Trip the Light Fantastic

by Nicole Bea

  “I have no idea.” I shrug, twitching my lips up in a smile. “I guess it’s so she doesn’t have to put together a meal in these trying times. Or maybe they think that food will solve everything.”

  Lux laughs softly, poking one of my fingers with his own until I close mine around his hand. “So, I guess you already got the run-down of what’s going on with the club. I didn’t mean to dump it all on you like that, especially since it’s only been one class. I guess I’m just disappointed that things aren’t going the way I hoped they would.”

  “It’s okay, really. I understand what it’s like to be disappointed in something that you love and put time into.”

  “I’m really glad you agreed to help. I think showcasing a beginner dance will be great to show students what you can accomplish in only a few lessons. I mean, of course, you’re getting some different lessons than what they are, but still. They can get to your level too… eventually.”

  “My level is minimal at best.”

  “You’re doing amazing. You can come over a couple of nights and I’ll put together a routine we can practice together. It won’t be complicated. Like Jenn said, something simple.”

  I bite the inside of my lip, my leg starting to jiggle up and down under the table nervously. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want to get up there and embarrass myself.”

  Lux shakes his head. “You won’t. I’ll be there to make sure things go okay. It’s not like you’re dancing with a stranger. You’re dancing with me. We can even use that Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong song. You know how it goes, and you just have to follow the steps. Plus, in the auditorium, I can whisper the beats to you.”

  “Okay,” I respond after thinking for a moment.

  “Okay?”

  “Yes. I’ll do it.”

  Lux breaks into a smile, showing his dimples, and gives my hand a squeeze before letting my fingers go. “That means we need to celebrate with dinner before we have class. Thoughts on what to order? And how were the pancakes? Amazing, right?”

  “Pancakes were perfect, and I’m getting the tortellini again,” I say without hesitation. The pancakes were much better than the pasta ever could be, but I like the familiarity of ordering something I already know, plus tortellini is easy to eat while I’m already feeling nervous.

  Lux waves his hand toward Jenn, who strides over to our table, taking our order of two tortellini meals before disappearing into the back of the Oakwood again.

  Between talking about the student council decision and me regaling my first day, we don’t have much time to eat before dance starts at seven. The sky is starting to turn a faded wash of yellow and blue by the time we leave the bar, the ground is covered in puddles with the occasional ripple. We meet by the long windows of the student center again, pushing the tables out of the way so we have space to move around, and slowly students trickle into the open space—noticeably fewer than last time. I can see what Jenn and Lux are concerned about almost immediately.

  Jenn takes her spot at the front of the room by the windows with Lux when it becomes apparent our group has shrunk. She announces the issue with having enough people to keep the club going, repeating what Lux has already told me about the student council and paying rent for the space twice a week. They specify that would mean each participant would have to pay a membership fee, and they don’t really want to rely on student money to run a club that should be assisted by funding from the school. The few people in the room look disappointed, and one even picks up their things and leaves in the middle of the conversation.

  “This is all to say that we’re putting together an exhibition. It will be held in North Auditorium the first week of October, in conjunction with Passage College. We have a few contacts there and they run a dance program, so they’re willing to work with us to try and grow the dance community here at Bedford. In the meantime, we have a few weeks to have fun, so let’s get some practice in.”

  Jenn’s opens her mouth again when Lux interrupts her. “I thought I’d share with you all something exciting about the exhibition. Chelsea has offered to do a beginner’s dance with me to showcase the things you’ll be learning.”

  The students look around, trying to figure out who exactly ‘Chelsea’ is, only knowing that Lux isn’t talking about them. My face turns a hot, prickling red at the mention of the dance I only just agreed to, though I understand why Lux brought it up. I raise my hand barely above my waist and give a tiny wave so that everyone in the class knows he’s talking about me, even though I’m nervous about being called out.

  Then again, I’m trying to be brave—so I raise my hand a little higher before everyone turns back to face Lux and Jenn.

  Jenn speaks before Lux has a chance to say anything more about me, and he gives me a wink and a grin as she starts talking about practicing our steps from a couple of days ago—step, step, triple-step, step, step, triple-step.

  I’m a bit more comfortable with my footwork this time around, only tripping over my triple-step a few times and I’m able to catch myself before it affects my other steps during the song Lux and Jenn play at the end of the class. They also teach us a new move called the Charleston—rock, step, kick, step, double-kick, back, step. It feels impossible to master but it’s fun and bouncy, which might be why they show us something a bit more complicated. I think they’re grasping for something to keep us interested. Little does Jenn know, I’m here for Lux and the feeling that he gives me when we dance together, not for triple-steps or double-kicks.

  We have about five minutes left in the class when Jenn calls all ten of us back together, Lux toying with the music on his phone and scrolling over the screen to pause the song.

  “So, one last thing for today,” Jenn announces, looking over at me directly as Lux stands up and takes a spot by her side. “I was thinking that Chelsea and Lux could show us some of the things they’ve been working on together so you will know what’s coming up in our classes.”

  I am absolutely floored at Jenn calling me out, and I wish I could get sucked up into the floor tiles and disappear. Lux looks equally as surprised, but he is doing a better job of hiding it since he actually knows how to dance, and I certainly do not.

  “Oh, Jenn - I don’t think we have time for that tonight.”

  “We do, don’t worry. I made sure there were a few minutes left in the class. I’m sure everyone wants to see the kinds of dance moves you two have been practicing for the exhibition.”

  Jenn’s eyes are blazing, her gaze still pointed at me. She knows she’s got me by the threads of my own anxiety, which tells me a lot about her as a person, but also about what Lux may have said to her in their conversations. Unfortunately, my feet are frozen to the floor and I don’t know what to do. I can’t dance in front of these people, even if they might be only slightly worse or slightly better at the triple-step than I am. I’ll look like an absolute idiot.

  “I don’t think so, Jenn. There’s no use putting Chelsea on the spot right now. She’ll practice for the exhibition and everyone can see the dance when we perform.”

  “Oh, come on. A sneak peek isn’t going to hurt anyone.” Jenn offers up a sickly-sweet smile, and the other members of the class start to murmur. “I think it would be good for everyone to see what they can someday accomplish.”

  “Yeah, you’ve got this, Chelsea!” Trevor cheers from across the room, his red hair like flames standing up on end. “You’re obviously the best in the class. Besides Jenn and Lux, of course.”

  We all stand there in a peculiar silence for a moment before Lux walks to me and extends his hand.

  “Just trust me, okay?” he whispers under his breath, clearly frustrated with the situation but not sure of what else to do. “You’ve got this.”

  I reach my hand out and take Lux’s, and there’s scattered applause from the class members at Jenn’s guidance.

  “What song do you want, Lux?”

  “Something by Ella Fitzgerald.”

  We take our posit
ion in the middle of the room, Lux’s hand light on my back as he looks down at me. I can’t help that I’m biting the inside of my cheek, and he must be able to tell that I’m nervous because he gives my hand a little press and leans down to whisper in my ear. “Just do what feels right, okay? We’ll keep things basic. Just the regular steps and I’ll twirl you under my arm at the end, like we did the first night, okay?”

  “I had wine the first night.”

  “For the next three minutes, you’ll have me.”

  A light song begins to play a moment later, and it only takes a few steps before I’m totally lost in Lux and the movement of his body. It’s the same as it was the other night in his apartment, minus the part where I’d had half a bottle of Moscato to loosen me up. We swing across the floor, close to one another, guided by the lyrics and the tone of Ella’s voice. The steps are simple, just like Lux said, and I only mess up the triple-step in the smallest way at the very beginning of the dance. Lux doesn’t even hesitate, he just keeps me moving around the floor before we finish with a flourish, him dipping me down toward the tiles. I’m there, spine curved over his arm, looking up into his eyes, and for the next three seconds, he’s right. I just have him.

  For the three seconds after that, I have a staring contest with Jenn as Lux lifts me back to a standing position, a rush of pure adrenaline going through my veins. Maybe I’m not as bad at this dancing thing as I thought.

  Chapter 9

  Jenn practically storms out of the student center after dismissing the class, Lux having barely let me go to stand on my own. My legs feel a bit wobbly, but I manage to keep myself upright long enough for everyone to leave the building except for us. We watch them all go, Jenn included, disappearing into the faded, foggy dark outside as we bask in the glow of our very small performance. If dancing with Lux is always going to be like this, I’d be more than happy to take part in the exhibition. I’ll have nothing to worry about, even if my nerves get the best of me leading up to it.

  “Chelsea?” Lux finally says my name, and I realize I’ve been lost in thoughts of triple-steps. “Do you want me to walk you back to your dorm?”

  I turn to look at him, mulling a thought or two over in my head. “Actually, do we have time to practice a little bit more? I liked the dance we did tonight, and I think it would be good for the exhibition.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to do the other Ella song? The one we danced to earlier this week?”

  " Whatever you think. This one just felt, I don’t know. It felt…”

  Lux laughs, leaning against an empty table. “It felt to me like you were trying to get revenge on Jenn.”

  “Okay, well, maybe there was that. I didn’t really love the way she called me out in front of everyone. She- I mean, what have you told her about us?”

  “Just the bare minimum. She doesn’t need any details. Things ended between her and me long enough ago that the other bits and pieces aren’t that important. They’d probably make her feel more frustrated in any case. We’re still friends, I mean, she’s helping me run this club. It might be getting run into the ground, but we’re running it nonetheless and I still care about her. But it’s not the same way that I care about you.”

  I smile a little, looking down at my feet for a moment, scuffing my shoe along the cheap flooring. “I do care about you, too, you know.”

  “I know.”

  There’s a pause, one filled with feelings and thoughts—at least on my end. When I think about practicing with Lux it reminds me of the last time we danced together, and everything that came afterward. Then the day rushed into night and I’ve been thrown into a breakwater ever since with the ocean smashing against me, unable to catch my breath. I’m overwhelmed with Lux and school and Mom, and the only thing that makes me forget for a while that I’m anxious about life is when that Ella song starts to play, and Lux holds me and we dance.

  “Can we talk about the other night?” Lux finally asks, his gaze flickering around the student center, seemingly to make sure that nobody else is around.

  “What about it?”

  He sucks in a deep breath, leaning back on the edge of the table, his fingers pressing into the wood. There’s a brief grin that crosses his face, like he’s remembering the way his hands grasped my skin and the sounds I made when he kissed me. “Everything about it, Chelsea. Are you feeling okay about what happened?”

  Am I feeling okay?

  The question makes my heart thrum, and I look up at Lux’s gently questioning face. There’s just enough of a five o’clock shadow there that I want to reach out and touch it, feel the prickles underneath my fingertips. The sensation of them on my skin would give me goosebumps all over, and then I’d have to kiss him because that’s the only reasonable thing to do when I’m feeling the way his touch would make me feel.

  “I’m fine. Better than fine, really.” I keep my voice quiet and low.

  Lux nods, understanding, his glance moving toward the door when a bunch of girls walk in, laughing, shaking off the rain, and talking before heading toward the Oakwood. “I have so much more to say but this doesn’t seem like the right time.”

  “It’s probably not,” I agree. “How about you walk me back to my dorm? We can talk on the way and walk slow.”

  “It’s still raining, you know.”

  Shrugging, I reply, “Then I guess we’ll just get wet.”

  Lux leads me out of the building, and we step into the rainfall, getting soaked through our clothes in the September evening. We take the long way back to Harris Hall, and by the time we arrive, the two of us are drenched in warm rain and my head is filled with stars.

  Throughout the rest of the week, I do my best to focus on my classes and call Mom every day to make sure that she’s doing okay. The doctor said she’s fine to drive now, so she’s gone to the store to pick up groceries and has been visiting her friend Sheila from a few houses down. Lux is busy with student council meetings and seminars and classes for the time being, so I have nights to myself, focusing on getting my FRE100 assignment as perfect as possible before handing it in the following week. I even perfect—or, in my limited knowledge, I perfect—the Charleston dance step that we were taught in the last class. On top of it all, I remind myself to get pancakes in the morning and something for supper, and soon the cafeteria doesn’t feel as overwhelming.

  The weekend rolls in, along with a post-tropical storm that keeps me indoors and texting Lux for the majority of Saturday while working on an essay for ENG100 and reading through my copy of The Virgin Suicides for the twelfth time since I bought it online. Sunday the weather improves so drastically it’s hard to believe there was a storm, save for the leaves and broken branches strewn about on the roads and pathways.

  Lux messages me around eleven, and it’s like I knew he was going to because I’m already showered and curled up in my blankets with my book, waiting for something to happen.

  Lux: Morning, Chelsea. I’m finally caught up with schoolwork. You want to come dance?

  Chelsea: I’d love to. When were you thinking?

  Lux: I’m making some of my famous pancakes now if you want to come by for brunch? We can have mimosas too.

  Chelsea: I’ll be there in ten minutes.

  I practically throw myself from the bed and out the door, excited to see Lux after a quiet rest of the week alone with my thoughts. When I make it to Luckheart Street, I press the button at the front door and he lets me in with a smile in his voice, and I dance from foot to foot in the elevator as I wait to make it to his floor, and then his apartment door. I give a curt little knock and I hear his voice yell at me from inside to come in. I open the door and the smell of cooking wafts out into the hall and surrounds me.

  My stomach growls a little, and I spot two full glasses on the countertop with what looks like orange juice.

  “Hey, Chelsea.” Lux has a spatula in his hand as he looks into the front entryway where I’m removing my shoes and zip-up sweater. “One of those glasses is f
or you, take either one.”

  “It smells amazing in here.” I walk across the floor and select my drink, taking a sip of the cold liquid. I’ve never had a mimosa before and have no idea what’s in it, but I think it’s champagne and orange juice based on the smell and my memory of having a celebratory drink with Mom when I was accepted into Bedford University.

  “I told you, the school pancakes barely rival mine.” He flips a pancake over in the frying pan, the opposite side a perfect, golden brown. “Some storm yesterday, huh? It felt like the whole building was shaking here.”

  “I think I missed a lot of it because I’m on the second floor. Not far enough from the ground and my room is in the grove.”

  “Oh, that’s true. I guess I’m higher up.” Lux flips another pancake before setting the spatula down and turning to me. He brushes up against my arm, giving me a gentle embrace and a kiss on the top of my head, then reaches for his own mimosa. “I missed seeing you the last couple of days. It’s been a little empty over here.”

  The pancakes are ready only moments later, and Lux pulls a pitcher filled with champagne and orange juice from the fridge, setting it on the kitchen bar. We fill up our glasses and he leads me into the living room, where we plunk ourselves down on the couch and eat our fill of fluffy pancakes that really do rival those in the cafeteria. The sun streams bright through the long windows of his apartment, casting beams of glowing light along the laminate floor and up the fabric arms of the furniture.

  Once we’ve eaten, Lux gathers our dishes while I push the coffee table out of the way so we have our own personal dance floor once again. He crosses the apartment to the laptop set up on the desk in the corner, opening up the music player application he used the other night and clicks on a playlist called ‘Swing Vibes.’ The familiar Ella Fitzgerald song starts to play, but he flips the track over to something new, a woman’s clear voice with an undertone that reminds me of the music that my father used to listen to.

  “What’s this one?” I ask, rocking my head from side to side slowly to catch the beat of the music.