Just One Dance

It all started with a dance, a simple rocking of bodies. Back and forth. Back and forth. The cigarette smoke cleared, and the music died slowly. But they weren't aware of it. They hadn't noticed that most of the patrons of the place had left. They were on cloud nine, no—they were in heaven. They felt weightless in each other's arms. They could feel each other's heartbeat through their shirts. Their collective warmth was comforting; their arms extended to each of their backs like a heated blanket. Their breath was light, almost nonexistent. Their eyes were closed like they were in a deep, blissful sleep. Nothing could keep them away from each other.

        It ended with a phone number slipped into his pocket. The girl with the auburn hair slipped it into his jacket pocket as they left the dance floor. She did it discreetly, so much so that he didn't even feel her hand slip inside it. She walked away from him, not speaking a single word to him. She rewarded him, though, with one last deep stare into his eyes. Though hers were a sweet, dull chocolate brown, they pierced his soul with the grace of a rapier. He went to the bathroom to pull himself together. He splashed cold water onto his face, worn from hours of partying and need of sleep. He tousled his hair a little bit to give it a little more life. As he rummaged through his pockets, looking for his keys, he found the little note. The seven-digit message, along with the beautiful look in her eyes as she left him, made him realize his victory. It brought a hint of a smile to his gaunt face.

        He waited a few days before he called her. It was courtesy to do so for him; don't call right away, or you'll seem desperate. He tried to placate it through work, but she was all he could think of. Every minute he could get a chance, he'd look out his office window and stare, thinking about her. How she held him so close to herself, how she smelled vaguely of citrus, the grin on her face as she looked up at him. When the day came, he summoned his courage and reached for his phone. With a trembling finger, he punched in her number.

        “Hola, esta Carmen. ¿Cómo estás?” came a voice.

        He was utterly surprised at the powerful alto voice on the other line. His knees almost buckled as he uttered out his meek reply.

        "Uh…Carmen?" he said, his voice trembling slightly. "My name is Jake. We met at the Copacabana the other day."

        "Oh! It's you!" she exclaimed with joy. "Sorry, I always answer the phone in Spanish. Job requirements, haha."

        "That's no problem. I'll admit, though, it caught me off guard."

        "Oh, sorry." She said with playful sheepishness.

        The two shared a laugh. The strength in Jake's knees was rejuvenated, and he felt his posture straighten.

        "Hey, um, I had a really great time at the club." He said.

        "Me, too! You're a wonderful dancer."

        "Thanks. You're quite the dancer yourself. Have you taken lessons?"

        "Yeah, I did!" she said, excited at his observation. "I've been salsa dancing since I was twelve."

        "Wow! It really shows!"

        "Thanks. My mom used to take me to all the competitions around L.A. when I was a kid. I won a few of them, but I usually just came there to dance."

        He raised an eyebrow in intrigue. This lady was becoming more and more interesting by the second.

        "You live there your whole life, L.A?" he asked.

        "Up until I was twelve, then I moved here. I actually prefer it back there, but work and family got me here, you know?"

        "Yeah, I get you. I'm kind of in the same boat, actually."

        "Really?" she asked. "Parents?"

        Like her, he became excited, yet a twinge of confusion at his own emotion circled around in his head as he spoke.

        "Yeah. I grew up here, and I got roots here. I want to go out, but it's home, you know?"

        "Yeah, but what's home, really, in the end?"

        The two shared a pause at that philosophical comment. It was interesting how the two had already delved into the deep talk in just a span of a few minutes. It was like they had known each other forever. Jake shook his head violently to bring himself back to reality. Indeed, she was at work now. He'd be wasting her time if he didn't get to the point! Clearing his throat, he said,

        "Well, if you're not busy, I was wondering if maybe you and I could grab dinner. I don't know what you're schedule is like, but I was thinking Tuesday at 6:30?"

        Her half of the pause continued. The anticipation crept up on Jake like deadly fingers up his spine. He could feel himself grinding his teeth, so much so that he could faintly hear the sound of enamel wearing away. It seemed like an eternity until she finally said,

        "I can make that work. You'd have to pick me up, though. Where were you thinking?"

        His heart fluttered. It almost wanted to leap through his throat and make itself known to the world. He summoned himself again.

        "I was thinking the O'Reilly's off of Monroe and La Fin. Are you aware of it?"

        "Not really, but it sounds interesting."

        "Cool! Then I'll see you Tuesday?"

        "Sure!" she said. "Here's the address."

        He wrote it down with the fury of the insane. As the days go by, he couldn't stop thinking of her. More and more, she was getting beautiful. Every thought of her sent him into orgasmic disconnection. When the day came to pick her up, he stopped outside a big office building. Before he hung up, she had told him that it was a public relations firm on the fifteenth floor. It'd be a second before she would get there, but she'd be there. When she did, he again was struck. The proper business attire she wore clung to her body like duct tape. The years of dancing showed in her swagger as her hips swayed sensually. When she saw him, her eyes lit up, and she waved at him. It was like, already, they were best friends. As she came closer, he couldn't help but chuckle. All this because of just one dance.