#scenebreak
That afternoon, the crew decided dance practice was the best way to pretend everything was normal while keeping Katy safe. Pal stationed himself outside her house to protect it from vandalism. Officer Friendly parked outside the studio. He glared at me like I was a serial killer when I walked by.
The crew worked on the new material I’d given Katy, and I stretched and pretended to practice my “skilz.” I played at jazz isolations and some slow breakdancing exercises. Since I knew these guys made fun of ballroom, no way was I going to run through Cuban motion or rise and fall.
Corey jumped every time the door opened, which made some of his steps unique, but they were pretty one-of-a-kind anyway. Katy glanced in the mirrors every time. She caught me noticing her and smiled, jazzing me utterly. The mirror trick was our secret.
Ephraim never jumped though. He was cool as a cucumber. Hm.
I also used the mirrors to see if any of the guys were checking Katy out behind her back, but, well, she was the damn coach, so they should be watching her the whole time. I concentrated on Ephraim and K-pop, but I was a dancer, not Sherlock Holmes.
Katy demonstrated my combination for the really kick-ass bridge, and the whole crew went batshit crazy.
K-pop tried the moves immediately.
Juicy made an I’m-not-worthy mock bow.
Taco almost dropped his soda. His eyes opened huge and terrified.
Aww. . . he’d get it.
Eventually. . .
Er. . . Nope.
Half an hour later, he wasn’t even close. He had the phrases before the bridge nailed so tight I could tell he’d been working his padded butt off, but the new part. . . my part? Nope.
He was frustrated.
The crew was frustrated.
Even Katy was frustrated. She called a break and snatched up a towel.
K-pop kept practicing the moves, grinning like a kid with a new video game mod.
Taco sat off in a corner by himself eating a taco.
Man, he looked down. My fault. Call it “over-choreographing.” I’d had so much fun impressing Katy with my mad moves, I completely forgot about the folks who had to learn them.
Watching the conversation between Juicy and Katy, I could tell Katy wanted to drop the material since Taco couldn’t do it. Juicy wasn’t happy. She loved the new stuff.
The rest of the crew would be pissed, too.
Duh.
Shitstix.
My mind raced.
I caught Taco’s attention.
After stuffing the snack back in the pack, he jogged over.
I told him my idea.
His eyes popped open as if I’d just asked him to strip naked and whack off in front of us.
“Trust me,” I assured him. “And if Katy’s pissed, it’s all on me.”
“Tcha it is,” he said, but he smiled as he slunk to his bag. He reached into his snack pack, glanced up at me and left the tacos where they were.
Next, I wandered to the water bottles, leaning close to Katy. “I screwed up.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“That should have been a feature,” I explained. “It’s too much for the whole crew. Do me a solid and just run what you have from start to finish.”
She leaned closer, pretending to rearrange the bottles. “They can’t do it in pieces. How will they run it through?”
“You have speed control?”
She nodded.
“Tell them you’re going to slow it down, but don’t.”
Now she looked at me like I was insane.
“You’re a better teacher than me, but I’m a better bullshit artist, okay?”
She smiled at the compliment and rolled her eyes at the rest.
“Please?”
She smiled again. “Okay.”
Without giving her a chance to change her mind, I hopped away from the bar and clapped my hands. “Hey, boy-zeds and gurl-zeds who are way too cool for ballroom. A breakin’ coach I know in Houston heard I’m hanging out with a crew and wants to see what you got on deck.” That had their interest. “If I send him a video, he’ll give you some pointers and maybe send me a few moves for you.” I pulled out my cell and held it up.
Katy moved forward on cue. “I don’t know, Foxtrot. We just learned it. . .”
“If it were perfect would you need tips from a Houston coach who normally charges $200 an hour and produces music videos?”
Yeah, now they amped up.
Taco wandered past with his back to the crew. His eyes were desperate and his jaw wide open.
“Tell you what,” I suggested. “Take it down like ten percent and just run it straight through, screw-ups and all. Don’t stop for anything.” I stood my cell up against a water bottle and set it to record. “And let’s get Tah-ngo front and center.”
The crew hooted and hollered, and Katy seemed to like the attention. Hey, if I pulled this off, she might even keep the nickname.
This was something my dad did with students who couldn’t loosen up in the ring. Raise the stakes in a way that’s perfectly safe and don’t let them think about it. Just make them do it. Throwing an arm around Katy, I dragged her to the center of the group. She usually kept to the side to avoid overshadowing the others.
“Okay, killaz,” I hollered in my worst oh-so-street voice. “Let’s see how you tro down wit’ da bad boyz-z-z.” It was goofy enough for them to know it was a joke. With the morning we’d all had, we really needed a joke.
They took their places.
I hit the studio club lights, filling the space with red, blue and green. The lights flashed and spun across the floor.
The crew shouted.
“Are you freakin’ ready?” I called.
More noise.
I killed the chandeliers so all we had were the club lights. “Are you freakin’ ready?!!”
They filled the studio with their uproar. Even Katy joined in.
“Go!” I hit play after making sure the volume was so high the old farts who’d fill this place for a dance that night would complain because they’d hear the echoes.
They danced. They put everything into it and the energy was killer. Total Glee. Well, beginning of the first season when the actors were still pretending to suck. Oh, come on, a pep talk creates energy; it doesn’t make magic.
I hooted and clapped and shouted.
They weren’t half bad. Getting them to loosen up and just go balls out really did make a difference. Even Taco was kind of fun to watch.
Then they reached the bridge.
I held my breath.
While the rest of the crew managed a pretty passable job with the complicated new piece, Taco glanced my way and I gave him a thumbs up. The music dove into badass mode, a stellar dubstep bridge that utterly rocked. . . and Taco went cra-azy. He pulled a Running Man and a Roger Rabbit. . . every bad hip hop cliché he knew.
Katy stopped mid-step and glared at him with her hands on her hips and a look that should have destroyed him instantly, but the little guy kept going. He even broke out his Water the Lawn. It was total retro.
Everyone else kept dancing but watched the scene, not sure what to do. As soon as the bridge was done, Taco jumped right back into the choreography, glancing at Katy, as if he’d just been possessed by the ghost of hip hop past and couldn’t stop himself.
When I killed the music, the crew fell out. They surrounded Taco to prevent Katy from destroying him, patting him on the shoulders and laughing.
K-pop looked down at me. “Tell me you got that, hai?”
I nodded and jabbed a thumb at the cell on the table. He picked it up.
Juicy laughed so hard she could barely talk. “We have to do it just like that,” she said. “You have to stop and give him that total pissed-off-mom look. And then. . . and then. . .”
“Then jump back in after the bridge,” Cosita finished for her.
Fist bumps and high fives all ar
ound. Taco grinned so much I swear his face almost cracked. It could be his shtick. Once in a while he could break out the old school crap and go crazy. People would wait for it, wondering when it would start. Instead of the weakest link, he’d become the meme.
Then the world slowed down. Katy draped an arm around Taco’s neck and drew him closer. She kissed his forehead to let him know she wasn’t mad about the unauthorized deviation, and his face colored dark, beet red.
The kind of red that might mean a serious crush.
Wow. Was anyone above suspicion? Probably not. I moved away and shook off the heebie jeebies.
“Hey, Foxtrot.”
Normal time resumed.
Katy stood close enough I had to swallow to keep from coughing.
She wore her snarky smile. “I’m impressed.”
Unable to respond, I turned to watch the crew and pretended I was worldly and casual.
“That was stellar.” She bumped my shoulder. “Maybe there is hope for you yet, Mr. Foxtrot.”
I gave her a humble head bow. “We can only hope, Ms. Katy.”
She backed away and waved her hands. “Katy? Who’s this Katy?” She turned away with a wink. “I thought my name was Tango.”
Score!
Yes!
Fucking yes!!
I pretended to be all cool and nonchalant while she got them under control. Corey worked with Taco trying to learn the Running Man, completely unaware that the move was older than he was and only good for comic effect. He couldn’t do it, anyway. He noticed me watching and gave me a big thumbs up, which I returned.
Okay, K-pop should’ve been my best friend there, not the dude dating the girl I could not stop thinking about. Corey draped an arm over Katy’s shoulders. She leaned into him, but I caught her glance at me in the mirror before pointedly looking away.
Three days in the new town and I found myself in the middle of some kind of love triangle best left to Shakespeare.
Deep breath.
K-pop ran up to me. “That was totally intense, hai. Wanna see it?”
He hovered over my shoulder while he played the video for me. He kind of bounced to the music. “So, you really know a breaker out of Houston?” Wow, he was trying so hard to be casual.
“Yep.”
He bumped me with his shoulder. “You holdin’ out, Foxtrot?”
“Maybe.”
He watched the video and subtly went through his moves.
“Hey.” I nudged him and he looked down at me from his very tallness. “You should come over some time. We have room to dance in the garage.”
“Yeah?” He moved around in front of me and held out a fist for me to bump.
I bumped. “And bring some tunes.”
He pulled back dramatically and eyed me with exaggerated suspicion. “Don’t tease me, bro. I’m fragile.”
“I’m a lot of things, K-pop, but I’m not a tease.”
He offered the fist again. This time, he bumped me, pulled away and wiggled his fingers. “Swe-e-et.”
So did I.
Okay, he was way two years ago, but maybe a guy didn’t need to live life next year to be cool in the here and now. Especially when he didn’t come with enough baggage to fill the taxi. I didn’t want to think about him being a guy who could do that to Tango’s car.
seven
“Katy?” Twist hurried across the street to her, half a block from her house.
She spun at the sound of her name, then one hand went to her ample chest. “Oh, my God, I thought it was that sick little twist. You scared me.”
“Sorry.” He smiled. “No twists here. Just an old friend.”
“What are you—” She glanced at his car halfway up the block. “Oh.”
“I’m staying at my mom’s for a few days to make sure you’re safe.”
She hugged him for two seconds. “That’s very sweet. But I’m fine, really.”
“Should you be going out this late?” He filed the scent of her spicy perfume away for when he was alone.
Katy put her hands on her waist and settled into one hip with determination in her eyes.
“Tell you what. Wherever you’re going, let me walk you there and back.”
A smile lit her face and she hugged him again. “That would be great.” She broke away and headed down the street. “But you only need to walk me one way. Foxtrot can walk me back.”
Twist stopped mid-step and almost stumbled. Son of a bitch.
What happened to “null and void”?