Kyle
The music sounds and the dancers prepare. I stand in the corner alone as the first measure plays. I watch, envious, as my friend dances away with the man of her dreams in the dimmed light.
“Would you like to dance?” I hear a voice behind me. I turn, and in the semi-darkness, his blue eyes twinkle. I nod slowly and take his offered hand. He brings me to the center of the dance floor and bows like a gentlemen. I smile as I curtsey and put my hand on his shoulder. He waits a moment for the beat of the song before beginning to sway me.
“What’s your name?” he asks in a kind voice.
I look away from his face down at my feet. “Nella, short for Janelle,” I say as I look back up to his eyes. “What’s yours?” My voice barely carries over the sound of the slow music.
“I’m Kyle,” he says shortly. Kyle continues to sway me for a moment while he looks around at the other dance. He smiles mischievously and leans forward to whisper in my ear. “Do you want to make all the other dancers jealous?” he asks. I think of my friend and her partner. I would love to, only one problem.
I shake my head. “I can’t dance very well,” I say quietly.
Kyle smiles. “Then I’ll dance for you,” he says. He takes my hands and twists them over my head. I somehow end up facing the opposite direction with my arms crossed in front of my chest. We sway for a second before he lets go of one hand and spins me out. He pulls me back in slowly and once again he is holding me closely.
“Let the music flow through you,” he whispers. And, I do. The music picks up speed and Kyle moves me to match it, using methods from every type of dance I can think of. Once or twice he picks me up. We spin on the dance floor, pushing many couples to the side. I twirl and Kyle spins until the song ends abruptly.
We stop and look at each other breathless. I am leaning on one foot, the other in the air, Kyle holding me by my back, our faces so close. We look at each other for a moment or two while the next song begins to play. Kyle blinks and pulls me back up into a standing position.
“Thank you for dancing with me,” he says quietly, his hands resting on my hips.
I smile. “No, thank you,” I say. I want to keep talking, and to keep dancing, but my eyes dart behind Kyle. The entire room is looking at us. I drop my arms and turn to leave. I walk away only a few steps. But then my hand is caught. I turn to talk to Kyle, but my lips are suddenly caught.
I open my eyes wide to see Kyle’s face. His breath fells warm across my cheek and neck. His hand leaves mine as he gently reaches up and brushes the hair away from my face. I stand frozen for a moment before my hands reach up to his face. We pull away and smile.
“Just in case I never see you again,” he says with a laugh.
I shake my head. “No, I’ll be back next month.”
Kyle nods. “Then I’ll be here too.”
I smile and drop my hands. I turn and walk back to my friend who stares at me in shock, her mouth wide open.
“Are you ready to go?” I ask, ignoring her look. She nods slowly and follows me out. I look, one last time to Kyle, who smiles, before I leave. Until next month, I think as I turn and leave.
And what made the write-up more attractive was the sentence construction. Short and brief sentences always make the writing more interesting. Good work.
