Chapter Seven

Riley

"I understand," I answer Bertha, the dance instructor in front of me who's in charge of helping me and Lena do the challenge for our fourth day--get dancing lessons and dance in front of a live audience by the end of the day.

What I don't understand is why Lena is acting aloof. Is this some pattern? Like one day she and I have some sort of magic and the next, we're acting like strangers? Or did I do something to make her mad again?

I rattle my brains for an answer but can't come up with one. What did I do? Don't tell me she's still mad about me dissing one of her favorite movies. But that was before we played the piano together, which I think was pretty amazing. She was smiling then, too. So when did she start frowning?

Not during dinner. Or maybe I was too hungry to notice after having only had sandwiches for lunch and finally managing to swim to my heart's content. After that, she went to bed and I took a shower. When I got out, she was asleep.

Before I went for my swim, then? I can't really remember what Lena did right after the handcuffs were removed. And the last thing we did with them on was take a nap. And she can't have been upset then. Why, when I was staring down at her, she looked like she wanted me to kiss her.

And damn, it took all I had not to. Yes, she might have looked willing, but like I said, I'm not taking any more chances. When I kiss her, when I take her, it will be after she asks me to.

So what did I do wrong?

I can't seem to figure it out, so I decide to ask her as we continue practicing the steps of our rumba routine.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," Lena answers quickly.

Too quickly. She didn't even think about it.

"Sure?" I ask her as I turn her around. "Because you seem to be a little on edge."

"Well, dancing isn't really my thing," she answers as she does another spin.

I pull her back. "I mean you're too tense... around me, like you're scared of me."

"Me? Scared?"

I shrug as I let her go so she can do her own steps. "It just seems like you want to run away from me."

Lena stops. "I'm the one who's trying to run away?"

She gives a sarcastic laugh.

My eyebrows furrow. What's that supposed to mean?

"Stop! Stop!" Bertha claps her hands. "What is going on?"

"Nothing," Lena and I answer at the same time.

"We're just talking," I add.

Bertha sighs. "Well, you should be dancing. Whatever it is you need to tell each other, say it through your body movements. I can assure you your message will get across."

I nod. Lena says nothing.

Bertha walks away and snaps her fingers. "From the top."

The music plays again. Lena and I start executing our steps. This time, we don't say a word to each other.

I can still notice that she's tense, though, especially when she's in my arms. And I must be thinking of it too much because my focus slips away and my coordination suffers. My hand lands on top of her breast instead of just below it, and as I jerk it off, I mess up the next step. Lena stops. The music stops a moment later and Bertha gives a loud sigh.

"I'm sorry," I tell Lena. "I didn't mean that."

She says nothing, her back still turned to me.

"What is happening here?" Bertha approaches us with a scowl and her hands on her hips. "Both of you know what to do and yet your minds are somewhere else. Do you want to dance or not?"

I don't answer. I never wanted to dance in the first place. It's not my thing, either. But it's the challenge, so I'm making the most of it. Lena's not even trying.

Bertha glances at the clock on the wall. "We only have a few hours left, you know. If you keep doing this, you'll be disappointing everyone--your audience, me, yourselves. Don't you want to make everyone drop their jaws when you dance, to applaud when you're done? I assure you it's an amazing feeling."

Still, Lena looks uninterested.

Bertha sighs. "Alright, we'll try again. We'll--"

"I need a break," Lena finally speaks.

She walks towards the door.

Again, Bertha glances at the clock. "Now?"

Lena's already at the door.

I chase after her and manage to grab her arm before she slips out.

"Lena, what's wrong?"

"I said I need a break." She jerks her arm away. "Now."

And she leaves.

Behind me, Bertha clicks her tongue disapprovingly. "You know, you can't keep dancing like this. She can't keep doing this. She'll--"

"She said she just needs a break," I say to Bertha as I turn towards her. I draw a deep breath. "She'll be fine."

At least, I hope so.

~

But when rehearsal resumes, Lena is still the same. Her movements are still stiff, mechanical almost. And the mistakes pile on. As the hours tick by, I can sense Bertha's impatience, her frustration. Her sighs grow deeper. Her heel keeps tapping the wood. Those disgruntled clicks of her sharp tongue grow more frequent.

Finally, she snaps.

"This is terrible! Terrible!" She marches towards Lena. "Are you even paying attention? Are you even thinking?"

Lena just looks away.

I turn to her. "Bertha, there's no need to--"

"You can't keep covering for her mistakes," Bertha cuts me off. "Rumba is a dance done by two. If only one is dancing, it won't work."

Unfortunately, I can't argue with that.

"Now, Riley and I will do it once," she goes on. "You watch and see how it's done."

Lena retreats to the corner.

The music starts all over again, and this time Bertha and I take the floor. She's good. I have to admit it. It's all I can do to keep up. But somehow, I manage. No. She manages it. It's as if she's dragging me along, drawing my performance out of me.

When we're done, I'm out of breath for the first time. As I pause to catch it, Bertha applauds.

"That is how it's done, Lena," she says.

Still, I don't hear a word from her. I turn my head. My eyes grow wide as they meet hers.

Why does she look like she's about to cry?

Again, she rushes to the door.

"Lena!" I call after her.

"Let her go," Bertha tells me. "If she doesn't want to dance, we can't force her. And I'd rather she not dance then put on a quarter-assed performance."

I ignore Bertha and walk to the door.

"Oh, to hell with it." Bertha's heels stomp on the wood. "Fine. Both of you walk out. I'm walking out, too. I don't care about the pay. I'm done. The two of you have wasted enough of my time."

She marches out the other door. I leave the room and look for Lena. I find her sitting on the bench outside the restrooms, her shoulders slumped.

She lifts her head to look at me, then turns away quickly. Her hand covers half her face to ward off my gaze.

But I keep it on her as I sit beside her.

"Lena..."

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be dancing with Bertha? The two of you should just do the dance. You look better together."

I frown. Is this what it's all about?

"Don't tell me you're jealous."

She neither confirms nor denies it.

"Bertha is just our instructor. You--"

"I don't know, okay? But I know I can't dance like her." Lena shakes her head. "I can't even dance at all."

"Yes, you can." I almost put a hand on her shoulder but stop so as not to make her uncomfortable. "If only you tried. You're not even trying, Lena. Even I can see that."

"So sue me."

"This is not like you."

"You don't know me."

I sigh. "Maybe not that well, but I know you're no quitter. You climbed that mountain on Day One, remember? You didn't give up even though you wanted to. And I didn't give up on you then and I'm not giving up on you now."

Lena snorts. "Yeah, right."

My eyebrows furrow at another sarcastic remark. What is she being bitter about?

I grip her arm. "Lena, if there's something wrong, you should just tell me."

"I don't know, okay?" She pulls her arm away and finally faces me. "I don't know if there's something wrong... or what's right and what's wrong. I'm just... so confused right now."

And so am I. I'm glad she's decided to tell me how she feels, but I still don't understand.

"What about?"

"I don't know," she speaks louder. "I don't know what's real and what's not. I don't know what I'm supposed to do or what you want me to do."

My eyebrows arch. "What I want you to do?"

"One minute, you're like my best friend and the next, I don't know you. You don't really care about me, do you?"

Is that what she thinks? Is that why she's acting like this?

"Just leave me alone already," Lena goes on. "Just--"

The rest of her words vanish as my lips press against hers. My hand caresses her cheek beneath a curtain of hair.

I know I said I wouldn't kiss her unless she asked, but I can't stand seeing her like this. Just this once, I'll kiss her because she seems to want me to, because she needs me to.

And I need to. I can't just let her drown in her silly fears.

When the kiss is over, Lena looks into my eyes. There are still tears brimming in her ears, but they're clearer now. The fog of fear and suffering has begun to fade.

I stroke her cheek. "What I want you to do, Lena, is to dance with me. Not for Bertha. Not for the audience. But so you and I can have fun."

I get off the bench and pull her arm.

"Dance for me. Because I won't dance for anyone else but you."

Lena wipes her tears and snorts. "I wish I could, but you know I can't dance."

"Like I said, you haven't even tried." I pull her to her feet. "Once you try, I know you can do it."

"But Bertha--"

"Forget about Bertha." I touch Lena's cheek. "She's given up on us already anyway."

Her eyebrows arch. "Really?"

"We don't need her. We already know the steps. We can sure as hell dance without her. And we will."

Lena still looks hesitant, so I grasp her chin and force her to look into my eyes.

"You're not in this alone, Lena. You have me. And you can bet I won't let you fail."

For a moment, she remains silent. Then she finally nods.

"Okay. I'll... just follow your lead, I guess."

I smile. "Exactly."

~

When the curtains on the stage rise and the music starts to play, I start to move. I can feel the members of the audience staring. I know the camera's out there rolling. But I focus on Lena.

I can hardly take my eyes off her anyway. Just like it was at our wedding, her hair is swept up. A touch of makeup shows off her elegant bone structure. Her frilly red dress drapes diagonally over her thighs and ends below one knee. Cut-outs on the side above her waist reveal smooth skin for me to put my hands on.

And do I put my hands on them. I clutch her tightly each time she dances next to me. I let my fingers glide over her arms, her thighs as the dance requires. As I promised, I lead her through the routine. And just as Bertha dragged me along while I was dancing with her, Lena moves with me. She falls into step beside me. She's no longer stiff now. She's trying her best. And succeeding like I thought she would. She surrenders and I carry her away.

When the music ends, we both take a moment to catch our breaths. Then I pull her into my arms as the audience bursts into applause.

"I knew you could do it," I whisper in her ear with pride in my voice.

"We did it," Lena answers with the smile I've been waiting to see. "We make a great team."

I smile back at her before turning towards the still cheering crowd. I spot Bertha in it, and even she seems happy. And why shouldn't she be? Lena and I gave it our all. We owned the stage.

And as I look into her eyes once more as the curtains fall, I wonder if there's anything we can't do.