First Impressions Series (1-2)

by Nicole R. Locker

  Dylan attempted spins a few times, and I had to admit he was really good at it. He was a natural, and he caught on quick.

  “Are you ready for the real deal now? Let’s put it all together,” I said, not willing to take no for an answer.

  “Okay, yeah.” His smile spread across his whole face as he took the lead now and showed off his new skills.

  I could tell he was having fun, so after a couple of songs, I told him, “Let’s take a rest and get another drink so you can ask someone else to dance now.”

  He seemed like he was about to protest, but then agreed. We walked to the bar to get new drinks and went back to our table in the corner where my blazer and clutch served as our table reserved sign.

  One of the girls we had seen dancing earlier with her friend was standing alone beside another table after a few minutes, so I told him his opportunity was there for the taking. He stood up, gave me a mischievous eyebrow raise, and walked over to the girl to request a dance.

  I sat with my drink and watched Dylan and all the other dancing figures. I thought he must have a natural athletic ability, because he had really picked up the dance moves in no time and seemed so at ease.

  After a few songs, I could see the girl take his hand and walk off the dance floor. She was obviously impressed with his dance skills, and probably that gorgeous face that went along with the nice build of his body.

  They carried on a short conversation across the room before he pulled out his phone and entered her phone number. He took her hand and gave her one more twirl before turning and heading back over to the table I was still sitting at.

  “She seemed nice,” I half-said and half-asked.

  “Yeah, I think so. Looks like maybe you know what you’re talking about after all, huh?”

  “We’ll see. Don’t just settle for the first girl you meet. You see where that’s gotten you so far.”

  Dylan danced with a few more girls, and saved a few more dances for me before the night was over. Just before we left, I accepted a dance from an attractive guy with a thick Spanish accent. He mentioned he was Cubano, and loved to come dancing here when he was in town visiting. Dylan conveniently cut in at the end of the first song I danced with Mr. Cubano and mentioned he was about ready to call it a night.

  Fair enough. He had spent hours at soccer practice before coming out for a full night of dancing.

  We stood outside waiting for a cab.

  “Aren’t you cold?” I asked, noticing he wasn’t wearing a jacket.

  “No, I run hot most of the time. It feels good out here after dancing the past couple of hours,” he replied.

  When a cab arrived, he held the door open for me and climbed in behind me.

  “I don’t think you live far from me. I’ll have the cabbie drop you off first and I’ll pay the cab fare if that sounds good to you,” he offered.

  “Okay, that would be great. Thank you.”

  We rode in tired but comfortable silence for a while. As we neared my apartment building, he finally spoke.

  “I had a great time tonight. Thanks for getting me out of my comfort zone. It was fun trying something new.”

  “Don’t mention it. I’m glad you liked it. You’ll have to tell me how things go with the girl who gave you her number earlier.”

  “Sure… So when should we meet up next?” he asked. “Since it seems you apparently know your stuff.”

  “You want to try for next weekend? I can’t think of anything I have planned so far.”

  He smiled. “Yeah, okay. Next weekend sounds good. Friday?”

  “Let’s try for Saturday. One of my favorite cover bands is playing at the Daylee Grind Saturday night, and I’m thinking that will be the perfect setting for the next time.”

  “That’s Halloween, right? No big costume rager?” he joked.

  “No.” I laughed. “I’m sure they might have a theme or something, but it should be pretty laid back,” I explained.

  “Alright, sounds good,” he agreed.

  As the cab turned the corner to the street in front of my apartment, I looked over at Dylan. He looked so angelic and peaceful there in the dark. The headlights of the passing cars swept over his strikingly handsome face.

  He didn’t need someone like me helping him find a girl. What was I really doing here? What did I really know about him? I would need to get to know him a lot better to really make this worthwhile for him. Otherwise, I would just be wasting his time.

  He got out of the car and walked around to get my door for me. Before I turned to walk into my building, I looked up at him.

  “Dylan?”

  “Yes?”

  “You said you wanted a girl with a mind of her own. The thing about girls with minds of their own is, you have to try harder to catch them. And work harder to keep them. They have higher standards than the girls you’re used to dating, than those girls over by the bar tonight with their dignity hanging out.”

  I thought he might say something, but he just looked down into my eyes silently in contemplation. After a few seconds, he finally nodded, silently acknowledging my words.

  I smiled at him, and to help lighten the mood before I broke away and walked inside, I told him, “Nice moves, by the way.”

  “Right back at ya, Zia,” he said with a laugh.

  “Oh, and Dylan?”

  “Yes, Zia?”

  “If you’re free next Friday, maybe it would be a good idea for us to meet up? I need to do my due diligence if I’m going to do this right. I need to find out a little more about you. You know, to figure out what kind of girl you would really like.”

  “Okay, Friday. I’ll come by after practice.”

  As I walked back up to my apartment that night, I couldn’t help but notice the broadening grin spread across my face.

  Round one was a success, and I found I couldn’t wait for round two.

  CHAPTER 3: DYLAN

  After a long week of classes, Thursday finally rolled around, and Zia and I had made plans for our first meet-up that Friday. I was looking forward to it, and was anxious to see where we would go.

  When I got out of my last class Thursday evening, I rode the campus shuttle to the East end of campus that was nearest to my apartment. When I stepped off the bus, a couple of girls stopped me and tried to make small talk. I didn’t want to be rude, so I stayed and obliged for a few minutes before going on my way.

  The next bus that came around stopped, and I noticed Zia stepping off before heading in the same direction as me. She must live close by me, I thought. Great, I could catch her and we could figure out in person what the plan would be for tomorrow night.

  I wanted to catch up with her, so I stole myself away as quickly as I could, but she had gotten a good head start on me. I had to jog to bridge the distance to make sure I didn’t lose her, in case she went a different direction that I didn’t see.

  When I got close behind her, I called her name to get her attention. “Zia? Wait up!”

  She stopped and turned around, her hands gripping her bag close to her, and I thought I saw relief wash over her face. Did I scare her? Damn, I felt like a jerk.

  “Hey, Dylan. I didn’t see you coming,” she breathed.

  “Yeah, sorry about that. I saw you get off the shuttle and thought I’d say hi.” I was walking beside her now, and was glad that I could walk with her the rest of the way home so that she wouldn’t be out here by herself in the darkening streets.

  “Oh, I didn’t think you noticed me. You seemed a bit preoccupied, and I didn’t want to interrupt,” she explained, seeming more relaxed.

  “It’s cool. So are we good for tomorrow night? What’s the plan?” I asked eagerly.

  “I thought we could try El Sabor. Do you know any Latin dances?” Zia replied as she looked up at me inquisitively.

  A nervous laugh escaped me. “I can’t say that I’ve ever tried any,” I admitted. “But I think I’m up for it.”

  “What time do you want to meet me there?” s
he asked.

  “I’ve got practice tomorrow evening, so I’ll need to go home, shower, eat…” Learn a Latin dance, I added silently. “Does ten o’clock sound okay?”

  “Sounds good. I’ll see you there. Wear comfortable shoes!” she warned. Then, she added with a laugh, “And watch YouTube videos of salsa dancing if you want to prepare in advance.”

  At that, we had arrived at the entrance of her apartment building. I offered to walk her up to her apartment, but she declined in a rush as she disappeared inside. She was only a few blocks away from the apartment building I lived in. Nice!

  I pulled out my phone and watched YouTube videos the rest of the walk home.

  * * *

  The next night after practice, I rushed home, ate, and showered in preparation for my night out with Zia. I had practiced my salsa dancing in the mirror from the night before while streaming some how-to YouTube videos.

  I’d always had a natural athletic ability, so I felt like I was picking up on the moves pretty well so far. Tonight would be the true test, and I had to admit I was looking forward to dancing with Zia. These dances were really sexy, and I could picture her body moving, swaying, and flowing beneath my fingers.

  I figured that I might have to take my time working for this, so I might as well enjoy the process.

  I had considered the options I had for tonight, depending on how things went. While I still held out hope that I could somehow make Zia fall for me, I knew it was a real possibility that I just wasn’t her type, because so far she had not made any indication that she was even remotely interested in any kind of romantic relationship with me.

  If that was how it was going to be, then I might as well pay attention and hear what she had to say, because either way, the girls I’d been dating just weren’t what I really wanted. Much as I didn’t want a serious relationship with the wrong girl, I couldn’t deny that a deeper connection with the right someone would be nice.

  As I stood in front of my bathroom mirror with a towel wrapped around my waist, I made myself presentable for the evening. I fixed my hair, tousled a little gel in it to give it that perfectly messy look, then dabbed a hint of cologne to my neck and chest, 1 Million by Paco Rabanne. Finally, I put on a polo shirt and jeans. I skipped a jacket since I tended to run hot and I knew I’d be dancing once we got to the club.

  While I was getting ready, my phone alerted me to a text from Jonas.

  Jonas: You coming out tonight?

  Me: Not tonight. Meeting up with Zia.

  Jonas: Hell yeah. Have fun bro.

  Me: Thanks, you too.

  Jonas: I want all the dirty details later.

  Don’t count on it, Jonas, I thought.

  It was just about time to head out, and I decided to take a cab since we’d probably be having some drinks. Once the cab got there, I gave the driver the address of my destination, and I arrived a few minutes early.

  Zia was already there, standing at the bar with a mixed drink that looked like a rum and coke. She looked amazing in a silky, spaghetti strap shirt with a black blazer, paired with a nice, tight pair of jeans to show off her feminine curves.

  “Zia,” I greeted her as I approached the bar.

  “Hey, Dylan,” she greeted in return with a sweet smile.

  I signaled to the bartender and ordered a bottle of Dos Equis before we made our way over to a table where we sat together in a dark corner of the room, just off the dance floor area.

  Taking a swig of my beer, I looked around the room to see what the possibilities were. I was starting to think this might be a bad idea that could end up ruining any chances I might have with Zia. Then again, a little jealousy could work out in my favor.

  “So how do we do this?” I asked.

  “To start with, look around the room and tell me which girls you would normally be attracted to,” Zia instructed.

  Here we go. This could be awkward, but you shouldn’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to, right?

  I looked around, making my assessment, until I decided on some girls I saw standing by the bar. They were dressed in some brightly colored shirts and accessories, lots of curves and cleavage, and skirts they wouldn’t want to bend over in. They were all laughing, talking with each other, and looked like they were enjoying themselves. They’d probably already had a little too much to drink, even with it being this early in the night.

  “Honestly…” I looked at her and then pointed my chin in the girls’ direction.

  She looked at the girls, then back at me with an expression that said she knew something I didn’t know.

  “You notice those girls because they’re trying so hard to be noticed,” she explained. Then she pointed over in another direction. “What about those girls on the dance floor, dancing with each other?”

  I looked at the girls she pointed out, taking the time to notice that, while they were dressed a little more comfortably and a little less flashy than the girls I had first pointed out, they were both attractive. They looked a lot more down-to-earth, if I was being honest.

  “Yeah, now that you mention it, they’re cute,” I admitted. “But what makes you think they’re any different from the other girls over there?”

  “Because these girls are probably here because they love to dance. Because they have an interest in something and they do it for themselves. Not because they want to please someone else. They just show more self-confidence. They don’t have to bare all their goods to come out here and have the time of their life,” Zia explained.

  I nodded as I took in what she said, wondering how she could gather all of that about people she didn’t know. I realized that she made sense.

  Zia told me to ask one of them to dance, but I laughed it off, telling her I didn’t think so.

  “What? Why not? You can’t go to the salsa club and not dance. That’s against the rules,” she informed me, smiling but pretending to be offended.

  “I’ve never salsa danced before. I can’t just go out there making a fool of myself like I know what I’m doing,” I explained. I wasn’t about to divulge anything about my practice sessions in front of my bedroom mirror the previous night.

  “Alright, alright. I’m no dance instructor, but I can show you the basics. The extra you’ll have to make up as you go.” Zia stood up and held her hand out to me, which I took in mine as she led the way onto an empty space on the dance floor.

  As we stood face to face, she grabbed my other hand, and the moment her fingers touched mine, I could feel electricity move through me from the point of contact like a shiver down my spine. I wondered if she felt it, too, but she didn’t skip a beat before moving on to the play-by-play instructions of the basics of the dance.

  Once she finished the mini lesson, she said, “Let’s repeat that a few times until you feel comfortable with it, and remember, move your hips. Make it sexy. Your hands should always either be holding my hands or holding my body.”

  She didn’t have to tell me that twice. I took advantage of the closeness while I had the chance, savoring the feel of her soft skin and the delicate curves of her body beneath my touch.

  I felt like we were both really enjoying ourselves, and I was picking up the dance moves pretty quickly between Zia’s demonstration and looking around the room to see what other people were doing.

  I had to admit I was having a great time. I wondered why I had never been salsa dancing before.

  Finally after several songs, Zia said, “Let’s take a rest and get another drink so you can ask someone else to dance now.”

  I wanted to protest, but after further thought, I decided to go with it and do what Zia wanted. I had to admit I was a little disappointed that we were having such a great time together, and she was still determined to set me up with some other girl. I was losing hope that being more than friends with her might ever be an option.

  We went to the bar for another round of drinks, and then back to sit at our table where Zia had left her jacket and purse. It wasn’t lon
g before Zia pointed out one of the girls we’d observed dancing earlier, who was now standing alone by a table nearby. Zia urged me to ask the girl to dance, so I took another long sip of my beer before standing up to walk over to the girl.

  “Hi, I’m Dylan. Would you like to dance?” I asked the girl as I held my hand out to her in offering.

  The girl looked up at me, eyes wide with what looked like recognition, and she smiled. “I’m Bianca, and sure.”

  She took my hand and we made our way to the floor.

  “I’m new at this, so hopefully I can keep up. I saw you dancing earlier, and you look like you’ve been doing this for a while. You looked great,” I told Bianca as we began.

  In my experience, flattery got you everywhere with women. You tell them what they want to hear, and they become putty in your hands.

  Bianca and I danced a few songs together, and I had to admit, I was really getting into the groove of this salsa dancing thing. It had a particular structure to it, but it still left a lot of room for improvisation with the spins and the moving around. It also had the potential for being a really sexy dance, getting as close to the dancing partner as one would dare.

  After the end of the third song, Bianca took my hand and led me off the floor opposite the side of the room that Zia still sat in at our table.

  “So, can I get your number? Maybe we could hang out again sometime,” Bianca requested with a light-hearted smile.

  “Yeah, that would be great. But I’m in the process of changing phone carriers. I’d hate to give you a number that won’t work soon,” I lied. “How about I get your number instead?”

  “Sure,” she agreed, and then recited her phone number to me as I entered it into my cell phone.

  I had to be really selective about who I gave my number to. Handing it out freely was how I got myself some obsessive stalkers in the not-so-distant past. Not that Bianca seemed like the crazy type, but I couldn’t be too careful.

  Before I walked away, I took Bianca by the hand and gave her one more spin. “Talk to you soon,” I told her as I headed back over to Zia and our table.