Because the Night

let me demonstrate

Lily woke up and stared at the roughly textured sea foam green ceiling with confusion. This was not her ceiling. Her ceiling was white. Her bed was creaky.

For a second, you see, she felt like her body had been transplanted to some alien planet. Then the world shifted back into place and she remembered she was at the mountain house. She heard the sink running. Her mom was getting ready. She began the internal countdown.

Brace yourself, Lily, she's about to wake you up.

Just like that, in three two one, her mom came in with a relentlessly cheery singsong voice. "Wake up and face the day, Lilibeth." She got all close to Lily so she could feel her toothpaste.

Lily squirmed and buried her face into the bed's ridiculous layers. So many layers. "My name isn't Lilibeth!"

"You could change it if you want to," she said. "I wouldn't mind. And now's the time to do it, you know. Reset!"

Lily was tired of people telling her what now was. Now was her life. Now was the future. What did she want to do now? Simple: sleep. But her mom looked so eager, like she was finally let out from her cage, and so Lily pulled herself out of bed.

In a few fluid movements, she pulled her brown hair back into a high ponytail, put on yoga pants and a shirt, and flip flops. She brushed her teeth. She was ready. She started getting ready like boys did once she stopped being interested in boys.

Her mom looked her up and down. "You need to wear a dress to tango class."

Lily shrugged. "They'll take me like this."

There wasn't much use arguing with Lily once she got an idea that she liked. That's how she ended up going to school in that cold town, anyway. She liked the idea of New England more than she liked the reality of it — snow, chapped lips, the only thing to warm you up was whisky and Colin who never quite ran hot enough for her.

So she was definitely going to tango wearing slightly chic gym clothes. Her mom wore a red dress that she sometimes pulled out on dates. "You look good, ma," she said, because if she didn't, she'd hear about it all day.

After breakfast, that's when Lily began to get nervous. She felt herself on a conveyer belt toward him. That he had marked her, somehow, and now her life was inevitably leading toward whatever plans his broad shoulders and smile had for her. Maybe he'd spin her until she collapsed.

Or, even scarier, maybe he wouldn't remember her.

By the time she and her mom got to the lake view room where classes were held, almost everyone else in Tango Week was already lined up and in position. The men were in one row, the women in another.

Diego was at the end of the line, back turned and fiddling with an old stereo. The boxy purple kind from the 90s. Lily had gotten one for Christmas as a kid.

He was shouting above the strange, truncated beat about technical difficulties. Finally the music evened out. "I haven't been able to find this song anywhere but a casette. And I love this song," he said. "I love it."

He was talking about love and his eyes were scanning the room and then he landed on her, and Lily chose to believe it was a coincidence but maybe it wasn't, maybe it wasn't.

"Ah! They're here. Welcome. You must be—"

"Late, I know," mom said. "But we're here now. Don't blame me." She subtly pointed toward Lily. Lily could've grabbed her finger and bit it. There was an animal prowling in her now and she didn't know where it had come from, or what of her was going to be left when it was over.

He laughed, walking toward them. "Well, Miss, we do have an extra male partner here for you," he said. At the top of the line, a tall middle-aged man stepped slightly forward. He looked like he had just got off the set for an LL Bean shoot. Just Mom's type.

And then Diego said, "As for you. How do you feel about demonstrating?"

But there was no way lily could say yes or no. She didn't feel anything about anything. She just felt a lot. Couldn't distinguish what surge was caused by what force in her life. Only that there were many surges, tropical storm Lily.

He took her hand and led her toward the front of the room. Behind them was the lake, sparkling. He put on the music and started speaking.

"Tango has moves. There are moves. But do not make the beginner's error of thinking moves are all there is. Let me demonstrate."

He taught them all the moves. One two, one two three. "First, Lily will do it."

Lily would do what? "Do the move, Lily. That's what you're here for."

So she did.

"See, she followed the steps. But now watch this."

Then, as if he weren't afraid of bragging, not even a little, he did the same five steps with flourish and fire. He even finished by throwing his hands in the air.

"You need to dance the tango as if you were in love with your partner. Not just in love. In love, and he's leaving tomorrow to go fight in a war, or his family won't let you marry him, and you have one final dance. The tango must be laced with forbidden passion. Or else," he said," it will look like that." He gestured at Lily.

This got a big laugh. Diego then slid his arms between her arms into the position. She was expecting him to apologize for humiliating her. He didn't. In fact it seems like he thought he was right.

When his head was near hers, he whispered one thing to her. "You might want to wear something else tomorrow. I want to see you twirl."

If Lily had been a weaker person, her bones would have slackened right then. At best she would've collapsed in his arms. At worst she would've fallen on the floor, and he would've had to mop her up in the day's final humiliation.

But she was strong, luckily, stronger than she knew. She felt something like fire coming from his fingertips. They made her body feel like something she was excited to live in. It had been a long time since she felt like she could twirl and keep twirling.

When he dropped her at the end of the hour class, she was cold. Colder than she had been before she had ever heard the name Diego. Diego what? Diego who?

Aside from that one order, he barely spoke to her. He moved her around the dance floor like it was its own language. What he said with that language was fire. It flutter so fast she could only catch a flame-1 the thrust of his arm, a kick — after it had already past. She knew a fire like this could scald her and it could keep her warm. When it was dark outside, it would be the only thing she could see.