17. Dance Battle

Dance Battle

Felix

T he haze of smoke in the club is almost cloying, and I wave my hand in front of my face. It’s Saturday night, and the dance floor is busy. Women in miniskirts and halter tops shimmy their shoulders at me when I walk by, but I ignore them. Five bartenders at both bars can’t keep up with the drinks, and the club has opened up a beer trough for people wanting simple bottles of beer. That’s new, but it makes me happy people are still enjoying disco on a weekend.

I glance at my watch. Dex should already be here since he told me to meet him twenty minutes ago. Dex is never late, but I am this time.

After having regular lights on when I dance with Nicole and during my classes, it takes my eyes moments to adjust to the disco effect as blue and purple lights dance across every person and surface. The booths are full, and my nose itches as I watch heads lean over the tables with dollar bills ready. “Le Freak” plays at deafening levels, and my shoulders shake to it involuntarily as I make my way to where I think Dex will be. He isn’t in his booth, so that means he’s probably watching the dancers from the bar.

I look around the club until I spot his crutches leaning against a bar stool. Nobody dares move them for the seat, and I chuckle to myself that I get to be the one he comes home to at night.

Well, I’m the one he comes home to most nights. The other person he spends time with is on the dance floor already. I spot her in a blue sequin jumpsuit, a one-piece I’ve never seen before that suits her. It’s tight, fitting like a glove in all the right places. Did Dex buy her a new outfit for coming to the club? I guess it’s possible she bought her own since we pay her a salary a little more than her teaching job paid. Maybe she wanted some new, sexier clothes.

“There you are!” Dex says as I walk toward him. He kisses me on the cheek, and I put my hand on his back. The club is one of the places where we can be open and nobody cares. “You ready?”

I pull my spring jacket off and shove it at Dex. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Just pretend the crowd is the audience at the contest,” Dex says.

“I know. I know. Will you order me a gin and tonic while I dance with your girl? ”

He nods as I roll my shoulders and unbutton another button on my black dress shirt. As I walk to the dance floor, I feel Dex’s approving eyes burning a hole in my tight pants. I stop suddenly before I reach the dance floor and turn my head so fast that I catch him checking me out. When he notices he’s been caught, he winks at me.

I take the steps to the dance floor, approach Nicole, and her face falls when she sees me. Damn. That twinges a bit, and I hate the hurt. Resent it even.

“You ready?” I ask, ignoring our feelings. I probably deserve her not skipping for joy when I arrive at the party.

She nods and looks at the DJ, who’s noticed me. Dex told me he was paying the man to watch for me and start up our contest song as soon as I got to the dance floor. Nicole presses her forehead to mine in the starting position as we stand in the middle of the dance floor, probably looking like maniacs since we’re waiting for our music to start dancing.

“You aren’t going to drop me, are you?” she asks. Her breath smells like peppermint, and there’s a product in her hair that smells heavenly tonight. My heart pounds at the very smell of her, but I take a deep breath, willing my enjoyment of anything about her to go away.

My eyes meet hers, and we gaze at each other for a few seconds. “No, Nicole. I won’t drop you.”

“Is it because Dex is watching? ”

The music starts and we keep our foreheads together as we start our hip shimmies. “It’s because everyone’s watching. You ready to be the hottest new thing here?”

Before she can answer, we separate and move into our sidestep sequence. People back away from us now as we start what Dex has been calling our “dress rehearsal.” He thought it would be a good idea to run through the whole routine on an actual dance floor in front of people who haven’t seen it in person or in a mirror a thousand times.

We move into our complicated arm movements and spin, and the crowd cheers and whistles. At this point, they have to know it’s a choreographed dance since our matching arm movements and footwork could never be improvised. Nicole does the thigh sit as lights bounce off her sequined outfit, nearly blinding me.

But I can do this dance with her blindfolded. Her body is like clay in my hands, and I know exactly how far to reach for her and on which count. She does the trust fall flawlessly and with so much trust that my heart clenches. Once I right her back to standing, I quickly push her into the spin and pull her up so she can slide down my body. The disco ball lights are jarring, and the screams and whistles are distracting, but I still know exactly where to put my hand so that they connect with hers.

I catch her each and every time I reach out. When I look down, her eyes are open and on mine, and I almost drop her at the emotion in them. She looks at me like I’m her hero. Like I’m Superman and she’s Lois Lane.

All I did was catch her .

We separate and do our planned individual movements before coming back together to do our complicated footwork sequence. By the end of our routine, people are nearby, clapping and screaming my name. They don’t scream Nicole’s because they don’t all know it yet, but their eyes roam her body, wanting her and wanting to know who she is.

They’ll know her name now, though, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. Am I jealous because they’ll associate her with me, and they’ll see Dex on her arm? Am I proud that she’s my dance partner tonight?

Because I am proud of her. My heart pounds and not from the dancing. My mouth is dry, and I smile despite myself. She’s utterly fucking gorgeous tonight, and she’s dancing with me.

The song ends, and people I’ve known for years approach us, patting me on the back. They shake Nicole’s hand and ask for her name, and I can’t take it. I can’t stand there and watch her get all this attention when I’m not sure how to feel about it.

I walk away from her, leaving her on the dance floor. When I turn around to see if she’s following me like the lost puppy I expect her to be, I stop suddenly when I see other people asking her to show them some moves. She’s still on the dance floor and moving side to side with the transition music the DJ plays between songs as she smiles and chats to everyone like she’s the natural star of the show.

Turning back around, I push aside any thoughts of Nicole Tate and stalk to the man I love as he leans against the bar, his eyes on Nicole .

“Well, you should be proud of yourself. You’ve turned the mousy little thing into a star at the club you love so much,” I say as Dex pushes a drink into my hand.

“I didn’t do shit. You did that all by yourself,” he says. “You made her look like a star up there, and I’ll have a hard time holding on to my girl tonight. I should punch you in the dick.”

I laugh and look back at Nicole. It’s not just men wanting to dance with her as the music segues to the latest ABBA tune. Women flock around her, touching her sequined outfit or fluffing her feathered hair. It’s only then that I realize she’s had it cut. Did Dex take her, or did she decide on the style by herself? I didn’t comment on it, and I should tell her it looks nice.

Scratch that. I should let her think I haven’t noticed her change. She looks so…comfortable. Like this was who she’s been all along and she just needed a push in the right direction.

“What do you think?” Dex yells over the music and chants as people line the dance floor to watch Nicole.

I lean back against the bar and watch her dance without Dex and without me. People back up and circle her to watch, and I can’t help smiling. “She’s surprising sometimes, I’ll give her that.”

“Does that mean you’re going to give her a chance?”

I lift my drink and take a long swallow. “I’ve been giving her a chance.” On the stage, Nicole shakes her hips and does a punching roll with her arms as she moves across the floor, her face rosy with confidence. “I’ll admit that I was a smidge wrong about her, but don’t you dare tell her I said that. I’m not ready for that. One good dance under a disco ball does not make a relationship for me.”

“I’ll never give away the best of you, Felix.” He leans his head on my shoulder, and I kiss the top of it. “We have a chance, you know?”

“Chance with what? Being with Nicole or winning the contest?”

“Both,” he says. He flicks a lazy hand at the cigarette smoke passing in front of us. “I wanted you to see her tonight. I thought it would be good to nail that routine and then see her through other people’s eyes. Not just your clouded ones.”

“The competition will be fierce.”

He lifts his head and tilts back his own martini. When it’s gone, he sucks the olives, as is his habit. “You’re a strong leader, and she’s come a long way. You can win this. She’ll look to you for guidance and comfort for her nerves. You know that, right?”

“I don’t know if she will. If you were her partner, yeah, she’d look to you for those things. I don’t think she wants any comfort from me, and she’s learned I don’t give it like you.”

He giggles and sets his glass down before kissing me on the cheek. “I’m going to get closer and make sure every man over there knows she’s with me. But look at her, man.” He nods toward her as she does a point and fancy footwork to go along with it. “Don’t underestimate her. We’ve been surprised at every turn with that one.”