Amateurs

“No, when I say left, I’m talking about my own feet. When I step forward with my left, you’re going backward with your right.”

“That’s confusing.”

“Don’t listen to me, you say the following steps to yourself.”

Lacey bit her lip. “Or we could both not say anything, and avoid confusing each other.”

“If I don’t say it, I forget,” Mauve bopped her head almost imperceptibly, and tried to jump back into the steps. Lacey barely managed to follow along, keeping her feet out from under Mauve’s by some miracle.  What they did not manage to do was stay out of the way of an older pair. Lacey’s back collided with the man’s, and his partner shot them a dirty look. 

“Sorry,” Lacey muttered, scooting out of the way. She wouldn’t be stumbling around, embarrassed heat creeping up her neck if they had stayed on campus tonight. They could be in the dorms or in the library, tucked into their usual spots, and her anthropology paper might be revised by now. Writing didn’t require coordination and grace, something the pair of them were obviously lacking. It was something she was good at, something she could do with style, something she should stick with. Instead, they were ‘expanding their horizons’ and she looked like a fool, because Mauve had to go and win a raffle, and she had to put her ticket in the bucket for the ‘mystery prize’. And the mystery prize had to suck.

The other couples seemed to have picked up the steps to the ‘foxy’ just fine, and some even managed to keep hushed conversations under the music that flowed from the speakers. There were older couples who had clearly done this before, married couples who worked together well, probably looking to mix it up for the new year, and pairs who probably did this as a hobby and had designated dancing shoes. In the mirrors that lined one of the walls, Lacey spotted only one couple stopping and starting like a film whose CD was scratched up. She and Mauve. The instructor flitted around the room offering advice. Lacey accidentally made eye contact and saw him wince. Obviously, they were hopeless. Mauve was too busy staring at their feet to notice. “How did the promenade go again? We like… we turn…” 

“Turn around and go home?” Lacey quipped. The two girls had bruised shins and Lacey was doubting her own ability to count to the number four. Never before had an hour felt so long. She wanted nothing more than to throw in the towel early.

Mauve wasn’t in agreement. “The voucher is only for three sessions, we can’t quit- you really don’t want to stay?”

Being able to make those eyes should be illegal. Lacey wasn’t even sure that Mauve did it on purpose. Maybe it was one of those traits that got passed down every generation because it was helpful for survival. Because when her brown eyes went all sad and a little bit glassy, it was near impossible for Lacey to do anything but sigh.

“Fine. I’ll stay.”

Lacey hadn’t realized they’d still been swaying until they slowed to a stop. And once they stopped, she realized that their initial positions had devolved into something too spaced out and awkward. No wonder they couldn’t do the steps right.

And maybe she was the problem. She hadn’t always been good at writing either, and if she treated it the way she was treating this lesson, she would still suck. Mauve had approached this lesson with an open mind, and now Lacey was feeling like somewhat of a jerk for definitely not doing the same.

As she was coming around to the idea of making an effort, Mauve was trying to let go of her hand, looking sheepish. “If you really aren’t enjoying yourself, we can leave. Maybe this was a dumb idea.”

“No, it wasn’t dumb. You won that voucher, and if you want to dance, we’ll- do something very much like dancing.” Lacey adjusted her grip on Mauve’s shoulder which had gone slack and careless, and raised their joined hands higher as she straightened her posture. “As close to dancing as we can get.”

The bruises on her shins would heal. And maybe if she participated more, she’d get less of them. Just because she was following didn’t mean she had to be utterly passive.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure. I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“I shouldn’t bring your mood down even if my excitement doesn’t match yours. It’s not fair.” Lacey glanced at their feet again to fix their spacing. She shuffled her sparkly silver flats closer to Mauve’s beat-up pink Converse. The Converse in question now had stray glitter on the toes as well as countless smudges of dirt from the constant run-ins with Lacey’s shoes.

“You’re sure you don’t mind? If you don’t wanna, I can find someone else to come with next time.”

“I changed my mind. I’ll come with you. When we say the steps, let’s not say left or right. Let’s just count the numbers and we’ll remember what it means for the leader or follower in our heads. Maybe we’ll kick each other less.”

“Alright, that sounds good.” Mood buoyed back up, Mauve jumped into their next attempt with the same enthusiasm as she’d jumped into their first.

They found a rhythm- a clunky one, but a rhythm nonetheless. With only a few glances at the ground, the two finally managed a full normal, promenade, and left turn pattern, chanting “one, two, sway, sway- one, two, sway, sway”. Lacey tried not to be bothered by being the only couple who still had to say their directions out loud. It was easier not to feel bothered when Mauve wore a huge, satisfied grin. Their amateur status weighed on Lacey’s mind less and less, until it didn’t weigh at all.

When the session ended and the studio was closing, it felt like it was too soon.

“I thought that was fun,” Mauve said as they retrieved their bags and began their walk to the bus stop.

“It… wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be,” was the most Lacey would admit, though she really agreed with Mauve.

“And you’ll come with me next time too? Promise?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“If we get good, maybe we can keep coming back every week,” Mauve suggested. “Should I get dancing shoes?”

“Let’s get through the second lesson before we start to think about that.”