“John! Come on.” Bill trailed him as they wove their way through underclassmen. “You’re my wingman.”
John looked over his shoulder at Bill. “You’ll have to fly alone.” He laughed and gave a shake of his head. They were almost to the front of the dance hall when the double doors opened and a group of girls stepped inside. A rainstorm had burst over Ann Arbor in the past ten minutes, and the girls squealed as they brushed the rain from their bare arms and dresses.
That’s when he saw her.
There amidst the other girls was one that took his breath. He’d never know why she looked up at him at that moment, but she did. The raindrops on her eyelashes made her blue eyes sparkle, and John was instantly sure of one thing.
He’d never seen any girl more beautiful.
And just like that he was Bill’s wingman once again. He stopped in his tracks and leaned toward his friend. “What a great dance, right, Bill? That’s what I was just saying, right?”
“What?” Bill was a little slow on the uptake. He followed John’s gaze and then he caught on. “That’s Elizabeth. Prettiest freshman of our class.”
“Definitely.” John felt like he was in a trance, the ground beneath him less sure than before. “Elizabeth.” The sound of her name on his lips felt right. Like he’d said it a thousand times before. “Come on. Let’s get some punch.”
John and Bill made their way back into the crowd, Bill celebrating the victory and John intent on one thing alone. Dancing with Elizabeth. Once they’d found their place near the drink table, John slipped his hands into his pockets and looked for her.
It didn’t take long to find her, because she was doing the same thing. Their eyes met across the crowded dance hall just as the Beatles came on.
The words filled John’s mind with possibilities. “All you need is love . . . all you need is love . . .”
Bill sang along beside him. “Come on, girls. Can’t you see me over here?” Bill said the words loud enough for only John to hear. “A little love, please! Right this way!”
John laughed. Bill always made him laugh. But he wasn’t sticking around for the private concert another minute. “I’ll be back.” He patted Bill on the shoulder. “You’ve got this.”
John made his way through the crowd again until he was standing right in front of the pretty brunette. John looked at her wet dress and grinned at her. “If this is a new style, no one wears it better.”
Her eyes shone brighter than the chandeliers that hung over the doorway. Elizabeth giggled and looked away briefly. As if she were surveying the room. When her eyes met his again she seemed suddenly shy. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“I’m John.” He grinned at her.
She did the same. “Elizabeth.”
“As for the compliment, that’s how it was intended.” John bowed like a knight of old. “Would the beautiful Elizabeth like to dance?”
Instantly she crossed her arms and took a step back. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
This wasn’t going to be easy. John didn’t care. He was too caught up in the nearness of her, the smell of her perfume to give up now. “You can’t? Or you won’t?” His tone wasn’t serious. He angled his head. “Because I’ll bet you’re a really great dancer, Miss Elizabeth.”
She laughed again, and once more she looked around.
John followed suit, trying to imagine what she was looking for. “If you’re running from the law, I’ve got you. No one’ll get past me.”
This time she laughed out loud. She stopped looking around and focused her attention straight on him. “My parents won’t let me dance. And even if they did, I can’t do it. I . . . never learned.”
John stared at her open-mouthed, the teasing still marking every moment. “They won’t let . . . ?” His voice trailed off, as if he was too shocked to finish the sentence.
“No.” She shook her head. Her eyes never left his, proof that she was enjoying the banter. “No dancing. Not for a minute.” Her eyes sparkled and she batted her lashes. “They’d kill me if they caught me here.”
“Here? In this innocent dance hall?” He looked around. “What could possibly happen here?”
“You’re crazy.” She laughed again. “I told my parents I was at my friend’s house. I wore one of her dresses and we snuck over. I’m serious.” She raised her brow, still flirty. “They’d kill me.”
“They won’t kill you.” John took her hand and led her toward the dance floor. “But what will kill you is not knowing how to dance.” He stopped midstride and she had no choice but to bump into him. He turned and searched her eyes, their faces inches apart. “Good thing I’m here.” He paused, so close he could smell the mint on her breath. “I’ll teach you everything I know.”
She looked breathless, as if the conversation and his confidence were all a little heady for her. John waited a few seconds, lost in her eyes, and then Chubby Checker’s “The Twist” came on. John grinned. “Come on. The twist is easy.”
“But I . . .”
“I’ll show you.” They were too committed now for her to change her mind. At least that’s how it seemed. Besides, her protesting seemed more a matter of form than of substance. Everything in her expression told him she didn’t want him to leave.
They found a spot on the edge of the floor and John took the lead. “Just do what I do.” He leaned close to her so she could hear him over the song. The twist really was easy. The variations were endless. Elizabeth watched him, and after thirty seconds of laughing and looking nervous, she began to dance.
John wasn’t a bit surprised that Elizabeth picked it up so easily. She had natural rhythm and looked better dancing the twist than most of the girls on the floor. When the music ended, John pulled her in for an impulsive hug. “That was perfect! You’re a pro, Elizabeth. Look at you!”
She was laughing again, but she stepped back from him. Seeming careful to keep her distance. “I always wanted to learn the jitterbug. Could you teach me that?”
No sooner had she said the words than Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood” came on. John couldn’t believe it. Whoever was in charge of music definitely played quite a mix. The DJ couldn’t have planned the songs any better. “The answer is yes, my dear. Follow me.”
They spent the next five minutes laughing and learning and dancing. John had hold of her hands, and when the song ended, he let go and raised his fists in the air. “You’re a natural. You’ve taken lessons all your life!”
“I haven’t.” She was out of breath, her cheeks rosy.
John would never forget the way she looked in that single moment. She was a wispy girl with long legs and pretty cheekbones. Her eyes shone beautiful bright blue against her long brunette hair, her white sleeveless dress swaying to the music. “You’re the most stunning girl here, Elizabeth.” John did a slight bow again. “I thought I should tell you.”
“Why, thank you.” She curtsied—proof that she’d done at least a little dancing in her friends’ rooms. John took her hand and led her to the drink table. He poured her a glass of punch and he caught her looking closely at him. “My mother’s right.”
“What’s that?” John handed her the drink and stood close so he could hear. “She must’ve told you tonight would change your life.”
“She doesn’t know I’m here.” Elizabeth clutched her drink. “My mother says I’m not ready to date boys. I’m too young.”
“And you think she’s right?” John cocked his head, keeping himself from laughing.
“Yes!” She shook her head. “I’ve been dancing with you all this time and I don’t even know your last name.”
“That!” John stroked his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Yes, that could be a problem.” He set down his glass and turned toward her. The whole experience was so surreal. He could barely remember his name. He locked eyes with her. “I’m John Baxter.” He wanted desperately to kiss her. But he kept the few inches that separated them. “And you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
&n
bsp; “Hello, John.” Her eyes were shy again. “And you’re the most handsome guy I’ve ever danced with.”
“Wait . . . I’m the only guy you’ve ever—”
“Come on.” More laughter while she found a spot for her glass. “You have to teach me how to swing!”
The night was something from a dream. Every minute of it, every song was etched forever in his heart. As midnight drew near, the DJ came over the loudspeaker. “Last dance of the night! Grab your girl, and let’s give it a go!”
The last song of the evening was one that would forever make him think of her. Whenever he heard it on the radio or at a wedding. It was their song that night, and it always would be.
The song was “Never My Love,” by the Association. As soon as the first notes played, John took her hand. This time he wasn’t in a hurry. His eyes melted into hers and he moved closer. So close he could feel her breath on his face. “What about a slow dance, Elizabeth?” He had never wanted to kiss a girl more than right then. “Can I teach you that?”
She swallowed, breathless. The teasing tone from earlier was now something deeper. A chemistry stronger than the two of them. “Yes, John.” Her cheek brushed against his. “Show me. Please.”
He led her carefully onto the dance floor this time. With everything in him he never wanted to let go of her hand. By then the first verse was halfway through. She stepped into his embrace and he eased his arm around her waist. “Feel the way my body moves.” He whispered the words near the side of her face. “Keep my rhythm. That’s all there is to it.”
“I will.” Their faces side by side, they began to sway and move to the music.
John wanted the song to last forever. He sang the lyrics quietly, so only she could hear. “You wonder if this heart of mine . . . will lose its desire for you. Never my love.”
A few times he caught a glimpse of her face, and each time her eyes were closed. As if she were feeling the same way he was. When the song ended, it took every bit of John’s willpower not to touch his lips to hers. Students began to file out of the dance hall, but John and Elizabeth stayed that way, cheek to cheek, lost in a slow dance they never wanted to leave.
Bill finally came up to him. “John . . . what are ya—” He stopped short. “Elizabeth. Your friends are leaving.”
She jolted from the moment and like Cinderella from a fairy-tale dream, she pulled away. “I have to go.”
“Wait.” John’s heart thudded in his chest. He couldn’t let her walk away without getting her number. He needed to see her again. No one had ever made him feel this way. He found a scrap of paper and a pen. “What’s your number? I want to take you out.”
“You can’t.” This time she wasn’t laughing. “I told you, John. My parents would never let me go.”
There had to be a chance at least. John’s mind raced. “Okay, then here.” He scribbled his number on the paper and handed it to her. “Call me. Find a way . . . please.”
She took it from him and slipped it into the pocket of her dress. Then just as she was about to run off, she came to him and hugged him. As they embraced he could feel her body against his, feel the way they fit together, and something else. He could sense the way she clung to him. She didn’t want to leave, either. Whatever crazy chemistry had ignited between them, she felt it, too. “Goodbye, John.” She whispered the words and then with one last look, she ran to join her friends.
John could barely draw a breath.
Bill walked up to him and waved his open hand in front of John’s eyes. “Earth to John Baxter. Hello.”
John laughed, but his heart wasn’t in it. All he wanted was to stand here on this very dance floor and relive every second of the night. Every dance and laugh and touch and moment with her near him.
But the janitor pushed a broom onto the floor. “Time to go, people. Let’s move it.”
“Standing here won’t bring her back.” Bill rolled his eyes. “Let’s get home, Mr. I-can’t-stay-at-the-dance-another-minute.”
John finally remembered to exhale. “She changed my mind.”
“You think?” Bill chuckled. “Tell me all about it at home.”
Back at the house, John didn’t share any but the most basic details. The night belonged to Elizabeth and him alone. He wouldn’t share it with anyone.
Three days passed and all John did was think of her. He couldn’t focus in class, couldn’t imagine studying for an exam. He couldn’t even get through a shift at the drugstore where he worked a few nights a week without feeling himself in her arms again.
Finally on the fourth day, the phone at the Wesleys’ house rang. It was three o’clock in the afternoon. John didn’t think anything of it until Joan Wesley lowered the receiver. “It’s for you.” She smiled and mouthed the words. “It’s a girl.”
John’s heart skipped a beat. He took the phone as quickly as he could. “Hello?”
“Hi. This is Betsy.” The girl paused. “I’m Elizabeth’s friend.” She uttered a shy laugh. “This probably seems crazy, but Elizabeth couldn’t call you from her house. She asked if you could meet her in thirty minutes on campus at the bench across from the science building.”
Only then did John realize he hadn’t asked Elizabeth where she lived. He had assumed she had a room in one of the dorms. But he remembered Elizabeth’s comments about her parents. “Does she . . . live with her mom and dad?”
“Yes. She can never call you from there.” The girl sounded proud of herself. “I told her I’d help.”
John felt a rush of relief. “Thank you, Betsy. You don’t know . . .”
“Actually, I do.” There was a smile in her voice. “What should I tell Elizabeth?”
“Tell her I’ll be there. I’d meet her on the moon if that’s where she wanted to go.”
John rode his bike to the bench and got there fifteen minutes early. Sure enough, at 3:30, Elizabeth appeared on the path, also riding a bicycle. She wore a pale pink blouse and navy short pants. Her pretty hair was pulled back in a ponytail.
When she climbed off the bike he took hold of both her hands. “You get more beautiful every time I see you.”
“Thanks.” She looked into his eyes, and the fear from the other night was back. “My parents would disown me if they knew I was doing this.”
“We aren’t doing anything.” He moved a step closer. “I just wanted to see you . . . to talk.”
That wasn’t what either of them wanted to do. The look in Elizabeth’s eyes told him that much.
“There was another question I didn’t ask you.” She released his hands and sat on the bench. Like at the dance she was breathless, but he doubted it was from the bike ride.
He stood there, looking at her, taking in the vision of her. “Ask it.”
“How old are you, John? The dance was for underclassmen.”
True. John winced. He took the seat beside her and shifted so he could see her. She did the same and their knees touched ever so lightly. Focus, John. You can’t lose this girl. He tried to think of the best way to say this. “I broke the rule.”
“John.” She shook her head and a quick laugh slipped between her lips. “How old are you? Thirty?”
“Wow.” He chuckled and leaned back a little. “I hope I don’t look that old.”
“You don’t.” She laughed. “I thought you were a sophomore. Betsy told me you were in medical school here.”
“I am. Yes. Second year.” He shrugged. “There never seemed to be a good time the other night to bring it up.”
“So you’re what . . . twenty-four?”
“Just turned.” He didn’t blink, didn’t look away. “And you?”
“Nineteen.” She leaned her head back and groaned softly. “Now my parents will definitely kill me. I break the rules and go to the dance and take up with the only second-year med student there.”
John knew he should be worried. She might be young, and she might be scared to death of her parents. But her words would stay with him always. Take up with . .
. that’s what she’d said. She had taken up with the only second-year med student. His smile started on the inside and took over his face. “We can find a way, Elizabeth. Age is just a number.”
Her eyes locked on to his again and the afternoon breeze made the moment feel magical. “It is, isn’t it?”
This time her words almost made him cheer out loud. She wasn’t going to run. They would find a way. They had to.
Before they knew it they’d devised a plan. With Betsy’s help they would meet here and he would take her wherever she wanted to go. Out to dinner . . . to Allmendinger Park . . . shopping at the mall, or just here. Sitting this way on a bench that would forever memorialize the beginning of their love.
Two weeks later the Wesley family left town for a long weekend at the lake. From the first night John wanted desperately to take her home, find a way for the two of them to be alone. A place where they wouldn’t have to look over their shoulders for her parents.
They were at the park that evening, swinging side by side and talking about the rigors of medical school, when John couldn’t wait another minute. He looked at her, taking his time. “My family’s gone.” He searched her eyes. “The house is empty.”
Elizabeth didn’t say anything. Her expression grew deeper, with the same sort of desire John had felt the minute she walked into the dance hall that first night. “I could . . . make you dinner.”
She smiled. “You’d make me dinner?”
They were the best words John had ever heard. He took her hand. “Let’s go.”
They bought ground beef and potatoes and carrots at the store and drove to his house. The whole time John wondered if she could hear his pounding heart. He didn’t want to do anything that would cross lines. He respected Elizabeth like he’d never respected any girl before. But once they set the groceries down on the kitchen table, he turned to her. “Elizabeth.”
She faced him, breathless, her lips slightly open. “Kiss me, John. Please.”
His heart felt like it would burst, but he kept his cool. He drew her close and wove his fingers into her hair. Then for the sweetest minute of his life he kissed her. One kiss became another and another.
Unlocked: A Love Story Page 7