Don't Talk About Mickey

06 - Dance Lessons

 Okay Carly, stop and take a breath.

My heart was beating rapidly against the inside of my chest. I looked around the marble floor room noticing all the twirling couples that were natural at this thing. I wasn't, though. I had two left feet, which meant I couldn't dance for shit. My beat was always off, and my limbs were stiff and awkward.

"C'mon, Carly," Sam's voice chuckled behind me. I turned around to meet his blue gaze, and his soothing smile. "It's only practice." He stepped closer, putting his right hand on my waist, and entwined our fingers with his left hand.

I'd never been this close to Sam before, but it wasn't unpleasant. He actually smelled really good like that Evergreen scented soap, or whatever. Most guys nowadays douse themselves with Axe body spray since they believe anything seen on TV. Sam's scent was simple and nice.

"Close your eyes," he whispered, "and follow my lead."

I did as he said, suddenly feeling movement between the both of us. "Right foot," he directed.

I stepped forward as he stepped back without tripping over anything, or bumping into anyone. It was my first successful dance move, even though I had eons to go in learning how to Waltz. Lucky for me, my partner already knew how to ballroom dance.

How Sam convinced my mother to let him be my date, I was clueless. However, I'd noticed Mom was a bit more cheery lately. She's been having dates every night, coming home later than the night before, and she was still up at the crack of dawn. I'd been wondering who the mystery man was and she still wouldn't tell, which made me even more curious as to who it was.

"That's it, Carly! You're dancing!"

I started to open my eyes, but just as soon as I did, I tripped on Sam's shoes. As I grabbed onto his shoulders to get my balance up, his arms tightened around my waist to make sure I wouldn't fall.

"Careful there," he smiled, still holding onto me.

I didn't know how to react to being in his arms like this. It was clear that we were just friends and would never be anything more, but I kind of liked it. Most likely, it was just my teenage hormones kicking up so I brushed it off and took a step back.

"Thanks," I said, forcing a smile.

"Time's up!" The dance instructor shouted. She turned off the small stereo that sat on a wooden chair. "Meet back here next Wednesday."

I felt a flush of relief that it was over. No more dancing and no more getting close to Sam...at least for a week, anyway. I was just about to go grab my things until he gripped my wrist and pulled me back.

"Oh, no you don't," he said. "You need more practice, and Ms. Wright agrees with me on that."

I turned towards the dance instructor who was nodding her head. "I'll let you two have the room for a little while but my next class is coming in at five."

"We'll make sure we're out of here by then," Sam reassured.

As soon as Mrs. Wright left the room, Sam wrapped his arm around me and pulled me closer than we were before. This time his piercing eyes wouldn't allow me to close mine, and somehow I was able to move my feet in sync with his.

We moved around the room at a slow pace, without one mistake. I couldn't help but smile at how much easier it was than I'd thought. Whatever Sam's technique was, he had some kind of gift when it came to giving someone confidence.

"So how is it possible for you to be a natural at this when nobody's around?" He asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. "People make me nervous," I admitted. I'd learned that uninteresting fact about myself when Mom signed me up for a play in the third grade. I'd ruined the whole show by fainting.

"Do I ever make you nervous?"

"Whenever you lecture me," I faintly chuckled.

Sam nodded as his smile faded.

 The more I thought about his question, the more I started to feel that wasn't the answer he was looking for.

Once five 'o clock finally rolled around, I was waiting outside of the dance studio while Sam fetched the town car from the parking garage. The sun was already setting, and the birds were settling in their nests in what little trees planted around the city. The strong smell of smoke burned my nostrils and made my stomach churn. When I barely turned my head, out of the corner of my eye I noticed a man standing against the building wall with a cigarette dangling from his lips.  

"If you don't mind," I stopped to force a fake cough, "Could you smoke that somewhere else?"

"Actually, I do mind," the man chuckled in an oddly familiar voice.

I twisted around to see Mickey in a red t-shirt and jeans, no leather jacket. His lips curled into a smile before he flicked the cigarette aside and approached me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked confusedly, hoping Sam wasn't going to pull up any time soon.

"I was in the neighborhood and saw you standing here...all alone." He shoved his hands in his pockets, staring down at his feet.

"Actually, my driver should be here any minute. You know Sam, the one that came to get me that night?" I nervously babbled, realizing I should've kept my mouth shut.

"Well, I better get out of here then." He smiled before leaning in to kiss me on the cheek. "It was nice seeing you again."

"Yeah," I absentmindedly said, "I guess."

"See you around, beautiful."

Heat immediately rushed to my cheeks as I watched him walk away. I turned back towards the curb to see Sam leaning against the car with an angered look on his face.

"H-how long have you been standing there?" I stuttered.

"Long enough," he grunted as he opened the back door. "Get in."

****

Apologies for the short chapter.