11
IN COMPETITION
On the trainback to Brooklyn that evening, I think about everyone I danced with tonight: the national champion Dion, and affectionate, sarcastic Jody, and sweet, newly sexy Ben. It feels like I danced with everyone but Ollie.
Ollie, who apologized for not telling me about Eliana.
Ollie, who thought I would get back together with Nick?
I don’t know whether to feel furious or depressed. Furious, I decide. Enraged. He said he wasn’t testing me, but the fact that it was his first question suggests the exact opposite.
And his apology to me for dancing with Eliana? His assumption that I would care? I mean, of course I cared, but why bother? What exactly was he sorry for?
When I get back to my apartment, I vow to think about anything else but him, but I immediately break that vow to watch dance videos online, trying to figure out the identities of everyone from Helen’s summary of ‘the drama.’ I watch the handsome champion Dion and his partner Paula. I watch some old videos of Ollie with Eliana, and then I watch more recent videos of Connor with Eliana, and Hugo Persson with Yukka (Connor’s new partner), and even an old low-res video of Connor from high school, dancing with his first partner Sarah.
They are all so good that it makes me not want to show up the next day.
I am not going to quit dancing.
My schedulefor Saturday is full. An Intro to Lindy Hop Workshop. The Newcomers Jack & Jill competition, where I will be cheering on Ben and Helen. The Novice Jack & Jill competition, where Jody and I will compete. Then the champion-level West Coast pairs doing their pre-choreographed routines, when I will have to decide if I can stomach watching Eliana and Ollie dance.
And then another social night, if I’m up for it after my heart gets stomped into little pieces.
No problem, I tell myself. This’ll be fun.
When I arrive at the festival, I am clutching a bag with a cushion to sit on during competition viewings and a back-up dancing outfit. I remember that if I do really well in the Novice competition, then on Sunday, I will get a chance to dance with one of the Champions. There’s a chance I could dance with Ollie in the Novice/Champion Jack & Jill. I’m not sure if I still want that or not.
The Lindy Hop workshop is more fun than I expected. I first fell in love with West Coast Swing because it is slow and sexy, but classic Lindy Hop is bubblier and faster, like you’re an excited teenager circling your partner on a trampoline. I decide I will definitely learn more swing styles, assuming I can survive this weekend.
One more victory achieved for my love of dance.
Next up is the Newcomers Jack & Jill competition where Ben and Helen will compete. The event takes place in a smaller theater across the street from the main venue, in a large, air-conditioned space that can hold about twenty pairs and fortyobservers. This event is a group contest where the dancers wear numbers, rather than each couple competing one at a time. I adjust Ben’s number for him while we listen to the rules being explained. Dancers will get their partners’ numbers picked out of a hat, and then they will dance to two different styles of song together—a slow one and then a fast one.
The atmosphere is light-hearted and supportive. Everyone is applauding, people are laughing, and nobody seems too worried about the outcome. Only Ben looks stressed.
“Why the hell did I let you talk me into this?”
“It’ll be fun,” I say. “Now go be sexy.”
Ben’s partner for the dance turns out to be a sweet, round-faced young woman who looks extremely nervous, and the first song that gets picked is a Frank Sinatra song. Jody is sitting next to me, and we give each other a quick look of alarm, hoping this was not one of the wedding tunes Ben had to suffer through in an attempt to please his future in-laws. But Ben just grins, puts out a hand to the woman, and begins.
He is not great. He is stiff and nervous, but somewhere in the middle of the song, he starts to gain a little confidence and move with the music. I see a little of the Ben from the biker bar emerging. By the end, he gives her a fun turn or two, and I recall Ollie’s comment that everything can be taught except a complete lack of rhythm. Ben has rhythm. He even ends the song with a polished little mini dip. Meanwhile, Helen has been dancing with a very tall, enthusiastic leader, and seems to be having a great time.
Jody and I applaud enthusiastically as Ben flashes us a smile. At the end of the event, Ben and Helen don’t rank in the top three, but neither of them seems too upset about it. No one at the Newcomers level is going to be competing again this weekend; the event is designed to give people their first competition experience.
“A Frank Sinatra song,” I say to Ben quietly as we head out.
“Hey, I’m an expert,” he replies. “I feel like I just did the first dance at my wedding, but I was being judged way less harshly.” I wonder if this is the happiest, most relaxed that I’ve ever seen Ben.
I’m not feeling happy and relaxed.
My own competition is coming up, and I feel a brief flash of jealousy for Ben and Helen. At least their time in front of a crowd is over; now they can enjoy the weekend without a hovering threat of public embarrassment. But what am I so scared of? All I’m going to do is dance in front of a crowd of observers as part of a big group. How bad can it be?
What makes it better—and worse—is my discovery that Dion Reyes, my old pal and national champion, is acting as the host for the Novice competition. I glance at Jody as we wait for our partners. Then I look around nervously, wondering if Ollie will be there, but I don’t see him.
Of course not. Why would he come watch me?
Before I know it, the pairs are on the floor. Jody is paired with a tall woman who looks like a good match for Jody’s assertive but warm style. I am facing a handsome, dark-haired man who greets me with a grin. Our song turns out to be a Taylor Swift classic. I quickly realize that my partner is extremely good for someone calling himself a “Novice” dancer, and after a couple of moves, I start to relax. I miss one move he attempts, but it doesn’t seem like a disaster. At least we are doing an interpretation of the song, picking up things in the music to express.
