Could I Have This Dance?

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The stifling heat of the crowded gymnasium stood out in sharp contrast to the biting cold just outside the doors. People were milling around, some with an air of confidence and purpose, but most of us just looked confused.  I certainly was.  Abby grabbed my arm as I stopped to stare just inside the doorway, not just because by the look in my eyes she probably thought I was going to turn and run away, but because there were still others behind us trying to get in.

            I let Abby lead me to a set of metal bleachers at the far end of the room where several other very nervous-looking girls sat.  We took off our hats, scarves, mittens,  winter coats, sweatshirts, boots, and the first two layers of socks.  By the time we were finished we each had a decent pile of winter clothing at our feet.

            "How'd I let you talk me into this again?" I asked Abby, staring unbelievably at the few couples already dancing to the soft music barely audible above the roar of the crowd gathered.

            "Because you want to try this as much as I do, you are just too shy." Abby smoothed her silky skirt and stood. "Come on, it looks like they're about to start."

            I didn't have a skirt to smooth, so I straightened my shirt instead as I stood and walked, by myself this time, lining up with all the other girls on the north side of the gym.  I centered my stocking feet in the middle of the "I" in University, and tried not to look intimidated.  I was sure that at least half of the girls on either side of me were feeling the same way.

            The instructor strode to the empty middle of the floor, carrying herself with such poise and grace it seemed as if she were already dancing.  The woman, a compact redhead with long legs that were not quite proportional to the rest of her, and a smile that seemed pasted on, was speaking into her headset. "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Ballroom Dance Club's beginner class. Today we will be learning the waltz. Will my demonstrators please step forward?"

            From amidst the sea of terrified men on the other end of the gym, he appeared.  His arms already held out wide, in a sort of welcome, he floated more than strode to the center of the room. His black leather shoes barely made a sound as he approached the petite blonde waiting with a smile.  He flashed her a charming grin, then offered his left hand to her. She took three confident steps forward on the silver heels, settled her right hand in his, and wrapped her left over his right arm already placed on her back.

            "Music please." The music started and off they went, bending and gliding as if through a liquid, so fluid it was as if they might flow away at any time.  His dark eyes gazed over his partner's shoulder, never stopping to rest on a single person. I don't believe he even saw any of us.  He seemed lost in another place, another time.  The instructor was pointing out something, and I felt a tug on my arm as Abby leaned over to whisper something about Prince Charming, but I didn't quite hear.

            The song ended and applause broke out.  The young man and lady each took a gracious bow, and stepped off the floor. The instructor called us to partner up and try dancing ourselves.  My partner, a graying man wearing a blue polo that was already partially soaked with sweat, was not the picture that had come to my mind when Abby brought up dancing.

            "Introduce yourselves to your partners."

            "Hi, I'm Jerry," my partner smiled a yellow grin, and I mumbled, "Bri, pleasure."  I looked around for Abby, who somehow had managed to end up with the demonstration guy.

            Jerry offered me a hand. His hand was clammy as I placed mine in it, and his grip was a little too tight.

            "1...2...3." The instructor counted off the beats as we all started shuffling our feet back, side, together, forward, side, together.

            My partner almost lurched forward on the first beat one. On the second, he stepped on my foot.

            "Oops, sorry about that. First time."

            I mumbled a "forget it" and turned my head in time to catch a glimpse of Abby gracefully gliding into a dip in her partner's arms. I stood straighter and tried to be as graceful as I could whilst still sidestepping every time Jerry began a step forward with his wrong foot.

            Finally the song ended, and we were instructed to change partners. My next partner looked about my age, with dark hair too long for a guy's and a slightly devilish grin.  He was quick to get me in his arms, into a frame so loose I felt I was holding him up.  He was always slightly behind the beat, and moved like he was not quite sure of his next step, but his feet moved quicker than his head could.  He was trying too hard to start up a conversation, and it caused both of us to stumble.

            After him were two more middle-aged men, a boy who barely came up to my shoulders and couldn't have been much older than sixteen, and a tall, lanky man who only needed a red ball nose to play a clown, but who was surprisingly smooth and graceful while dancing.  I was beginning to feel confident in my waltz until I switched to dance with Scott.

            Scott was a tall, handsome blonde, with a nose that stuck prominently out over my head, literally and figuratively.  I had to ask three times before he finally announced his name.  He was a firm lead whose blue looked around while dancing like he was bored with life, and was quite intolerant of any mistakes. Anytime I stepped with the wrong foot, or moved too early or late, or even rotated a little more than he had planned, he stopped, gave me a glare that could have made a lion cower, then started up again with a "hmph."  He was like a puppeteer, and me a puppet with twisted strings.  My confidence was quickly swept away as I struggled to dance with him.

            He was willing and ready to pass me off as the instructor called to switch partners again, and I was willing and ready to go.

This went on for almost the whole hour, me trying to keep the beat, avoid being stepped on, and look as graceful as I possibly could, all the while rotating closer and closer to the guy I had seen dancing at the beginning of class. Eventually, there was just one more partner between me and him, and the instructor called for the end of class. I was devastated.

            I began to walk towards the bleachers when I felt a tap on my arm. I turned and there he was. "Can I have this dance?" He smiled, a graciously handsome grin, as he offered me his hand.

            "I thought class was over?" I confusedly placed my hand in his as the music started up again.

            Slowly, we glided around the nearly empty floor.  I was no longer in the crowded university gymnasium, with every spin the room turned more into an elegant ballroom.  I felt like I was floating, dancing like I had been doing it my whole life.

            I was terribly disappointed when the song came to an end and he let go of me, but with a wink he promised me a dance next week.  As I ran to get dressed, I realized that before the dance with him I hadn't even planned on coming the next week. But now, after, I was going to dance as much as I could.

Comments (1)

Posted by jt conner 05-01-2008 16:34,   ... Overall I thought it was good, but I think it could have had the potential of being a short series, which, of course, it still can be.   » Report this comment to administrator » Reply to this comment...

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