Page 21 of Sway

“You tripping, girl.”

Jenny purses her lips until they turn white. A single tear threatens to slip from the corner of her eye. What have I gotten my friend into?

“Live, from Hollywood. It’s Dancing under the Stars,” the British voiceover says on the other side of the curtain like the Wizard of Oz. The audience screams and claps on cue.

“C’mon, Jenny, suck it up,” I hiss. This is no time to coddle. She’s a pro, she can do this. “Get your Chinese-American ass out there and show them how it’s done. Go!”

I shove her ahead of me, next to Tim’s side. The annoying theme song starts playing and we march out one by one with our partners. We get out to the floor and the camera pans across our faces. Dolla and I start bopping along to the music. Vika, next to me, starts blowing kisses at the audience. Like the pro she is, Jenny pops on her most beautiful smile. That’s my girl.

The host, Matthew Brinkman, is in his glory. “This is our best year yet, with Olympic medalists, Grammy award winners, and reality television stars. And we also have five new professional dancers. Right now is your first chance to see our competitors. First up, The Great Wall of China, Timothy Lee.”

Oh, no, they didn’t! I nearly trip on my own feet when Jenny shakes her head and mouths, “I’m sorry, Dad” to the cameras. Tim is more American than Apple Pie and had never even set foot in China until the Olympics.

“Timothy is the first Chinese-American basketball player in the NBA,” Brinkman says. “He’s led the Golden State Warriors to four NBA finals and two championships. He most recently won a gold medal for Team USA in the Olympics. Tim is paired with one of our newest professional dancers, Jennifer Ming.”

The overhead monitor cuts to a clip of Tim and Jenny as the rest of us dancers scurry back to the red room to watch their montage and their performance.

“I’m Tim Lee and I’m an Olympic Gold Medalist for Team USA basketball and I have led the Golden State Warriors to two NBA championships.” He seems almost charming on the TV screen.

“I’m Jennifer Ming and I’m the 2017 United States Amateur Standard Champion.”

A clip shows the first time Tim and Jenny meet on the basketball court of Tim’s home in Palo Alto. Tim, shirtless is shooting free throws.

Jenny’s jaw drops and stares just a tad too long at his ripped abs, and I think I see a drip of drool on her lips.

“Woo-hoo!” Dolla cheers at the screen. “You show her who’s her daddy, Timmy Boy!” Guess I’m not the only one who saw her gaping.

Tim puts on his shirt and gives her a big hug.

The next video is at the local studio. Jenny is standing behind Tim trying to get him to move his hips. It ain’t pretty.

“How many times have I told you to stop shuffling your feet?” Jenny yells at Tim.

“I don’t know, Mom, a million?” Tim screams back.

The audience laughs.

The voiceover cuts in: “Dancing the mambo, Timothy Lee and his partner Jennifer Ming.”

Now live, Tim leads a grinning Jenny to the floor.

It’s almost too painful to watch. Tim fakes his way through the mambo and almost trips Jenny several times. His huge feet fumble along the floor, the sound of which elicits the same reaction in my ears as hearing Vika baby talk. What was it I told Jenny about not being humiliated? They finish their dance and wait for the judges to give them their comments.

“So, Tim, how do you think you did?” Matt asks.

Tim gives Jenny a pat on her butt. Her nostrils flare. “Well, Matt,” he says, “I just tried to dance the best I can.”

“Jennifer, how did you enjoy working with Tim?” Matt asks her.

Oh, Lord. Please tell me she won’t . . .

“Tim was a delight to have as partner, Matt,” Jenny says, smiling like some possessed Stepford Wife. “I am so ecstatic that I had the opportunity to dance with a prominent Asian-American role model.” Good God. Did her nose really grow or is that just my imagination?

“Let’s see what the judges have to say. Benjamin Brooks?” Matt says.

The camera pans to Benny, who is wearing a yellow suit, black silk shirt, and his signature Australian Bolo tie. He looks like a pregnant bumblebee. Benny Brooks is the epitome of everything that is wrong in the ballroom industry. He rose to fame in a time when ballroom dancing consisted of stringing together a series of cheesy poses while the men paraded around in ruffled white cat suits that were split in a long V shape to ensure that their excessive mane of chest hair was showing.

“Timmy,” Benny starts, “you couldn’t blow the froth off a glass of amber fluid. This is a ballroom floor, not a basketball court. You looked like you were dribbling your partner. She is not a basketball. The maam-bo should be playful and sensual.”