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“Hey, Dylan,” she greeted in return with a sweet smile.
I signaled to the bartender and ordered a bottle of Dos Equis before we made our way over to a table where we sat together in a dark corner of the room, just off the dance floor area.
Taking a swig of my beer, I looked around the room to see what the possibilities were. I was starting to think this might be a bad idea that could end up ruining any chances I might have with Zia. Then again, a little jealousy could work out in my favor.
“So how do we do this?” I asked.
“To start with, look around the room and tell me which girls you would normally be attracted to,” Zia instructed.
Here we go. This could be awkward, but you shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, right?
I looked around, making my assessment, until I decided on some girls I saw standing by the bar. They were dressed in some brightly colored shirts and accessories, lots of curves and cleavage, and skirts they wouldn’t want to bend over in. They were all laughing, talking with each other, and looked like they were enjoying themselves. They’d probably already had a little too much to drink, even with it being this early in the night.
“Honestly…” I looked at her and then pointed my chin in the girls’ direction.
She looked at the girls, then back at me with an expression that said she knew something I didn’t know.
“You notice those girls because they’re trying so hard to be noticed,” she explained. Then she pointed over in another direction. “What about those girls on the dance floor, dancing with each other?”
I looked at the girls she pointed out, taking the time to notice that, while they were dressed a little more comfortably and a little less flashy than the girls I had first pointed out, they were both attractive. They looked a lot more down-to-earth, if I was being honest.
“Yeah, now that you mention it, they’re cute,” I admitted. “But what makes you think they’re any different from the other girls over there?”
“Because these girls are probably here because they love to dance. Because they have an interest in something and they do it for themselves. Not because they want to please someone else. They just show more self-confidence. They don’t have to bare all their goods to come out here and have the time of their life,” Zia explained.
I nodded as I took in what she said, wondering how she could gather all of that about people she didn’t know. I realized that she made sense.
Zia told me to ask one of them to dance, but I laughed it off, telling her I didn’t think so.
“What? Why not? You can’t go to the salsa club and not dance. That’s against the rules,” she informed me, smiling but pretending to be offended.
“I’ve never salsa danced before. I can’t just go out there making a fool of myself like I know what I’m doing,” I explained. I wasn’t about to divulge anything about my practice sessions in front of my bedroom mirror the previous night.
“Alright, alright. I’m no dance instructor, but I can show you the basics. The extra you’ll have to make up as you go.” Zia stood up and held her hand out to me, which I took in mine as she led the way onto an empty space on the dance floor.
As we stood face to face, she grabbed my other hand, and the moment her fingers touched mine, I could feel electricity move through me from the point of contact like a shiver down my spine. I wondered if she felt it, too, but she didn’t skip a beat before moving on to the play-by-play instructions of the basics of the dance.
Once she finished the mini lesson, she said, “Let’s repeat that a few times until you feel comfortable with it, and remember, move your hips. Make it sexy. Your hands should always either be holding my hands or holding my body.”
She didn’t have to tell me that twice. I took advantage of the closeness while I had the chance, savoring the feel of her soft skin and the delicate curves of her body beneath my touch.
I felt like we were both really enjoying ourselves, and I was picking up the dance moves pretty quickly between Zia’s demonstration and looking around the room to see what other people were doing.
I had to admit I was having a great time. I wondered why I had never been salsa dancing before.
Finally after several songs, Zia said, “Let’s take a rest and get another drink so you can ask someone else to dance now.”
I wanted to protest, but after further thought, I decided to go with it and do what Zia wanted. I had to admit I was a little disappointed that we were having such a great time together, and she was still determined to set me up with some other girl. I was losing hope that being more than friends with her might ever be an option.
We went to the bar for another round of drinks, and then back to sit at our table where Zia had left her jacket and purse. It wasn’t lon
g before Zia pointed out one of the girls we’d observed dancing earlier, who was now standing alone by a table nearby. Zia urged me to ask the girl to dance, so I took another long sip of my beer before standing up to walk over to the girl.
“Hi, I’m Dylan. Would you like to dance?” I asked the girl as I held my hand out to her in offering.
The girl looked up at me, eyes wide with what looked like recognition, and she smiled. “I’m Bianca, and sure.”
She took my hand and we made our way to the floor.
