to on Shake It Up, Chicago! was playing from the jukebox that Deuce bought recently. All of the dance moves from that time flooded her brain, and her muscles screamed at her to start dancing. She was never that good at telling herself no.