Their Days of Nights

35 : Dance

Kimberly

I recognize it the very second I hear the first line. It doesn't have an instrumental intro, so it starts with words.

I close my eyes. "I like this song," I whisper.

When I open them again, Benjie is smiling at me. "Then let's dance," he says.

"Ha-ha. I don't dance."

He smiles even wider. "That's not how I remember," he says, still with that smile.

He's dressed according to what's written in the invitations. He's in a formal sky-blue, buttoned, long-sleeved shirt and black pants. He fixed his hair, so they stay put, even when we're outside a while ago and a late summer breeze whiffed past us. Had we known we're going to the same event this weekend...well, it doesn't matter now.

"Seriously," I say. "I don't dance."

He glances past me to the dancefloor area. "Come on, you said you like this song." He's smiling again. "And it's waltz-y." He squares his shoulders, hides his left hand to his back, and offers me his right. "I'll lead," he says with his chin up.

I look behind first and see at least two pairs of people slow dancing. I face him again and roll my eyes. "Fine," I sigh and place my left hand on his open palm.

The song goes into the chorus part as we pass by the round tables on our way to the front of the hall.

We reach the dancefloor. He lets go of my hand. We stand statuesque for a second. Then I inch a little closer and put my right hand on his left shoulder. He grabs my other one and holds my back.

The chorus ends.

I nod at him.

A new stanza begins. And we start waltzing.

It's a song from the first Twilight movie. The one that played during the gazebo scene at the ending. People may say anything they want about the movies or the story, but they have to agree that the saga also came up with a really good selection of songs for the soundtrack.

I keep looking down on my feet as Benjie and I move in-sync to the rhythm. One, two, three, four.

My dress is floor-length, so I'm slightly anxious, for either the tip of my strappy heeled shoes or his leather ones can accidentally step on it, and I'd lose balance. But we're doing fine.

Then I remember what our PE teacher said during the first session when she taught us how to dance. Look at your partner, not your shoes. And I look up.

Benjie smirks at me. "See, you're not so bad," he says.

"Shut up."

One, two, three, four...

It's the chorus once again.

His face turns serious. "I was going to ask you to dance that night at our Seniors Ball," he says.

"I would have danced with you then, and you know that."

"But now that we're here, I'm sort of glad we didn't get to."

"Why so?"

"Because this is better." Again, with that smirk.

"Oh-kay," I scoff. I also know better than to ask, but I do it anyway. "How is this better?"

He leans his face closer to mine. I also feel his hand going lower to the small of my back. He moves his head to the side of my face; his skin subtly encounters mine. For a split-second, I might have felt the electricity running through my veins.