“Five years of ballroom dancing with Mrs. Hanover.” He put his arms around an invisible partner and swayed briefly.
“Oh.” Natalya laughed at her erroneous assumption that he’d been talking about ballet. Obviously, he wasn’t going to be ballet dancing at his grandparents’ anniversary party. Still, teenage ballroom dancers weren’t exactly a dime a dozen. “I didn’t think anyone our age knew how to dance.” At that same cousin’s wedding, Natalya had noticed that everyone her parents’ age or older seemed to know how to do real dance steps, but all the couples younger than her parents just kind of put their arms around each other and swayed whenever there was a slow song. “It looks hard.”
“Nah, it’s not that hard.” Colin slid off the counter where he’d been sitting and headed out of the kitchen.
Natalya didn’t know if she was supposed to follow or if he was just going to the bathroom or something, so she stayed put. But a minute later, he called, “Come on,” so she pushed her chair back and followed the trail of lights Colin had turned on, ending up in the room with the enormous chandelier and the huge white sofas. He was by the window, facing a wall of built-in bookcases. Suddenly a burst of classical music, heavy on the strings, filled the room. He turned to face her.
“Strauss,” he called over the music.
She cupped her hand over her ear. “What?”
Colin crossed the room to where she was standing, then pulled her into the middle of the floor, where there was a large rug between the two enormous sofas.
The second his hand touched hers, she didn’t feel like she was spending the afternoon with a friend who just happened to be a guy anymore.
“Strauss,” he repeated. “The Blue Danube. Cheesy, but for our purposes, effective. Now—”
“I’m not really too coordinated.” If she’d been videotaping their time together to send to Jane as proof of how casual it was for her to be hanging with Colin, she would definitely have turned the camera off now.
He ignored her protest. “We’re going to do a basic waltz, which is just a simple box step, okay?” He looked at her, but it definitely was not a lovey-dovey look. It was the kind of look you might give someone you were tutoring right after you identified the basic concept you were going to be working on together. When you cross peas with different traits, you begin to see how dominant and recessive genes operate.
Okay. So. All that worrying about Alison had been for nothing. She’d been right the other day—Colin thought of her as…well, maybe not as not the weird ugly girl he played chess with, but definitely as a…buddy. A guy. Or not a guy, exactly, but someone he could teach how to dance without feeling weird or guilty or even remotely aware that standing with your arms around a girl was any different from facing her across a chessboard.
Really, when you thought about it, this was a fabulous opportunity. When else would she have the chance to learn how to waltz? Colin was about to teach her a life skill, one she would use at social gatherings for years to come.
So if this was such a great opportunity, why was she feeling like any second she might start bawling?
“Okay, ready?” Again that friendly, open look.
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
“Great. All you have to remember is that waltzing is onetwo-three, one-two-three.” He moved as he counted, sliding alone across the floor. Even his socks, she noticed, were elegant. Pale gray, they looked thick and soft, nothing like the stained tube socks she had on under her boots. “So…” He came back to stand beside Natalya, hesitated for a second, then took a step. “You’re going to take your right foot. No, wait.” He turned to face her, moved his foot forward and back, then jumped to stand next to her again. “Okay, got it. You’re going to take your left foot and move it back.” He demonstrated. “And then you’re going to take your right foot and move it back. And then you take your left foot and step like this. So that’s one-two-three, one-two-three.” It sounded complicated. She looked down at his feet and awkwardly imitated the steps he was taking.
“Awesome!” Colin encouraged her. “You’re doing great. Now…” He turned and faced her, slipping his arm around her waist and holding his other hand in the air.
At his touch, Natalya stumbled.
“Don’t let me throw you off,” he assured her. “I’m just going to…” He took her left hand and placed it on his shoulder, then took her right hand and held it firmly in his. The fabric of his T-shirt was soft, but the muscles beneath it weren’t. She could smell something slightly spicy, but she didn’t know what it was. Soap? Shampoo? Laundry detergent? Whatever it was, it smelled great. At the thought that he didn’t care what she smelled like, that he only liked her as a friend, she felt as though her heart were literally breaking.
“Okay. Now, you want to hold your arm a little stiff, but not too stiff; got it?”
Natalya nodded, even though his instructions were practically inaudible, drowned out by the music and the pounding of her own sadness in her ears. She couldn’t believe she was standing there, Colin’s arms around her, his hand holding her hand, but none of it meaning anything.
Jane was right: she should never have come.
“And I’ll count us in, okay?”
“Okay,” she managed to whisper, thinking, This is torture.
“And one-two-three. One-two-three.” She risked a glance at his face. His chin was just at the level of her forehead. She saw the smooth ruddy skin.
Colin took a step. For a second she had no idea what he was doing; it was like she’d completely forgotten they were supposed to be dancing. And then the clear pulse of the music took over, and she automatically took a step back. A beat later, she stepped forward. Back. Forward. Back. Forward. The steps were simple, no sudden moves or unexpected twists or turns. Each time she moved, Colin moved, too; each time he moved, so did she.
Natalya had never liked sports. Soccer balls and Frisbees always seemed to come out of nowhere and slam her in the head. Running laps felt pointless and exhausting. She hated climbing ropes and having to duck over and under things and through obstacle courses.
But dancing. Dancing was the physical manifestation of a chess game. It felt orderly and rhythmic. It made sense. It was beautiful. Despite her sadness, she laughed.
If Colin thought it was weird that Natalya was laughing as she danced, he didn’t say anything. He just kept steering her around the room. When the movement came to an end, they stayed where they’d stopped. They didn’t start dancing when the music began again, but neither of them made a move to sit down.
They didn’t speak. Natalya kept her eyes on the opposite wall. Her heart was racing, whether from exertion or exhilaration, she didn’t know.
“So, that’s about it,” Colin said finally. “You can waltz to pretty much any song. It’s like the lingua franca of dancing.”
She risked raising her eyes and found him looking down at her, his face just inches from hers.
And then, before she could tell herself not to do it, Natalya moved her head and lightly touched her lips to his.
She had kissed a boy only once before. It was at Lily Martin’s twelfth birthday party, when they’d played spin the bottle, and Danny McGill had mashed his mouth against hers while everyone in the group cheered and whistled, and in her head Natalya had counted to five, which was how long she’d had to endure Danny’s kiss for it to count.
But she wasn’t counting to five now. She felt Colin’s lips, soft against her own, and then his hand pressing on her back. The kiss became more intense, and she slipped her hand around his shoulder to the back of his neck. There was nothing about the way he pulled her toward him that said he thought of her as merely a chess partner.
Maybe he had a girlfriend. Maybe until now he’d only thought of Natalya as a friend. But at this moment, with his lips tracing a line down her neck and his hands buried in her hair, there was only one way Colin was thinking of her.
And it wasn’t as a friend.
His lips travel
ed back up to hers, and he wrapped his arms around her waist.
Natalya wanted their kiss to last forever.
JANE LOVED CASABLANCA. Nana had first taken her to see it when she was ten, and after that they’d gone to see the movie whenever it was playing anywhere in New York on the big screen. Standing on line at the Paris theater, Jane felt the familiar thrill she always felt before going to see the most romantic, heartbreaking film ever made.
“I can’t believe you’ve never seen this before. How have I not taken you? I blame myself,” said Jane, putting her arm around Victoria. Just as she did so, Victoria reached into her bag for her buzzing phone. Jane’s phone began to buzz also.
“Nat,” said Victoria, looking at hers.
“Don’t tell me,” said Jane, taking hers out of her bag. “She’s not coming.”
“She’s not coming,” echoed Victoria. Then she read aloud. “‘i m so sorry. can’t make movie. don’t be mad. i will tell u everything when i come 2nite. r we still sleeping @ jane’s? i will meet u there. xoxo n.’”
“Okay, what is going on?!” Jane was about to respond to Natalya’s text with exactly that question when she felt a hand on her back and heard Simon say her name. She hugged him, then introduced him to Victoria. Seeing Victoria register how handsome Simon looked in his skinny jeans and linen button-down shirt, Jane couldn’t help feeling a small flutter of pride. Not that she’d done anything to make Simon so great looking. It was just kind of cool to have a boyfriend beautiful enough to make people do a double take.
“My friends Roman and Jenny are here,” said Simon. “I just ran into them, and I invited them to sit with us. I hope that’s cool.”
“Totally,” said Jane, thinking how awesome it was to have a boyfriend who not only wanted to see Casablanca but who had friends who wanted to see Casablanca. A second later, a tall boy with spiky black hair and an extremely thin, pale girl in a fabulous vintage T-shirt featuring Madonna in her Like a Virgin period appeared next to them. Simon introduced everyone, and a second later the line started moving forward.
“How do you guys know each other?” asked Jane.
“Summer program at Playwrights Horizons,” said Roman, who gave out a superfriendly vibe. He glanced at Simon and added, “Um, Todd’s coming, too. We told him we’d save him a seat.”
Simon looked startled, and he took a second to respond. “Oh,” he said casually.
“Who’s Todd?” asked Jane.
At the same time, Victoria said to her, “Why can’t Nat come? Do you think something’s going on?”
“Um, yeah,” answered Jane, without hesitating. They entered the theater, and Jane was about to ask Simon again who Todd was, but then Victoria blurted out, “Oh, hey, there’s Lily!” She pointed across the theater and waved, but Lily didn’t see her.
Jane turned back to Simon, but Simon was talking quietly with Roman and Jenny. A moment later, they waved good-bye to Victoria and Jane. “Nice meeting you,” said Roman, planting a brief kiss on Jane’s and then Victoria’s cheek before heading back up the aisle they’d all just walked down together.
“Wait, aren’t they going to sit with us?” asked Jane.
“What?” asked Simon, scanning the enormous room. “Oh, they said there probably won’t be six seats together.”
Jane thought that was a good point. The theater was getting surprisingly crowded for a movie that had been out for over sixty years.
She thought she saw three seats together, but just as she began to move toward them, someone snagged one. Damn.
Jane liked to be close to the screen but not too close, and she realized she had no idea where Simon liked to sit. She turned to him, but he was looking over his shoulder toward the back of the theater.
Uh-oh. Jane’s mother’s favorite place to see a movie was the very last row. “You don’t like to sit all the way in the back, do you?” she asked Simon.
“What?” he asked, whipping his head around to look at her. His face was flushed, and she reached over and unwrapped his scarf from around his neck.
“I said—”
“There,” said Victoria, pointing to the short row of seats along the wall nearest them.
“Grab them!” Jane ordered, and a minute later she and Victoria were sliding into seats that were a little too far to the side to be perfect, but were exactly the right distance from the screen to be acceptable.
Jane turned to ask Simon if they were sitting too close, but he wasn’t next to her. She looked up and saw him, lingering at the end of the row. “We forgot popcorn,” he said.
“Not to mention peanut M&M’s,” Jane replied.
“I brought cookies,” Victoria remembered, holding up her overnight bag with the box of butterscotch cookies in it.
“Yum,” said Simon. “Still, there’s no substitute for peanut M&M’s and popcorn. I’ll get them.”
“You sure you don’t mind?” asked Jane. She half rose, but he gestured for her to sit down.
“I’ll be right back,” he said.
Simon was gone forever. As the first preview began, she finally texted him. where r u? if the line is super long, we can just eat v’s cookies. She kept her phone on her lap, but there was no answer, and it wasn’t until the screen filled with the Warner Brothers logo that he slid into the seat next to her.
“Where were you?” she whispered.
“Sorry.” He was panting slightly, like he’d just run down the aisle to make it in time for the first scene. As he went to hand the popcorn over to Jane, he spilled some, almost as if his hands were shaking.
“Was it a really long line?” Jane whispered.
“Um…yeah, pretty long.”
“Sorry you had to wait. Thanks.” She took his hand and intertwined their fingers. Normally when they watched a movie at home, Simon put his arm around her or gave her a back rub, but tonight he was completely wrapped up in the movie. Jane had always thought she was a huge Casablanca fan, but Simon was even more obsessed with the movie than she was. In fact, he was so into what was happening on the screen that he practically seemed to have forgotten she was sitting there.
Jane was glad to see that a love of Casablanca was just one more thing she and Simon had in common. She settled back happily into her seat, feeling glad to be one half of a couple that was clearly destined for a long and beautiful relationship.
VICTORIA HAD HAD to pee for the last twenty minutes of the movie, but she knew Jane would murder her if she got up and left. Whenever they watched movies at home, Jane insisted on pausing if someone had to go to the bathroom. “You can’t miss part of a movie! It has to exist as a whole. Would you skip part of a book you were reading?” Victoria loved Jane more than anything, but her policy made seeing movies together a little stressful.
Victoria stepped over to the one unoccupied sink. She could not see how Jane could love Casablanca as much as she did. The movie was so depressing. Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman loved each other. They were the love of each other’s lives. And they didn’t end up together. It was the most colossal cheat in the history of movies. Jane was always complaining that they didn’t make movies like Casablanca anymore, and Victoria was glad. The same thing had happened at the end of Gone With the Wind. Victoria had been sure Rhett Butler was going to walk back into the house, sweep Scarlett O’Hara off her feet, and say he’d just been kidding about all that I don’t give a damn stuff. But then the credits had started rolling.
She was so deep in her thoughts, she didn’t see the familiar face appear next to hers in the mirror. It wasn’t until Lily said, “Hey!” that she registered her.
“Hey,” said Victoria quickly. She wanted to say something interesting about the movie, something that would strike Lily as intelligent and sophisticated. She imagined Lily telling Jack about running into Victoria, Lily saying, Your girlfriend is so smart and cool. Instead, she just said, “Hi.”
They looked at each other in the mirror rather than turning to face one another.
“Jack�
�s not here, is he?” asked Lily.
Victoria shook her head, then added, “No,” as if Lily wouldn’t know what a head shake meant. She wished she didn’t feel so nervous around Lily all the time.
“Right, he’s at Rajiv’s.” Lily laughed. “I can’t exactly see him here.” She reached for a paper towel.
Victoria felt a sudden rush of happiness. She and Lily were having a moment. She was standing with Jack’s best friend, and they were laughing…well, not at him, exactly, but at their shared knowledge of him. She giggled with relief. “I know. Can you imagine?”
Lily tossed the paper towel out. Smiling at Victoria—the actual Victoria, not her reflection—she added casually, “Yeah, he was just saying you guys have pretty much zero in common.” She laughed, then gave a little shrug. “Well, see you.” And then she was gone.
Victoria didn’t say good-bye. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t move from the sink, and her eyes were filled with the sight of her own face in the mirror as she processed the words Lily had just spoken.
He was just saying you guys have pretty much zero in common.
Jack had said that?! He had said that? And he’d said it not to her but to Lily. Victoria felt a light film of sweat break out on her forehead. How could he have said something like that to Lily?
Victoria pictured the scene. Lily, Rajiv, and Jack grabbing a snack after school on their way to listen to the recording session. Rajiv saying, Is Victoria coming? And Jack answering, Nah. It turns out we have zero in common. I think we’re probably going to break up soon. She saw Rajiv and Lily exchanging a look, silently coming to agreement. Rajiv patting Jack on the back. Sorry, man. Lily and I knew you were a bad couple, but we didn’t want to say anything. Lily coming up on Jack’s other side. Rajiv nodding understandingly. Totally, man.
Her face came back into focus as Victoria stared at her reflection. How could Jack do that to her? How could he talk about her behind her back, share his private thoughts about their relationship like it was just so much…gossip?
The Darlings in Love Page 16
