by Seven Steps
Gah! We were so close! What was the problem now?
“Sophia, if Aunt Pam finds out you’re here, we’re both gonna be in a lot of trouble.”
My lungs locked at the mention of my mother’s name. I quickly scanned the gym, reassuring myself that my mom wasn’t here. When I didn’t see her eagle eyes, my lungs drew in another breath.
“She’s not here. She’s back at your house with Aunt Beatrice. Exactly where we left her. Now let’s go dance.”
But Quincey didn’t budge. Sweat gathered on his dark forehead and fogged his thin framed glasses. He looked like a man who’d been caught in the rain.
“Sophia, I—”
“Q, it’s your senior prom. Can’t you just relax and try to have some fun? Please?”
He considered this, then blew out two breaths, as if pumping himself up for the idea.
“Have fun. Yeah. I can do that. I can have fun. I… I… I think I just need some punch first.”
He pulled me back toward the punch table, and I sighed as my beloved dance floor seemed farther away than ever.
If I didn’t dance soon, I was going to explode!
I kept my arms at my side and not so patiently waited while he grabbed a cup of punch from the table and downed it in one gulp.
“Better?” I asked.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.
“Yeah. Better.”
“Good.” I gestured to the dance floor. “Can we go dance now?”
“Cotton Eyed Joe” slowly bled into “Show Me The Meaning Of Being Lonely” by The Backstreet Boys.
I sighed as I watched the crowd scurry to find partners to slow dance with.
I’d never slow danced with a boy before. I’d never danced with a boy, period. But right now, in this moment, I wanted to slow dance so badly my heart ached. I wanted a cute boy to wrap his strong arms around me and gaze lovingly into my eyes. I wanted butterflies in my gut and to be kissed.
I wanted to be in love.
“We’ll dance when the music comes back,” Quincey said, pouring himself another glass of punch.
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to suppress my shivers of loneliness, when I heard Quincey shout.
“Hey, Joe. You made it.”
I turned to my left and my mouth dropped open.
A boy with sun-tanned skin and the sexiest smile I’d ever seen clapped Quincey on the back. He was big. Like, really big. At least six-foot-four and built like a cement truck. Even his jaw looked strong enough to chew on rocks and not show any wear for it. Dark hair poked out from under his camo hat, which didn’t go with his tux at all. But somehow, it worked on him.
He was gorgeous. Who was he?
I smoothed down the stubborn, wispy hairs that sprung from my long, black ponytail, suddenly regretting the decision to dress so casually.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” the boy said.
Then, his hazel eyes raked over me, and my heart skipped a beat.
“You’re not Kia,” he said.
“She’s a friend,” Quincey replied, a little too loud and high-pitched. “Just a friend. Not even a friend, really. Just a girl I met outside.”
I sucked in a breath. “Quincey!”
My beloved cousin’s eyes widened in fear and embarrassment and he cleared his throat.
Way to be smooth, cuz.
“This, uh,” Quincey stuttered. “This is, uh—”
“Georgia Rose.” I held out one shaky hand, ignoring my cousin’s quizzical look.
The boy’s grin widened as his large hand wrapped around mine. Heat ran from where our fingers touched all the way up my arm. I glanced down at our contrasting skin. His nearly golden, mine a little darker than tan. I liked the way they looked together.
“Josiah Walker,” he said in a rich Southern twang. “You can call me Joe. Or, you can call me what everyone else calls me.”
“And what’s that?”
“Superman.”
Wow. Cocky much? I looked at my cousin for confirmation, and he wrinkled his nose in response.
“He’s the team captain,” Quincey said. “It’s a stupid thing we do.”
“Not so stupid,” Joe said. “I saved a dog from a burning house once. The name’s stuck ever since.”
“Weren’t you scared?” I asked.
Joe shrugged. “Yes, ma’am. But my mama says ain’t nothing wrong with a little fear as long as it doesn’t keep you from doing what’s right. Saving that dog was the right thing to do, no matter how scared I was.”
“I’ll bet the dog was grateful for it.”
“Well, he peed all over me, which, I’m assuming, is thank you for saving my life in dog language. At least that’s what I tell myself.”
Joe and I shared a chuckle. That’s when I realized that our hands were still clasped. He must’ve realized it too because he finally released me and slipped his hands into the pocket of his tuxedo pants.
My hand suddenly felt cold and exposed. Was that normal?
“So, what school do you go to?” he asked.
“Old Pine.” The lie rolled off my tongue like water.
I wasn’t a liar by nature, but these were desperate times. I had to tell Joe my name was Georgia Rose. What if Joe mentioned to someone that he’d seen a girl named Sophia Johnson at the prom? What if word got back to my mom? I’d be on punishment for the rest of my life! That meant no phone, no radio, and extra church services during the week. Nope. It was better to go full incognito even though I hated lying, especially to a boy as nice as Joe.
“Old Pine high school? Is that around here?” Joe asked.
“It’s in Mississippi. Where I’m from.”
Quincey’s eyebrows nearly touched his perfectly shaped hairline. I was sure I was going to get an earful when I got back to his house.
“Mississippi’s far away from here. Especially for a girl Q just met outside.”
I nodded. “Sure is.”
I could tell he wanted more of the story, but I didn’t offer it. Details got too dangerous. Too messy.
“So, uh, what happened to your date, Joe?” Quincey asked.
Joe ran his hand along the back of his neck.
“We broke up.”
“You broke up with Josie?” Quincey asked.
Joe nodded, avoiding Quincey’s eye.
“Yeah. A few days ago. No big deal.”
The two exchanged a long look, and I could tell they were having a silent conversation. Then, Quincey stuffed his hands into his tuxedo pocket, his eyes flittering between Joe and me.
“You know what, Soph, er, Georgia? I’m not feeling so hot right now. Why don’t you hang out with Joe for a while?”
I stuttered. “What? Me?”
“Yeah. You said you wanted to dance. So…”
My heart leapt into my throat. It was one thing to hang out with a cute guy while my cousin was around as a buffer. But Joe and I… dancing? I’d never danced with a boy before. What if he thought I looked like an idiot? What if I crashed into him? What if I stepped on his toes? I was nervous, but, deep down inside, I was excited too. Even if I totally embarrassed myself, at least I could die knowing I’d danced with a guy once.
Joe waved his hands like he was trying to shoo away a fly. “You don’t have to,” he said. “It’s totally cool.”
My leaping heart took a nose dive, crash landing into my sneakers.
So, he didn’t want to dance with me? My cheeks burned in embarrassment.
“Come on, Joe.” Quincey touched his arm. “Georgia here didn’t go to her prom, and she’s been wanting to cut up on the dance floor for weeks. If you could show her a good time, I’d consider it a personal favor.”
Jeez! Was Quincey really begging Joe to dance with me? Was I that bad? And even if I was, how would Joe know? We’d only said like eight words to each other.
Joe poured himself a plastic cup of punch, downing it in one gulp as if it were whiskey.
I wanted to crawl under a rock. I’d ju
st come here to support my cousin and dance, not ruin someone else’s night. And I definitely did not want to be anyone’s pity date. I did not need Quincey begging people to dance with me. And I didn’t need to hang out with Joe all night either, no matter how cute he was.
“No worries,” I said. “I’ll just hang out on my own.”
I turned from them and power walked to the dance floor alone. Tonight was about fun, and I was determined to have it, with or without Quincey or Joe. Who knew when my next opportunity would be.
I cemented my resolve, let my will overrule my embarrassment, and pushed my way into the middle of the dance floor.
At first, my moves were, at best, robotic. Stiff back, awkward coordination. But, after a few songs, my body loosened up, and I bobbed and bounced to the fast-paced music that flooded the speakers.
My favorite song came on and I closed my eyes and sang along to it, careful to keep enough space between me and the tall boy and his date standing next to me so we didn’t bump into each other.
I rocked out to nearly half the song, having the time of my life, when I felt a presence behind me.
My eyes popped open and I turned, ready to apologize, when I saw Joe with a huge grin on his face.
I frowned.
Great. He must’ve felt really sorry for me if he sought me out all the way over here.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said. “I’m having fun on my own.”
“I know.”
He started a bounce step move, occasionally touching the rim of his camo hat.
“Joe, what are you doing?”
He shrugged. “I like this song.”
I crossed my arms. “Really?”
He grabbed my hand and spun me around once.
When I’d completed my rotation, I snatched my hand away.
“Don’t you have any friends to party with?” I demanded, still slightly dizzy from the spin.
“Yeah.”
I raised my eyebrows, but he didn’t seem to follow my logic.
Quincey had probably sent him here to babysit me. Well, Mr. Walker, I did not need a babysitter.
“Come on,” he said. “Give me one dance. If you don’t want to dance with me after that, then I’ll go.”
Boy, this guy had a chivalrous streak. But, if all it took was one dance for him to finally be on his way, then I was willing to risk it.
“One dance?” I asked.
He gave me a cocky smile. “That’s right. One dance.”
I threw my hands up in defeat. “Fine.”
“Oh, I forgot to mention.” He did a spin move. “It’s a dance battle.”
The music got faster, and Joe took a step back, giving himself lots of room to show off his moves. I had to admit, he was a pretty good dancer for such a big guy. I didn’t consider myself a great dancer, as unpracticed as I was, but I liked to think I held my own.
The music got even faster, going into a calypso song, and for what seemed like the shortest and longest moment in time, Josiah and I danced together, jumping, bouncing and twirling to the beat. When I did a step, he’d build on it, or do something completely new.
I was still a little embarrassed dancing in front of him, but I was also super competitive. Plus, his confident, warm, boyish grin put me at ease.
Before I knew it, the battle was over, changed into something much more peaceful. Our bodies tuned to each other. My hand knew when he wanted to grab it, and his feet stepped back when I stepped forward. I knew when he wanted to spin me (which he did often) and I stopped getting dizzy after the second time. He even dipped me once, which was so ridiculous that we both burst out laughing. After a while, I actually let go and allowed myself to have real, unadulterated fun.
Time passed, with the music jumping between hip hop, old school reggae, calypso, and even the electric slide, though they did it differently than what Quincey had taught me. Thankfully, Joe guided me through the moves.
“You’re a pretty good dancer… for a Mississippi girl,” he said, taking my hand for another spin once the song ended.
I felt my smile widen. “You’re not so bad yourself… for a Texas boy.”
I slipped on something mid spin, tumbling right into Joe’s massive chest. His arms immediately wrapped around me, squeezing me close as I struggled to get to my feet.
Every ounce of flesh below me felt muscled and solid. My heartbeat picked up. The scent of Irish Spring soap drifted into my nose, mixed with something else that made my head spin. I inhaled deeply, unable to stop myself. God, did all boys smell so good?
“You all right?” he asked, his voice rough like gravel.
I straightened. Did he notice me sniffing him? That would be so embarrassing! What was wrong with me tonight?
“I’m fine,” I said. But my voice was whisper soft. Had he even heard me?
The lights dimmed, and a slow song floated around us.
My gut clenched.
Would Joe want to slow dance with me? I’d never danced to a slow song before. It wasn’t exactly something Quincey and I practiced. How would I stand? Where would I put my hands? How would I move my feet?
It was at exactly that moment I realized Joe hadn’t let go of me. Yes, I was standing upright now, but his hands were still wrapped around my back.
What did that mean? What did any of this mean?
His intense hazel gaze bore into mine, sending goose bumps rushing over my skin.
My hands shook, and I started to hide them behind my back. Before I could, Joe gently placed both my hands on his shoulders. Then, he rested his hands right below my ribs.
It felt like I was going to shiver right out of my skin. Did he feel it too? If he did, he didn’t say anything. He just stepped closer, leaving only an inch of space between us. Then, we slowly rocked to “I Could Fall In Love With You” by Selena.
I was smiling so hard my cheeks hurt. Delight and elation flowed through me. The moment I’d dreamed about was real, and it was here. It felt like I’d just won the lottery.
Heat spread from where Joe’s hands touched, and my stomach filled with butterflies.
I kept my gaze on his chest, too nervous to look into his eyes out of fear of what he’d see in me.
Joe gently squeezed my sides.
“You all right down there, Little Bit?” he asked.
I swallowed and willed myself to look up at him.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Good.”
What could I say? I was the queen of hiding my emotions. Not.
“You had the right idea with that outfit. The T-shirt and jeans make you look as cool as a cucumber.”
I scoffed. “I’m sure the other girls don’t think so.”
“Who cares what they think? I think you look beautiful.”
I blushed at the compliment. No one had ever called me beautiful before. Did he really mean it, or was he just being nice? I couldn’t tell.
“Besides,” he said, “try dancing in a tux. I’m sure there’s a river of sweat around my feet.”
I chuckled, still trying to figure out his compliment. Did he really think I was beautiful?
“Metallica is one of my favorite bands,” he said.
My eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, they’re classic rock now, but I saw them in Dallas last year. They’re still awesome.”
“I’ve never met anyone else who likes Metallica.”
“Well, now you have me. I’ll give you my number, just in case you need a listening partner.”
His number? As in his phone number? My mom would kill me if she knew a boy had called me. Still, it was a nice thought.
I nodded. “Yeah. That would be cool.”
“So, what other bands do you like?”
We spent the rest of the song discussing all our favorite bands. Like me, Joe’s musical taste was eclectic, running the gamut from rock to pop to hip hop. We both liked the current hip hop scene, and we agreed that current pop was way more sugary than the po
p from a few years ago. And we both liked classic rock. When the music got loud again, we strolled toward a corner of the gym surrounded by tall haystacks. It was shadowy here, and with the larger than life decorations, and the mass of Joe’s body, we’d effectively given ourselves a sliver of privacy.
Our isolation made it suddenly very hard to breathe. I put a hand over my belly—a nervous habit.
Not that I was afraid of Joe. Yes, Josiah Walker was big, and devastatingly handsome. There was no doubt about that. But there was something else about him. A warmth. An openness. A gentleness. Not to mention the way he looked at me that made my gut fill with butterflies and my cheeks redden.
He stepped closer and the full height of his frame made me feel petite and feminine. At five-foot-seven, I often towered over girls my own age, but with Joe, I felt as if I were standing in the shade of a mighty tree. A handsome, mighty tree.
“So, what do you do for fun in Mississippi, besides listen to music?”
“Normal stuff, I guess. School. Chores. Church. You?”
“Same. Plus football. Some camping, fishing, and hunting here and there.”
“I gathered that from the hat.”
He touched his camo trucker hat.
“You like it?”
I nodded, a bit too vigorously. “Yeah. It’s different. Especially with the tux.”
He laughed. “Every tux needs a hat.”
“Don’t most people usually wear top hats?”
“I’m a country boy, little lady. And every country boy needs exactly two hats. A cowboy hat and a camouflage trucker hat. Even a pretty Mississippi girl like you should know that.”
His pretty words and sweet accent made my cheeks turn hot. My hands trembled as they rubbed small circles over my belly.
“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.”
I cringed. I’d already said that twice tonight? Ugh! It sounded like something someone in an old movie would say.
But Joe didn’t seem to mind. He simply smiled and dropped his gaze to my roaming hand.
“Pardon my asking, but you’re not hiding a bun in there, are you?”
He said it half laughingly, as if it was a big joke, but that didn’t stop my eyes from shooting wide-open.
“What? No! Why would you ask that?”
“Well, you keep touching your stomach. I just kind of thought that…” His cheeks flamed, and he looked down at his black dress shoes.