Chapters: Stories on Sean & Kaycee

Perspectives Part 2

Miya Lew - 2017

Oh, he's angry again.

Every time Sean comes home from dance class slamming the front door, I immediately know he's upset. And it almost always has something to do with Gabe de Guzman.

“What happened this time?” I ask as he enters the kitchen and pours himself a glass of water.

“Nothing.” He lamely mumbles.

I keep staring at him, and even though he isn't looking at me, I know he knows I'm still staring. Eventually he chugs down his water, slams the glass on the counter, and sighs deeply.

“He just…” Sean starts to say, struggling with his words. His temper. “He just keeps overshadowing her! I don't get it. He gets all spazzy and weird when he dances. Almost like he's trying to compete with her. She’s his partner. Why can't he just dance like a normal person?”

He huffs angrily, then stomps up to his room.

Another time, he comes home, furious again, and throws his bag down on the kitchen table.

“What did Gabe do?” I ask, not even bothering to look up from the book I was reading.

“He freaking blocked her freestyle! He's always hogging the floor.” He yells, yanking the fridge door open.

Then the time after that, Sean plops into a chair at the dining table, and furiously munches on an apple. I don't even have to ask anymore. He just starts ranting like a crazy person.

“Why the hell does he try to race her? It's a workshop, not a contest. They were completely out of sync. It looked awful!” Done with his apple, he threw the core into the trash bin. He starts to walk out of the room, only to pop back in a few seconds later.

“And you know, Mom, the worst part is that she is actually amazing. Like, if he just stops hogging all the attention, people would see that she is crazy good.” He stabs his finger in the air. “But nooooo, he needs to one-up her every time.”

With one more huff, he exits the room for good.

I'm starting to get the feeling that this has less to do with Gabe de Guzman, and everything to do with Kaycee Rice.

So one day, after hearing the front door slam, I cut to the chase.

“Do you think you could do better than Gabe?”

“Yes!” Sean yells out without thinking. Realizing what he just said, he slaps a hand over his mouth.

“Reeeeally?" I'm surprised by his arrogance. "I'm sure Tricia knew what she was doing when she put those two together.”

“Even Tricia Miranda can be wrong.” He mumbles under his breath, reaching for something in the fridge. He pulls out some leftover chicken, brings it to the counter, and takes out a knife to slice it.

“Oh yeah?” I ask. “So what if you were her partner?”

His hand stills, knife midway through a slice. I begin to think he won't answer, but he does. “Don't be crazy, Ma.” He sighs.

“Come on, humor me - what if? You're always talking about the things Gabe's doing wrong. So what would you do differently?”

Sean puts down the knife then faces me, crossing his arms over his chest. His gaze is far away. He doesn't say anything for a long time.

“She deserves to be seen,” He starts, voice barely above a whisper. “So I'd let her stand in front. I'd let her take every freestyle because I know she actually wants to improve on it. I'd let her set the pace, then level my energy with hers. I'd watch her dance and interact with her, so that we’d actually be a team, and not just two people dancing at the same time.”