Page 124 of Old Acquaintances

Tucker had changed into basketball shorts and a sweatshirt. He held up bags of candy and snacks.

“Did you raid the mini-bar?”

“The room’s on Christian’s card.”

I let him inside and grabbed the remote control. I started scrolling through the cable, and Tucker laid on the bed, his eyes flickering to my legs.

“Center Stage!” I put the remote down and sat down beside him.

He opened a bag of bag of chips. “This movie is oddly sexual.”

“When have you seen this?”

“What are you talking about? You made us watch it like three times.” He frowned and gestured to the movie. “Why can’t they dance at the other place? Are the ballet people afraid they’regoing to learn how to hip thrust and they’re going to lose them all to hip hop?”

“That’s not hip hop,” I pointed out. “What they’re doing right now is called jazz.”

“It’s calledgetting it on.” With a mouthful, he said, “I remember what comes next.”

I understood, “Oh, so that’s why you guys agreed to watch this.”

“We were like ten, this was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.”

I laughed and laid back on the couch pillows. He handed me a bag of M&M’s. Our legs were stretched out parallel with one another.

Tucker added, “At least the friend gets the girl. Vindication.”

“Vindication for what?”

He chided, “The friend is the nice guy. The friend should always win.”

“She only ends up with the friend because this Cooper guy is an asshole. If Cooper had been a nice guy, then the friend wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

“Why not? He’s hot. He can dance. He’s got stuff going for him.”

“Um, did you watch this movie forhim?” I look back at the TV. “Charlie never made a move.”

He sat up. “What? I’m pretty sure he makes a move.”

“I don’t think so. But, then again, you’re clearly obsessed with this movie, so I might not know what I’m talking about. You seem to be the expert here.”

Tucker slid off the bed and walked to my side. “I watched this movie so I could understand your wholeballet girlworld.” He held his hand out.

I took it, getting to my feet, wondering, “What are you doing?”

“This was the move.”

He pulled me to him, and I squealed. He took my right hand and squeezed my opposite hip.

“Tucker!” I awed as he started to move our feet in a box step. In the small hotel room, between the bed and the closed window, he spun me with perfect hand placement, just like in ballet partnering. He twirled me and I exclaimed, “How do you know how to dance like this?”

“Gavin’s wedding.”

“Why didn’t we dance like this tonight?”

“Because -” He looked down at my close face - “I don’t want to make you look bad with my superior dance moves.”

I grimaced. “You’ve got me there.”

---