It Takes Two To Tango

Chapter Twenty Four

At last night’s practice, Jude and I spent most of the time trying out a few of the moves that had so inspired us at the show case, and discussed which piece of music would be best.

After some quick googling, we came up with a few songs that might suit, and resolved to have a think about it when we got home. However, further listening on my part resulted in very little progress, as I either found songs that were unadulterated cheese, or the wrong tempo for the sort of dance we were planning on, so I’m just hoping that Jude has found something, as, after all, it was been him who came up with the idea of using El Tango De Roxanne, which had been, unarguably, the perfect choice. I’m sure someone as seemingly perfect as him can pull of the same trick twice.

As I make my way out of the house that afternoon, ready to return to the studio for another session, Molly meets me at the doorway, smiling hopefully.

‘You okay?’ I ask her, returning her smile. She’s been quiet recently, something I’ve not failed to ask her about, but my probing questions have availed me little- she tells me she’s just tired.

‘Yeah,’ she replies. ‘I was just wondering, uh, you see.’ She pauses, and bites her lip. ‘Well, Dan and I were wondering if you could watch us dance after your session?’

‘Me? Watch you dance?’ Whatever I had been expecting, it certainly hadn’t been this. Not at all.

Molly nods. ‘Well, yeah. You see, well… well, I’ll explain when we get there, you need to get going, don’t you?’

Thoroughly intrigued, yet already running late, I regretfully head out, still puzzling over what benefit I could possibly bring by watching Dan and Molly dance.

At least I’m over Dan, I tell myself, thankfully. Otherwise, this would have been extremely awkward. Ha. Even the thought of liking Dan makes me laugh. I have no idea what I saw in him; perhaps I was in love with the whole idea of being in love, rather than him. Because despite being attractive, Dan just didn’t have that… spark to him. It was almost like he didn’t have a character when he was with me. But anyway. That’s long in the past now. Thank goodness.

When Jude sees me, he’s full of suggestions for various songs, and so we get cracking right away, trying to improvise to the music he’s selected in the style we’ve decided upon.

As we move across the dance floor, I’m struck by how different this is to our original way of making up the tango routine. I was previously against all this improvising, thinking it a bit of a joke, but Jude’s taught me that it’s far more helpful than I ever thought imaginable.

‘What do you think?’ he asks me, as we pause our experimental dancing through one particular piece.

I shrug. ‘It’s not too bad…’ I begin.

‘But not great either?’ Jude finishes, with a knowing smirk.

I nod. ‘No. Got any more?’

Jude walks over to the music player, quickly flicking through some tracks. ‘This one?’ he asks, as the beginning music begins to play.

I listen carefully, taking in the beautiful piano introduction, along with the slightly sad sounding vocals. ‘It could work, actually.’

‘You think so?’

‘Mm,’ I say, and as he strides over to take me into his arms, we start moving around in an exploratory way to the music.

It’s an emotional piece that I can see fitting quite well with our theme, and when I tell Jude this, he nods.

‘I thought so too. Unless we want something a bit more dramatic?’

‘Dramatic, huh?’ I ask him, raising an eyebrow. ‘I never thought you were the sort for drama.’

‘Well, that tango we did was rather dramatic, Foxy,’ he tells me. ‘I thought we pulled it off rather well with all our theatrics.’

‘We definitely did that,’ I reply, with a chuckle. ‘Maybe you’re right then. Have you got anything more dramatic?’

‘You know me: prepared for anything.’ Jude changes the music again, and this time, a far more dramatic, yet still quite sad sounding piece begins to play. It’s quite catchy, and I bop along to the beat.

Usually this would earn a mocking comment from Jude, but instead, he just looks at me with that tender smile which I cannot get out of my mind.

I find myself slightly lost in smiling back.

*

All too soon, the session is over, and I remember that I promised Molly I’d go in and watch her. So I head off (reluctantly,) waving goodbye to Jude.

As I wait in their studio, Dan comes in early and stops short when he sees me. Then, his face relaxes, and he gives me a quick smile, before turning round to sort out his bag and do his warm ups.

I hold back a smile. I cannot believe I ever danced with this boy, spent my nights wishing we could be a couple, spent our sessions longing for him, and talked to Jessie for so many hours about how perfect we were for each other, and how the dancing would surely work itself out… soon?

I was so misguided. I can’t thank Sarah enough for swapping the couple round; who knows what I’d be doing if I was still dancing with him. Probably considering taking an axe to Dan the Tree. Or still worshipping his branch like self. Who knows?

There’s no point mulling over the what-ifs and the could-have-beens, but yet I still find myself wondering. I wouldn’t be nearly so content as I am now. I don’t think I could have gotten through my parent’s arguments if it wasn’t for Jude, so I might have still been in a mess about it.

Molly comes in, and her face lights up when she sees me. Coming over to hug me, she smiles at Dan. ‘Look: she came!’

Dan nods shortly and turns back around briskly. Molly rolls her eyes at me. I stifle a laugh.

When they’ve both finished warming up, Molly switches some music on, and they start to dance. It’s a waltz inspired sort of piece, with some traditional waltzing music.

Oh goodness me.

I didn’t think it was possible.

When I said that Dan and I were awkward, believe me, I meant it. But awkward does not even begin to cover what I see before my eyes now.

They both move as if every step is an effort, as if touching one another is something they want to keep to an absolute minimum. Even watching it is painful.

I feel myself cringe as I watch, and hope my expression doesn’t give me away. It’s so awkward, it’s making the entire atmosphere in the room feel as if it’s about to shatter into a thousand pieces at any given moment.  I don’t even know what to say, it’s that bad.

The music stops, and both of them look relieved. Molly looks over at me, expectantly.

‘Uh,’ I begin, not sure how to put what I just witnessed into words. ‘Uh, well, uh, it was, um-’

‘You don’t have to tell us.’ Molly walks over, coming to sit down next to me. Dan stays where he is, looking as if he’s standing to attention. ‘We know. We know all too well how terrible that was.’

‘It just… it just looked a bit awkward,’ I say, and Molly nods.

‘I know, it’s far too wooden and fake to even be called dancing. But we can’t do any better.’

Dan nods. ‘It’s just not working for us.’ He speaks?! Well, that’s a surprise.

‘And we think we know why,’ Molly adds.

‘Why?’ I say. Then it hits me. My breathing rate increases, I start to panic.

Oh no. Oh my goodness no. They want to change back. That must be it. But they can’t! I can’t deal with it! I can’t deal with losing him, with losing Jude now, now that we’ve just become friends!

No, this cannot be happening. Losing Jude would sap all of the strength out of me, all of my love of dancing, all of my inner strength I’d gathered to deal with the parental problems, everything.

My world is tumbling down.

‘Why?’ I repeat, and my voice croaks a little.

‘Well,’ Molly says, and the tension kills me. ‘Neither of us want to continue with dancing.’

I slump in my chair, so relieved that they don’t want to swap that my bones don’t seem to want to keep me up any more. Yet not continuing dancing? They must be insane.

‘You don’t want to continue?’ I say, slowly. ‘Are you sure? Why? When did you realise this? What went wrong?’

Dan shrugs. ‘I don’t know. I just feel as if I’m doing it just because I’ve been doing it for so many years. I lost my love of it a long time ago.’

Well, that explains the lack of chemistry, I suppose.

‘And I think I’m feeling pretty much the same,’ Molly says, looking at me. ‘I feel like I’m only doing it because I don’t have any other hobbies. But now I’ve grown up, I want a social life; I don’t want to diet; I want a boyfriend, like all the other girls I hang round with.’

I reach out to rest my hand on hers. ‘Then don’t carry on. There’s nothing worse than continuing with something you know you don’t enjoy, sweetie, and if you’re as sure as you sound, there’s no point carrying on dancing.’

Molly nods, and smiles widely. I can’t believe she’d want to give up something so amazing; even the thought of stopping dance makes me want to burst into tears or curl up into a ball and sob.

I glance at Dan. He looks equally relieved.

‘We were worried you’d try and persuade us to continue with it,’ Molly adds. ‘But I’m glad you agree with us. D’you think Sarah will be hurt?’

I shrug. ‘Who knows? She can’t expect you to carry on with something you don’t enjoy though, so don’t feel bad about it.’

Molly nods, and Dan picks up his bag. ‘I’m going to go then,’ he tells us, and with a stiff wave, walks out.

‘My goodness,’ I say, as soon as he’s gone. ‘Was he that awkward when he was with me?’

Molly nods, and chuckles. ‘Oh yeah. Well, maybe not quite that awkward, but pretty awkward.’

‘Oh dear,’ I say, feeling rather embarrassed. I can’t believe it was ever that awkward, and that I fixedly ignored it.

What was wrong with me? Was I even in love? Liking Jude feels so different to liking Dan. It’s like the difference between our dancing; with Jude it feels natural, and as if it’s all I ever wanted. With Dan, liking him was as un-chemistry filled as our dancing was. I can’t believe I ever wanted to be his girlfriend.

‘We’re going to have to tackle Mum,’ Molly says, unenthusiastically.

‘Oh yes,’ I say, equally as unhappily. ‘I’m not too keen on that.’

‘Can we go now?’ Molly asks. ‘I want to get it over and done with, I really do. You’ll come with me, won’t you?’

I nod, and so we set off, discussing which way is best to break it to her first. None of our options seem to say what we want to in enough words. Telling her is going to be extremely hard.

*
As we enter the house, our mum is stood in the kitchen, cooking up some dinner. I give Molly a sideways glance and she nods. So we go in.

‘Hello girls,’ Mum says, looking up from the pot of bubbling something that she’s stirring.

‘Hi,’ Molly replies. ‘Mum, can I talk to you about something?’

Mum puts down her spoon, and comes over to Molly’s side. ‘Of course you can! What is it? Are you feeling okay?’

Molly nods. ‘It’s just that… well, I’m not sure I want to carry on with dancing anymore.’

Oh snaps. On the way home, the one thing I pointed out to Molly was that it was probably better for her not to just come out with it straight off. Unfortunately, she seems to have completely disregarded my advice. 

Mum stiffens. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I don’t want to dance, I’m spending too much time in the studios, Dad was right,’ Molly continues, and I internally cringe. Another thing I told her not to do: mention Dad. And especially not say that Dad was right.

‘Did he put you up to this?!’ Mum demands, her eyes flashing. I realise now where I get my more feisty streak from.

‘No!’ Molly protests. ‘Of course he didn’t! No!’

‘Molly, are you sure? You know I’d never want your father to influence you in giving up something you love so much.’

‘No! That’s the thing! I’ve lost my love of it, I don’t love dancing anymore,’ she explains, almost shouting. Again, I told her to try and stay rational; that way Mum has a better chance of listening to her, and respecting what she says. Molly looks as if she’s about to burst into tears, which will just make Mum think she’s dealing with a child.

‘Molly, you love dancing though! I can’t believe this sudden change.’

‘I…’

‘I blame your father.’ Mum stalks to the telephone, picking it up savagely and punching the numbers in with unnecessary force. ‘I blame him entirely.’

‘No!’ I try to break in, but Mum waves me away with a hand. ‘Listen to me, please!’ I try, but she silences me with a severe look and speaks into the phone.

‘Is that you?’ she says, her tone dripping with disgust. ‘Listen, I’ve got Molly here, telling me she doesn’t want to do dance.’ Her tone wavers, as if she’s about to start screaming.

‘At last!’ I hear my dad’s muffled voice coming through the phone speaker, and his tone of voice seems to rile Mum even more than Molly‘s announcement did- I see her bristle with anger.

‘What do you mean, at last?! You put her up to this, didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU?’

It’s going to blow into a huge argument any second, I can just tell.

‘WHAT?! How dare you accuse me? It’s Molly’s own decision, I’m sure!’

Grabbing Molly by the forearm, I pull her up the stairs, wanting nothing more than to get away, away from all this. I stop by my room, gesturing for her to go in if she wants.

Molly shakes her head. ’No thanks. I… I just want to be alone right now, if that’s okay.’

So I sit in my room, the loud noise from downstairs echoing around the house. I thought maybe we’d escaped this. Is this really what our family has been reduced to?

I feel close to tears myself. What am I supposed to do? Did I worsen the situation by saying things? I wallow in self blame and sorrow for the next few minutes, before lying back on my bed and reaching for my phone, dialling the only number I know will provide some comfort from all this.

‘Foxy?’

‘Callahan.’

‘Are you alright?’ he asks, and I’m touched to hear some concern in his voice. I can picture exactly how he looks right now, eyes roving the room as he cradles the phone to one ear.

‘Uh. Well, my parents are having a full on argument downstairs, and I.. oh Jude, I don’t think I can cope with it anymore.’

‘Ky-’ he begins, but then pauses. ‘Do you want me to come over? I’m happy to come straight over, if you want me to.’

‘No, no. I don’t think my mum would be very impressed.’ I twiddle my fingers together. ‘But thank you for offering. I appreciate it.’

‘Don’t mention it.’ Jude pauses. ‘What was the argument about? Do you know?’ he asks.

‘Molly wants to stop dancing,’ I say. ‘And, well, Mum thinks that Dad persuaded her into it.’

‘Molly wants to stop?’ Jude repeats, sounding unsurprised.

‘Yes,’ I reply. ‘She says she’s lost her love of dancing, and she wants to have a life or something.’

‘Mm.’ Jude saying ‘mm’ down a phone sounds so very nice that I feel a few hairs at the back of my neck rise. ‘To be honest, she was never exactly enthusiastic about dance when we danced together for those months. That’s why I was so unbothered about turning up on time, or putting in any effort.’ He pauses. ‘You don’t know how pleased I was when Sarah suggested we should swap.’

‘Really? You didn’t seem it,’ I murmur.

‘I was. Once, when I’d turned up early, I watched you through the glass, the way you were so desperately trying to get Dan to respond to you, and how distraught you looked when he just acted as if you were a mannequin.’ He lets out a little chuckle. ‘I seem to remember you looked a bit like a lost puppy.’

‘Puppy?!’ I repeat, incredulously. ‘How very rude of you!’

Jude laughs. ‘My apologies, Foxy. I meant it in a cute way. I thought it was rather adorable.’

I chuckle at him, feeling rather flattered, and trying to ignore the way that my stomach lurched when he called me adorable.

‘But anyway, I saw you loved to dance just from that quick glimpse of you dancing,’ Jude continues. ‘And I wanted to let you dance, I wanted so badly just to stride through the door, take you in my arms and properly dance with you, really I did, Foxy.’

His tone is so genuine that I’m struck speechless. During the short silence, I’m suddenly aware that there is a lot of shouting still going on downstairs.

‘Is that your parents arguing?’ Jude asks gently, clearly able to hear it through the phone.

‘Yeah,’ I say, dejectedly. ‘Still.’

‘Kyra, I think you need to talk to them about this.’

‘Yeah?’

‘It’s the only way forward- they’re being really immature about this whole thing.’ He pauses, and I can faintly hear him rubbing his chin. ‘I don’t think they’ll sort it out until you have a chat with them and let them know what you’re thinking.’

‘Chat with them?’ I repeat. ‘You think so?’

‘For sure,’ Jude replies. ‘I really think it will help.’

Thinking about it, he may well be right. My parents appear to be stuck in limbo, floating between divorce and between just arguing and arguing for the rest of their lives.

Jude and I continue to discuss my options, and then he makes me laugh in traditional Jude fashion, which does a great deal to cheer me up. When I come off the phone, my smile is fixed on my face. I find myself grinning at myself in the mirror, beaming as I lay back on my bed. Jude seems to have a very good effect upon my smile and general cheerfulness.

But that revelation I had when I thought Molly wanted to swap partners has shown me something else which I feel for Jude.

I’ve fallen for him. I must have done, or what would all those feelings mean? What I said to Jessie yesterday didn’t really hit home; I didn’t really think I had fallen for him. But I know now that I have. Irrevocably and unimaginably so, I’ve fallen for Jude.