It Takes Two To Tango

Chapter Twenty Nine

I wake up on the morning of the performance more excited than anything. I can’t wait to dance with Jude again, and this time, in our full outfits.

Getting up, I pack all the things I need into my bag, chuckling as I put in the strapless bra that I couldn’t do up last time. I’ve been practicing since (not that it would be unpleasant to have Jude do it up again….) and now I’m pretty sure that I can fasten it by myself.

My mum is already up and pottering around the house when I go downstairs.

‘How are you feeling?’ she asks, with a smile.

‘Not too nervous,’ I tell her, truthfully. ‘I’m going for optimism today, so I’m feeling pretty good about the whole thing.’

‘That’s great,’ she replies. ‘We’ll leave in about half an hour, okay? We’re picking your dad up on the way.’

The casual way in which she says this makes my smile widen a little. I didn’t realise that we were actually taking my dad with us. I eat my breakfast with much more enthusiasm now.

Molly emerges a bit later on, fully dressed and even more keen than I am. ‘I can’t wait to see you dancing, Ky,’ she tells me, as she pours some cereal into a bowl. ‘I just know you’re going to be amazing.’

As we set off, a while later, my thoughts wander back to that car ride to the last competition round, when Jude and I first started becoming proper friends, and talked so much that Jude took a detour to carry on the conversation. The sneaky devil.

I can’t help wishing that he was driving me again, but, as it’s a Saturday, I have my own little support team coming along to watch, and as Jude’s mum is going too, she’s driving him and Sarah up to the competition.

Jessie and the others all told me they were coming, and I think Jessie’s going to drive them up. I smile at that as we reach traffic. Jessie gets serious road rage sometimes, so this traffic may well irritate her. Hopefully Josh can calm her down by some means or other.

The car journey passes quickly, and soon we’re pulling up at the competition venue. Jude’s mum pulls up just behind us, and so, ushering my parents and Molly to go in and get seats, I wait for Jude so that we can register together.

‘Hola Foxy,’ he says, as he gets out of the car, his eyes lighting upon mine immediately. ‘Ready to win?’

I laugh, and as he gives me a hug, I melt into his arms a little, enjoying the comforting feel, his familiar smell. ‘Don’t be too optimistic, Callahan: we could come last, you know.’

‘Yeah, but we won’t,’ he announces. ‘We’ve practised so much that we can’t literally be any better. So I think we’ll at least come in the top three.’

I raise an eyebrow at him. ‘You’ve worked this out, hey?’

He releases me from the hug. ‘Yep. According to my calculations, we’re going to win,’ he teases me.

We walk into the entrance, and register ourselves as competitors. After being directed to a room we can change in, we make our way over, and as we go in, Jude gives me a cheeky little sideways look.

‘If you have any er, wardrobe malfunctions this time, just ask me, Foxy,’ he says, and I laugh, rather pleased that he’s remembered what happened last time.

‘I think I can manage it this time,’ I reply. ‘But thanks anyway.’

‘No probs,’ Jude answers. ‘I was extremely worried when I did that last time, you know? I thought you were going to turn round and slap me in the face or something.’

‘I wouldn’t have!’

‘Mmm, you’ve got a feisty streak in you, Foxy, my girl. It wouldn’t have surprised me.’

He gets out his outfit and starts changing, so I do the same, going into the corner to do it all. Pulling my jeans off, followed by my t-shirt, I feel suddenly very vulnerable. I have no doubts Jude is taking a good look… and I don’t want to disappoint him. Not that it matters, when we’re just friends. Of course.

I quickly remove my original bra, pulling the new one on, doing it up quickly. Thankfully it all goes smoothly, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

I pull the dress on, and turn my attention to my hair. I’m still wondering what to do with it.

Jude is already dressed, and has brushed his hair, so he’s done, and is now watching me try to plait my hair up after applying my lipstick and mascara. It’s not going well.

‘Leave it down,’ he suggests, coming over and standing close behind me in the mirror, and shaking the hair free of the rubbish plait, letting it tumble down my back. ‘I love your hair down.’

He pauses, and then takes the front section of my hair. ‘Could you plait that or something? Then it would be away from your face.’

‘I could definitely try,’ I say, biting my lip as I concentrate on tightly plaiting it up. I realise too late that I can’t find my hair band, but Jude immediately passes me one.

‘Where did you-’ I begin, but then I recognise the hair band, and see the faint mark around his wrist where he’s had it for so long.

I look up at him. ‘You kept it?’

He nods. ‘Yeah. I guess I did.’

I stare at it in my palm, wondering why he would want to keep something so trivial around his wrist.

‘I’ll be wanting it back after you’re finished with it,’ he tells me, with a cheeky expression.

I raise an eyebrow at him. ‘You’ll have to fight me for it.’

He raises both eyebrows back at me. ‘I look forward to it.’

A knock on the door makes us both jump, and Jude goes to open it. ‘Hello?’

Somebody hands flowers through the door: a little bunch of blue flowers that match our outfits.

‘I got told to bring these to Kyra Fox,’ the deliverer tell us. ‘The anonymous person who sends them tells me to say, good luck and you’ll be amazing.’ With a little bow, the person scampers away, and Jude wordlessly hands me the flowers.

I take them. ‘Thanks. Any ideas who sent them?’

He shakes his head. ‘Your mum?’

‘She didn’t see my dress, I don’t think. So how would she have matched the flowers to the colour?’ I look at Jude, suddenly suspicious that he might have been involved in this whole shebang.

‘What?’ he asks, innocently, his puppy dog eyes widening.

I remember that he got out of the car with just his bag, and that I’ve been with him ever since. There’s no way that he could have gotten flowers transported around. Shame. For a moment, I thought Jude might have been the first boy to ever send me flowers.

‘Nothing,’ I say, and, turning back to the mirror, finish applying the last of the makeup I have to put on.

When I’m done, Jude looks me up and down. ‘You look like a gorgeous goddess, Foxy, as ever.’

‘So do you,’ I tell him, blushing a little.

‘I look like a goddess?!’ he repeats. ‘Well, I don’t know what to say to that.’

I laugh. ‘No, you look like a gorgeous Greek god. Better?’

‘Mmm,’ he says. ‘I like the sound of that very much. Alliteration is always good when it comes to describing.’
We carry on laughing and talking for the next fifteen minutes, until suddenly, Jude glances at his watch. ‘Ooh, we’d better go. The competition starts in a few minutes.’

‘Okay,’ I say, biting my lips nervously. Impulsively, I stand on tippy toe, and kiss his cheek. ‘Good luck.’

He reaches a hand to his cheek, to the spot I just kissed, and smiles at me. ‘Good luck to you too, gorgeous.’

We head off to the main hall, where the actual thing is taking place, and make our way to the seats at the edge reserved for us. But then, as we go in, Jude and I stop in shock, unable to believe our eyes.

Taking up half of the seats, a crowd of students from our school sit in the hall, holding up banners and posters with the names ‘Jude and Kyra!’ on them. As the crowd spots us, they let out a loud cheer, and start applauding.

Thoroughly red cheeked with embarrassment, Jude and I sit in our seats. I spot Jessie waving a banner that says ‘Jude and Kyra to win!’ and she winks at me, mouthing ‘you look amazing!’ across the hall.

I can’t believe it. Jude and I look at each other, shaking our heads with astonishment at the sheer numbers of people who have come to watch us.

‘I didn’t think anyone would come,’ Jude admits. ‘Those flyers weren’t exactly very inspiring.’

‘I think they came to see if we’re any good,’ I say, nervously, and twiddle my fingers together. ‘They’re judging us!’

Jude pulls a face, and gestures to the real five judges who are regarding the going’s on with serious expressions. ‘Those are the judges we’ve got to worry about, Foxy. And anyway, I think our school friends are rather biased anyway- have you seen those posters?’

Before I can answer, a judge stands up and welcomes everyone to the proceedings. We get straight into things, with the first couple beginning their piece. It’s the winners from last time, who are still dressed in their tutu and leotard outfits. 

They’re as amazing as ever, but I can’t help but notice that their routine is very similar to the one they did before. Jude and I definitely haven’t gone down that route.

We’re performing almost exactly in the middle, so we settle down to watch the acts. Everyone seems to have worked extremely hard; there are so many brilliant routines that my optimism starts to fade a little. There’s no way we can outdo some of these, they’re just too good.

Jude catches me looking worried, and smiles encouragingly at me. ‘They’ve got nothing on us, Ky, don’t worry.’

‘Modest of you,’ I tease him, and he sticks his tongue out at me.

‘I’m telling the truth! You’re an amazing dancer, Foxy, you make me feel as if I’m dancing a whole lot better when I dance with you.’

‘I think the same,’ I reply. ‘Do you think we bring the best out of each other?’

He nods. ‘Oh, definitely, babe,’ he tells me, with a rather roguish look. ‘We definitely do.’
 
We’re getting closer and closer to our performance. Only two performances to go. Now just one. Now it’s us.

Getting up, Jude puts his arm around me and quickly squeezes me affectionately before we make our way onto the dance floor, our crowd of fans all cheering and applauding.

We get into position, the music is switched on. For a moment, there’s silence before it starts, and I can hear my heartbeat thudding.

Then it starts, and Jude’s arms are around me, picking me up and swirling me into the air. First lift, perfect.

The music builds up as we dance along together, Jude completely in control, moving my body to the music, then, as we break away, we both dance simultaneously together, our bodies mirroring each other.

Jude moves to my side, swooping his arms around me, and lifts me into the air, to a smattering of applause. Smoothly, he lets me fall delicately, catching me in his strong arms, my arms flung out, then flung around his neck, and I’m clinging on to him, clinging as if I never want to let go, because I don’t, I don’t ever want to let him go.

I don’t want to let him go, ever. And so I don’t. I make the most of being in his arms while I can, letting him lift me in the air, my feet moving to the rhythm of the music, focusing solely on him, on the way that he looks at me while we dance.

We don’t break eye contact as we carry on the dance, Jude working in the powerful lifts we choreographed. Then I turn, as planned, moving to run away, but he catches my body in his, smoothly moving me to him, one of his arms around my waist, holding me up, moving my arms gently into the classic ballroom position, as the music switches to just very light piano notes.

We dance, simple steps, but I’m leaning completely on Jude, and he is holding me in his arms, so gently. This move is so emotional, I can almost feel my eyes brimming with tears as my own emotions swirl around in my chest, almost overwhelming me. I can‘t breathe properly when I‘m with him, I can‘t...

Then, touching me as if I’m a fragile doll, he lifts me up, cradling me in his arms, his head bent gently over mine. The music stops, we stay as we are. I’m so drunk on him, so overwhelmed by the feelings he’s making me feel that I feel as if I might start swaying on my feet if he lets go of me.

Then the applause breaks out, and he lets me down from his arms. Then, we look round. We’re getting a standing ovation! A standing ovation from some of the judges, even! Jude and I look at each other delightedly, and he gathers me in his arms, kissing the top of my head as the applause continues. As we rehearsed, Jude does a little bow, and I do a small curtsey, and we make our way offstage.

That was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever danced like that and meant it so much, ever felt the emotion rushing through me, ever wanted just to stay in someone’s arms forever.

Jude is looking at me, his eyes shining. I know, somehow, that he feels exactly the same as I do, and as we sit back down, he reaches for my hand, and holds on to it firmly.

I’m glad he did that. I would have never plucked up the courage, but I wanted to still be connected to him, to still hold him in some way. Oh, I love him. I do, I really do. I am completely head over heels in love with Jude Callahan, and so I sit here, and hold his hand tightly as the next act goes on to perform.

I’m in love.