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“Teach me,” she says, firmly this time. Like she knows just what she wants. “Teach me how to be a good tango dancer. Teach me how to do it right. I want to know everything.” She’s voracious in how she tells me this, like she’s starving for all this knowledge.
I haven’t seen such energy about dance since I started dancing myself. There’s something about the way she’s approaching this experience that is refreshing. It’s genuine and vulnerable and exciting. Fiery and passionate. And it might be making me love this dance again.
“This class was on the house. Let’s start fresh next one.”
I can’t deny that I’m excited, that I’m ready to dive in. But there’s an underlying current of nerves, something that’s got me feeling jittery and reckless.
It’s always been about the craft, and suddenly, it feels like it’s not.
Chapter thirteen
Julieta
“I Googled you theother day,” I tell him, standing in the middle of this dance studio facing the mirror. This place seems much bigger with fewer people in it. The mirror feels much more intimidating when it’s just me staring at it, waiting for direction.
I still can’t believe I’m doing this. I still can’t believe I asked. I figured I could run it by Ethan during the private class if it went well, but it clearly didn’t. In the middle of that mess, I realized maybe it could be Logan instead. I was prepared for a no; there was no way he would agree to it. Except that he did, and now we’re here.
It seems like one impulsive decision has led to a plethora of them. One after the other, like this is who I’ve been all along. The rush of signing up for lessons in the first place was the beginning of a whole mountain of them: classes and a haircut and a plan to go to San Diego. Who am I right now? I’m still not sure how I’m going to get that news past everyone, but maybe that’s a problem for Future Julie.
“Oh yeah? Find anything fun?” he asks.
“Some videos.”
“Do tell.” He narrows his eyes.
“You were incredible.” I sigh.
“Just lots of practice,” he says casually, unbothered.
“Don’t be so humble,” I call out. “You’re a wonderful dancer. You’re good with your feet.” I point to his. “There was one video where you did a giro and ocho. I loved how you did it, how your feet stepped in line. Tara is fantastic, too. She’s so beautiful, so graceful. What a great partnership you two have. Or, had.” I wince.
He doesn’t say anything in response, just smiles as he listens to me ramble on. And at this point, I am absolutely rambling.
“You’ve traveled all over the world, it seems like. You’ve won championships.”
“Tell me more about your research,” he grins.
I have the decency to blush at least. “It’s very admirable, your success.”
“Mm. Success is relative.” He comes to stand next to me, looking at me in the mirror as he speaks. “You’re very successful, too.”
My parents think so, I want to tell him.
“We'll start with a warmup and then some basic moves,” he says, redirecting the conversation to why we're here.
We go through the moves slowly, Logan detailing every step and proper form. We’re starting from the beginning again, but I don’t mind. I like this thorough exploration of the dance. I like it with him.
“Let’s do a proper tango hold,” he suggests.
His arm comes around behind my back, and mine finds a home along his upper arm. He’s attentive as he touches my spine gently to adjust my posture, and the heat radiates throughout my body. I look up to meet his eyes, silently asking for validation that I'm doing this right. He looks at me, and quickly nods, like almost encouraging me to keep going. I step closer, leaning intohis space, and I find that I really like it here.Thisfeels intimate. This feels … special.
I’m looking over his shoulder, our faces almost cheek to cheek, when he gives the next direction.
“Basic step,” he says.
We move together on the basic eight count as he leads. Such a different experience from what I’ve danced so far. Maybe he was right to have me forget about Ethan.
“Remember, slow and quick,” he adds, leaning into my ear. “Every slow is two beats, every quick is one. Think of that as you walk.”
