Shy

Clara

After dance rehearsal, I tentatively invite Kia round for dinner and she accepts, on the condition that she can drop her dance stuff home as it needs washing before our all day rehearsal tomorrow morning.

So we pack up our stuff, say our goodbyes and head towards Kia's house. We chat amiably on the way but secretly, I'm excited to potentially see a glimpse more of her brother.

It's pathetic, and I've accepted it, but I've also accepted that he won't leave my mind.

"Don't worry," Kia says, "I won't be long, I'll just drop off my stuff and we can get going."

We approach her door and as I stand waiting for Kia to find her keys, I hear someone swearing profusely. I look at Kia and she looks just as confused. She opens the door and we creep down the corridor.

A slow waltz is playing and it sounds as though somebody is fumbling in an attempt to dance to it. As we approach the living room the music gets louder and louder.

"God damnit, Kit. Stop it. I'm supposed to be the man, it's my turn."

Saskia slaps a hand over her mouth to prevent her from laughing out loud. We peek in the door and I get my chance to see this mysterious Michael in the flesh. He and Kit are standing in the centre of the room, the furniture having been pushed back, and are stood facing each other in the waltz position.

"Well somebody has to lead and it clearly wasn't coming from you." Kit quips back.

"If you'd give me a chance, jeez, not everyone is musically inclined." Michael mutters, stepping back.

Kit sighs and shakes his head, stooping over to re-start the little tutorial video on his phone.

The boys reluctantly come back together and awkwardly take each others hands. They fumble a bit, attempting to follow the rhythm and failing. Kia is in fits of giggles and I can't contain it either. Why they're doing this I can't quite fathom, but it's hysterical to watch them try.

"Stop stepping on my feet." Kit says and Michael laughs, deliberately stepping on his foot again. Kit winces, his expression thunderous.

"Step on my foot again and I'll throw you out the window." He says gently, calm as anything but the intent very clear. He switches his position and smoothly takes the lead.

Kia nudges me and I reluctantly follow her up to her room. She sniggers the whole way, navigating her way to her room as she deposits her bag and gathers the things she needs.

I dither in the hall, my eyes sliding to the room to my left. The door is open and I feel like a bit of creep for looking. I don't move any closer, but I don't look away either. I know what I'm doing is a serious invasion of privacy but I can't help it. I want to know him, even though I have no conceivable reason. My curiosity wins and I peer a little closer.

Kit's bedroom is relatively plain, with white walls and the same wooden flooring as the hall. His bed covers are a deep green and although its a bit scatty, it's relatively clean.

There's row upon row of books, cd's and records and I find myself itching to go and look at them, to see where his tastes lie and whether we have anything in common.

The main thing that grabs my attention though, is the old, well loved piano. Sheet music is scattered around but I recognise the piece on the music stand. It's a recent orchestra piece and the same music sits on my music stand at home.

I smile fondly but my abstraction is interrupted as Kia bounds up to me, gently grabbing my elbow and guiding me away, proclaiming that she's ready to go.

We pass the living room quietly, the boys still oblivious to our presence. As we're leaving, I overhear just a fragment of conversation.

"You look exhausted man, are you sure this girl is worth it?"

"Undoubtedly."

The door closes and we walk towards my house. My mind replays that final word. It was spoken so gently, and with so much feeling I can't even begin to comprehend it.