“I’m a nerd and took ballroom dancing as a college credit,” he confesses with a shy smile.
“Easy A?”
He chuckles. “Nope. The instructor made sure there wasn’t anything easy about it. To pass the class, we had to partner up and do an actual dance contest.”
“Whoa.”
“Yeah, but she said I had hips for salsa. Whatever that means.”
I glance down between us and see that as we step, his hips sway a little with each move. As if he’s a chained up dog who wants to run free.
Meanwhile, Colton and Brigette dance next to us. Brigette seems to be doing okay while Colton silently counts with his mouth open.
“There you go,” Brigette says. “You’re kind of getting it, but more flair.”
Colton tries, but he looks as if he’s got ants in his pants. I laugh, causing him to look over at me and step on Brigette’s toes.
“Damn it, can’t you two be serious?” She unhooks herself from him and grabs her toe.
“Sorry,” I say.
Two more couples come in. Mrs. Johnson says hello to them then comes over to us and puts her hands on my hips.
“More movement, Juno. Loosen up.” Mrs. Johnson smacks my one hip as if it’s fallen asleep. “There you go.”
I feel no difference, but she leaves us alone, which I’m thankful for. Jason spins me, and I face Colton and Brigette.
“That was a nice move,” I say to Jason, who smiles.
“Oh, I think we have a few dancers in the house,” Mrs. Johnson calls. “I’m going to have you dance around with one another.”
“I thought this was a party, let’s dance!” Denver yells, entering the room with a red-faced Cleo.
I dislodge from Jason and cross my arms. You’ve got to kidding me.
“Who is that?” Jason asks.
“Um…”
“Denver Bailey, you do not enter a ballroom like that,” Mrs. Johnson says.
“It’s from Footloose.” He waits for her to show any recognition of the famous final line, but it never comes.
“I do not care. This is a ballroom.” She takes his hand and leads him to the middle of the dance floor. “It is not to be knee in crotch and grinding.”
Everyone laughs. I think she has her movies mixed up.
“All you had to do was ask, Mrs. Johnson.” Denver brings her close and acts as if he’s going to grind her.
She hits him but looks at Cleo, who’s standing near the wall. “How are you ever going to marry this guy?”
“I guess I’m special because it takes a special girl to see his beauty.” Cleo walks over and smacks him playfully, before taking the spot of Mrs. Johnson. Now Denver really does put his leg between her legs and grinds.
“Your cousin?” Jason asks.
I twist my lips into an apologetic expression. “Brother.”
“Another one?”
“Yeah, but the last one you’d have to meet would be Austin and he’s super chill.”
“Just to be safe, let’s dance on the other side of the room.”
I laugh, thinking he’s joking, but Jason really does spin me until we’re in the opposite corner.
“Juno!” Denver yells, somehow dancing toward me.
“What on Earth are you two doing here?” I ask.
“Dance lessons for our wedding. Gotta start early. Plus, we needed to get out of the house. Everyone’s babies are ruining our social life.” Cleo laughs.
“I’ll put a baby in you,” Denver says. “Let’s ditch this class and go home and try until we’re successful.”
Cleo smacks him on the shoulder. “One hour. You promised.”
Denver acts like a scorned puppy but his smirk is anything but.
“Let’s switch partners. You have to be able to adapt when you dance. Allow the leader to lead you, then we’ll start in on some steps.” Mrs. Johnson comes around and pushes the couples apart.
I end up with Denver. Great. Colton is with Cleo, and Brigette and Jason are together. Immediately there’s a visible difference in dancing capabilities between the couples. Jason and Brigette whizz around the dance floor as though they should be the instructors of the class, Brigette’s skirt whooshing around her thin legs. I share a look with Colton. Yeah, we’re the losers here.
“I didn’t sign up to dance with my sister,” Denver tells Mrs. Johnson, grabbing Cleo’s hand and twirling her into his arms. “Sorry, sis.”
That leaves me with Colton. We gravitate to the window, watching the other couples. The two other middle-aged couples seem comfortable swapping, which makes me wonder if they swap partners for more than just dancing.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Mrs. Johnson comes over and positions Colton and me into the classic dancing position. She puts his hand on my hip and locks our other hands together. “We’re going to make you two dancers yet.”
“It’s just one dance. I can make it work,” Colton argues, and she slaps his arm. “Firm. Strong.” His eyes gravitate to Brigette and Jason, who are floating across the room.
“We’re obviously the misfits of the group,” I say.
“Not misfits. Just get out of that head of yours.” Mrs. Johnson taps her finger to my temple. “Listen to the beat of the music. Let it be your guide. Get lost in your partner. It’s not always about the perfect steps.” She puts one hand on Colton’s back and one on my mine, pushing us closer. “It’s about enjoyment and passion. And whatever other emotions it pulls from you.”
She leaves us to check on another couple. Colton steps much like Jason did but not nearly as smoothly. But I’m fine with that because I don’t care as much if I step on Colton’s toes.
“We’ve done this before,” Colton softly says.
“What? Prom? We only danced to fast songs,” I say.
I’m not sure he touched me that entire night. He went with Monica Lloyd and I went with Pete Segrum. It was the first school event we went to
