by Nicole Bea
“‘Don’t Know Why’ by Norah Jones. I want to try something.”
Lux extends his hand and I take it, much like I did the night of class when we were forced into showing our dance skills together thanks to Jenn. He leads me to the middle of the apartment, pulling me close into him with gentle ease, and I fall into his chest, our bodies so close that I wonder how we’re going to move. The dance is slow, and Lux picks the beat up easily, transferring the feeling to me through his touch as we shuffle along the floor.
“This isn’t swing, is it?” I ask, my voice quiet under Norah’s singing.
Lux shakes his head, resting it on top of mine. “This is blues.”
I want to ask him what blues dancing is, exactly, but I also want to feel everything about this moment. I want to feel the way his hips sway against mine, the touch of his hands, the scent of his skin—everything. I want to be a part of this song and drown in it.
The song only lasts for a few minutes, but it repeats and we don’t break apart. Rather, we seem to draw closer and closer until our steps barely make us move. We barely cross the endless sea of the laminate floor, and I’m about to melt in ecstasy with a heart that’s filled with mimosas and pancakes.
Slowly, but surely, Lux and I stop moving as Norah sings behind us and our lips meet without any other words being uttered. The kiss is quiet but passionate, gentle but deliberate. I don’t know how long we kiss like that for, a minute, two, ten—but then Lux takes a step into me and I take a step back, over and over until my legs hit the seat of the couch. We don’t part. Instead, I pull him down onto me, settling myself into the cushions with Lux on top of me and the song echoing in my ears.
There’s a short musical interlude, and Lux separates from my mouth and buries himself in my neck, whispering into my ear with a touch of a growl that tells me everything I could ever want to know. “I think I’m falling for you, Chelsea.”
My heart hammers hard, and I don’t hesitate to respond, or curse, or grab at his shirt and pull it over his head. “I’m falling for you too.”
We are together there in the bloom and glimmer of the early afternoon, eight floors up from the rest of the world, and we kiss for so long that I’m certain he’s going to be on my mind forever. The embraces grow deeper, the rest of the room slipping away, and Lux and I stay there on the couch amid sunlight and shadow dancing to music of our own.
“We’re never going to get any dancing done for the exhibition,” I joke later, wrapped in a throw blanket that was previously on the back of Lux’s couch. He’s propped up next to me and we’re squeezed on the cushions like we were squished on my tiny bed, thighs touching and fingers interlinked.
“Maybe not. Maybe we’ll just have to try extra hard, or we’ll have to get all of this out of the way before we even try to practice.” Lux reaches up to the side table, picking up his nearly empty champagne flute and drinking the final mouthful of his mimosa. “You know, this is a pretty good warm-up.”
I laugh and poke at his chest. “Maybe we should try a few steps then? Get dressed and see how things go? I’m terrified of getting on stage as it is, let alone getting on stage without a plan.”
“In a minute. I just want to be here with you for a little while longer.”
His answer is more than acceptable, because, in truth, I don’t really want to get up. I want to stay snuggled here on this couch with Lux for as long as possible, with daylight sprinkling on his face and into my eyes.
Eventually, though, we do get up. He puts on the Ella Fitzgerald song that I like, and I finish off my mimosa in one gulp, letting myself be led into his arms to triple-step the afternoon away. Before I know it, it’s pushing dinnertime, and I’m suddenly exhausted. I don’t know if it’s the dancing or the feelings I’ve been overwhelmed with today, but my eyes grow heavy and I accidentally stomp on Lux’s toes.
“You need a break for today?” he asks, peering down at me as I melt against his chest. There’s an amused tone in his voice, and he plunks me down on the couch and turns the music off. “I think we’re done. It’s been longer than I thought. I should have been more aware of what was going on. Shirking on my teacher duties by accident, I suppose.”
“You’re a good teacher.”
He runs his hand through his hair, making little pieces stick up on end while he’s sitting in the desk chair. “I have a good student.”
I lean back against the pillows, closing my eyes for what feels like just a second. Dance moves play in my head, spinning around the dark floor of Lux’s apartment mixed with passionate kisses and the sensation of his fingers brushing over my skin.
“Chelsea, let me drive you back to campus, okay?” Lux’s voice sounds over top of my thoughts. “You look too tired to walk back.”
“What about the mimosas? You had more than one.”
“That was a couple of hours ago. I nursed maybe two, I’m fine.”
“Okay.” I drag the word out, my brain almost entirely asleep.
“Okay, let’s get your shoes and sweater on.”
It takes a moment, but I drag myself from the comfort of the couch, pulling myself across the apartment with my eyes half-shut. I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired in my life, and I’m probably crashing because of the champagne or the wine or whatever it was in the mimosas. This week has been so much, between Lux and school and Mom, and I think I desperately need a shower and some extra sleep to be ready for class in the morning. At least my assignments and readings are done for the week so I don’t have to worry about those, but I can’t help but wonder if I’m going to be good enough or focused enough this year to be able to keep up a double major.
The drive back to campus in Lux’s car barely takes any time at all, but even still I rest my head against the window and watch the trees and houses roll by as we cruise down the street toward Bedford University. When he pulls to a stop outside of the back of the building, I offer the strongest smile I can muster without it looking fake. The air from outside has woken me up a little, but I know it won’t last for very long.
“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” he says, looking me over. “You get some sleep.”
“Yeah. I’ll talk to you tonight or something. I’ll text you?”
Lux smirks a little, then chuckles. “You’re going to be out like a light until tomorrow, I think. But sure, if you wake up, send me a text.”
I unbuckle the seatbelt and grab my things before I turn toward Lux. “Thanks for the pancakes. And the lesson.”
“Thanks for the- everything else.”
A little snort escapes me that turns into a laugh as I push the passenger’s side door open. I go to leave but Lux’s hand closes on my arm and I shift back around. “Something wrong?”
“I meant what I said, by the way. When I told you that I’m falling for you. I didn’t just say that for the sake of the moment.”
“I meant it, too.”
He tugs me gently over the center console and gives me a kiss before letting me go. I’m dizzy with his intoxication and his love as I shut the car door, so much so that I practically trip over the cobblestone path as I make my way back to Harris Hall. Today, like all the days I’ve spent with Lux, have been everything. They’ve shaped me into someone new. They’ve reinvented me. And as I think about this while riding the elevator up to 2C, I also consider how in some ways, maybe Lux helped me be more of myself.
But in every way, Lux has made me happy. And I think happiness is greater than reinvention.
Chapter 10
The next two weeks are a blur of dance lessons with Lux and FRE100 coursework. The former needs a certain level of focus and drowning of feelings, while the latter requires staying up much too late researching verb conjugations in my bescherelle. As the exhibition draws nearer, the more nervous I get about the footwork Lux is trying to teach me, and the more nervous I am, the more often I step on his toes or swing the wrong way or find it difficult to feel where his body is leading me to next. He tells me to close my eyes
and just let myself move, but that only works approximately half of the time. The other half, I end up in a frustrated heap on the couch.
Jenn doesn’t make Lux and me dance together at any of the subsequent meetings, though I notice that unlike the first few classes, there’s no demonstration given for the last couple minutes of class. She doesn’t seem to want to touch Lux or even refer to their previous dance history, which makes me wonder what they’re preparing for the performance—if anything. All I know is that Lux has been scoping out North Auditorium for lighting and stage equipment and seating arrangements with whoever on campus takes care of those things. Jenn’s been dealing with their contacts at Passage College. The week before the exhibition, Lux and Jenn are handing out tickets for everyone in the class to sell.
Because I don’t know anyone on campus and haven’t really made any friends yet, I sell a single ticket to Mom and she comes to pick it up when she’s in town for a visit with her friend Daphne the night before the exhibition. I’m in the middle of texting Lux—when am I not in the middle of talking with him?—when I get a call from Mom that she’s down in the parking lot and ready to take me to Mo’s Grill on Granville Street for dinner. Saying a quick goodbye to Lux with a promise I’ll message him later, I pick up my purse that I rarely carry, stuff it with my key and wallet, and head down to meet Mom in her brand-new SUV.
The deep blue Ford Escape sits mostly alone in the back lot behind Harris Hall, lights from the building flickering off the closed windows.
“Hi!” I say as I open the passenger’s side door, the dome light coming on and illuminating the inside of the vehicle.
“Hi, honey. How was your week?”
“So much French homework. But good, otherwise. I think I might actually be almost ready for my test next week.”
Mom pulls out of the parking lot carefully, and we cruise down the main road toward Granville which is only a few blocks away. She has a smile on her face the whole time, and we chatter on our drive about my classes and what’s happened throughout the week since I haven’t spoken to her in a few days. As we’re parallel parking in front of Mo’s she questions me about Lux, and I’m glad she does it in the dark instead of in the middle of the dimly lit restaurant.
“How is Lux, anyway? He seems like such a nice boy.” Mom cuts the steering wheel and pulls into a space between two smaller cars with practiced ease that I have yet to master with my own limited driving.
“He’s good. I think he’s a little stressed over the exhibition and potentially losing the club, but maybe after tomorrow night everything will be okay, and we’ll have some more people signing up to learn how to dance.”
“I’m so proud of you for signing up for an extra-curricular. I think keeping busy is really good for you and your anxiety.” Mom smiles at me, unlocking the car doors so we can get out and walk along the lamp-lit sidewalk to Mo’s.
I hop out of the car, nearly forgetting my purse since I carry it around so rarely, and shut the car door as Mom locks it back up. We meet on the edge of the road, then walk in tandem toward the bright sign of the restaurant. “I’m really glad you were able to come, even if it’s going to be a bit weird dancing with my-… with Lux in front of you.” I stumble over the word ‘boyfriend’ because I’m not really sure if that’s what Lux is or not. We’ve never come outright and said it, but I think it’s a pretty safe assumption.
“I’m just thrilled you’re happy, Chelsea.”
Mom holds the door open for me and I step into the large restaurant, the smell of grilling meat and fresh bread overtaking my senses. We’re guided to a seat by the windows overlooking the road, and are able to see the sky fading into a dull, dark blue as the night rolls in. Taking a moment to get comfortable and look over the menu, Mom doesn’t say anything until after we’ve ordered: chicken parmigiana for her, tortellini with fresh garlic bread for me. I guess the pasta’s kind of grown on me, though I expect the stuff from Mo’s will at least be cooked properly.
“So, there’s something else I wanted to talk about with you tonight. Something I thought I should mention.”
I crinkle my eyebrows together. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh, everything’s fine. It’s just, it’s about the accident.”
I think about Huxley and the cars all smashed up and for a second, I’m not able to focus on what Mom’s saying until she’s already said it. I hear the name ‘Brandon’ and I immediately crash back down to earth. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”
“I said that red car that sped away after the accident was apparently Brandon’s new-to-him car.”
The crease in my brow doesn’t go away with the news, it only deepens. “Brandon drove away from the accident? Someone could have been killed and he just left?”
“He was probably scared he would get in trouble for racing Huxley down the highway. Which, I mean, he should. The two of them should get tickets.”
The server chooses exactly this moment to drop off our sodas, and Mom takes a quick gulp of her root beer. I just stare at mine, not believing what Mom’s said. My ex-boyfriend drove away from the scene of an accident without so much as a second thought. Presumably.
“How did you find out it was Brandon?” I ask as Mom pushes her drink toward the middle of the table. There’s a pause after my question, only filled with the clanging of dishes and the chatter of other patrons as the music overhead changes to a new song.
“He came over to the house the other day to apologize. I guess he finally felt like he was safe enough to say something, but I really think he was looking for you.”
“Looking for me?”
“I reminded him that you had gotten into Bedford and had moved away. He seemed upset so I let him know I’d be seeing you perform tomorrow at North Auditorium and asked if he had any messages he wanted me to pass along.”
I don’t care about that. I don’t care about any of it because of course, Brandon would forget that I had gotten into university and would be leaving Patrick’s Cove behind for something more. But I do care about his actions and the way they make me feel, like there’s a rock in my stomach and it’s big enough to press on my lungs, making it nearly impossible to breathe. On top of that, my leg is shaking underneath the table, up and down and up and down so fast that it feels like it could vibrate through the floor.
“Mom, I’m so sorry that Brandon’s such a jerk.”
“I wish he would have been a bit more conscientious about the accident when it happened but…” She trails off as another server approaches with our food. “Oh, Chelsea, this looks delicious.”
I can tell by the way that Mom’s changed the subject that she doesn’t want to talk about the accident any more, that she wants to enjoy the company and the food and talk to me about school and probably Lux. We stay at Mo’s for the better part of two hours, drinking our root beers and chatting, catching up on what’s been going on at the house and with her friend Sheila and the general gossip of Patrick’s Cove. I let her know I’m doing well in French, but that I have some concerns about two majors, because I already feel like I’m losing sight of the shore and it’s only the first semester.
“It’s all okay, Chelsea. You’ll be fine,” she assures me, tucking her credit card back in her purse as we stand to leave. “I believe you can do this if you set your mind to it, and I’m sure Lux believes in you too.”
Mom drops me off back at Bedford a few minutes later, giving me a kiss on the cheek as she heads back to Daphne’s for the night. Apparently, the two of them are going to some sort of craft show in the afternoon tomorrow, but she’ll be back and ready for the exhibition, which starts at seven.
“I’ll be in the front row,” she says as I stand outside of the passenger’s side of the SUV, letting in the chilled September air. “I’ll wave to you and throw roses.”
The statement makes me let out a little laugh. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mom.”
“Goodnight, Chelsea.”
When I get back up to my room, I
text with Lux a little but soon my exhaustion from the week and from my constant state of anxiety takes over and I find myself curled up in my Paris blanket against the edge of the window, staring out into the grove. He slows in responding as it gets later, his messages coming in dribs and drabs as I imagine him falling asleep as well. I pass out with no memory of it, and when I wake up on Friday morning I’m ready for pancakes and glad that my classes start later on this particular day of the week.
However, the whole day I’m unable to focus, spending my time in between classes up in my room practicing the dance steps that Lux has run me through probably a thousand times. I know them in my head, but sometimes my feet and my mind don’t agree with one another, and the second time I trip over my toes and kick my desk chair I think about messaging him and calling it quits.
I don’t though, because not performing in the exhibition would let him down and might even make him think I don’t care about the future of the club, when I really, truly do.
Before I know it, six o’clock arrives, and I’m just finishing tying my curled hair up in a ponytail when there’s a knock at my door. It’s unusual for someone to come to my room, especially seeing as I don’t know anyone besides Lux and Jenn, but I open the door anyway, snapping the hair elastic into place before I do.
Standing outside of the door is Brandon, holding a dozen pink roses. My heart falls into my toes, while my stomach rises to my throat and I feel like I’m about to be sick.
“Hey, Bug.” He calls me by my old nickname and it makes me want to vomit all over his shoes.
“Don’t call me that. What are you doing here?” I don’t bother giving him a greeting because what I really want to know is how he made it up the elevator without a key, but then again, someone probably took pity on him with his big eyes and big football muscles and let him ride up with them.
“Your mom told me that you’d be here tonight, getting ready for your performance. I thought I’d come see what you’ve been up to.”
