“You’re wonderful for two months!” he calls back as he pulls me into a turn. He seems to be having fun even though he’s guiding me through steps like you’d help a wobbly child on a bicycle.
At the end of the dance, I’m feeling a bit better about myself. “Thank you,” I say with a grin. “You helped me get over my fear of getting out there.”
“Dion,” he says, holding out his hand.
“Laura.”
“You’re a natural, Laura.”
We shake hands, and when I return back to the wall, I see Ben, Helen, and a newly arrived Jody watching me. None of them speak as I approach.
“What?”
Helen shakes her head as Jody opens her mouth and closes it before she finally gets the words out. “You know he’s ranked number one in the country.”
“What?” I turn and look after the man, who is now walking through the space greeting people.
Even Ben is amused. “So let me get this straight. For your first time social dancing at your first competition, you asked Dion Reyes to dance.”
“Oh my God.” I cover my face. “I didn’t recognize him. I thought he was standing alone because he was new!”
Jody cackles. “He was standing alone because everyone is too intimidated to ask him to dance!”
“I asked him if he knew how to lead!” My face warms as everyone doubles over with laughter.
I lean back against the wall as Jody continues to shake her head at me. Then I see her notice someone, and I follow her gaze to Téa, standing across the room chatting with someone.
“Are you going to ask her to dance?” I nudge Jody.
Jody shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know. We had a date this week that went okay, but...” Jody sighs.
“You had a date? That’s great.”
“Okay, fine. You’re right. Fine. I’ll go.” Jody pushes herself away from the wall wearily.
Helen and I smile at each other as we watch Jody cross the room. Right then I catch sight of Ollie. He is looking at me from across the dance floor, standing near Eliana, who has just arrived and is wearing a bright yellow outfit. He looks different, and I realize that he has shaved his beard entirely. He looks handsome without the beard, his chin sharply sculpted. I wonder if the loss of the beard is Eliana’s doing and then wonder whether it is for competition reasons or to suit Eliana’s personal preference. Not a useful thought at all.
He is staring at me like I’m the only person in the room, though, and for a moment, I can barely hear the music, barely notice anything but his look.
Helen leans over to me. “Ollie was watching you the whole time you were dancing with Dion.”
I shrug. “Well, it doesn’t really matter,” I say, “because he’s not going to do anything about it.”
When I look back at him, though, he is walking straight toward me. I watch him cross the room, making as much of a beeline as he can without interfering with the whirling dancers. My heart does a small flip, which annoys me. I am angry at him. No flipping allowed.
When he finally nears me, he leans close. “Hey,” he says in my ear over the music. “Can I talk to you outside for a second?”
“Sure.”
My chest feels fluttery as we walk outside the ballroom into the lobby space, which is mostly empty aside from some dancers from the under-eighteen group twirling for each other to show off their brightly colored skirts. I feel a familiar rush just from standing near him again, the magnet-level attraction that I haven’t felt since high school. I can see his lips better without the beard, the way the lower lip is slightly fuller, and that’s not a helpful thought either. My brain isn’t behaving.
“You looked really great out there,” he says intensely. I can’t tell what his emotion is. Guilt? Embarrassment? Not jealousy, as much as I wish it was.
“It’s hard not to look great with such a great partner,” I say honestly. I don’t even mean it as a dig, but Ollie frowns.
“Listen,” he says, “I’m competing here with my old partner Eliana. I uh…I should have told you about that. I don’t want you to think I got back together with her. She just needed someone for this one weekend.” He is looking at me very sincerely, like heearnestly wants me to believe him. But why would it matter, at this point?
“It’s okay, Ollie.” I take a breath, avoiding the intense eye contact and fixing my gaze on the group of teenagers nearby in their twirly 1950s dresses. “I heard about it at Manhattan Swing a few weeks ago.” His jaw tenses a little.
