Page 27 of See Her

“She is,” she answers, as she stands to gather up some belongings. “She’s in studio one,” she finishes, as she brushes past me with a smirk on her way to the door.

“Thank you!” I call after her, as the door closes behind her.I turn and head down the hallway that I assume leads to the dance rooms.The first one I come to on the left has the number “1” posted to the side of the door, which has a long, narrow window in it, giving me a look into the studio.

And there she is.

She’s wearing a grey t-shirt that hangs off one shoulder, a navy sports bra evident underneath, tiny black shorts, and black socks that I assume are for helping her to glide across the hardwood floor.And she’s moving in a way I’ve never seen her move before.Not only that, she’s taken on a completely different persona. She’s not doing any delicate, whimsical number either.Her moves are hardcore. The music that’s playing in the studio is high energy, a Pop Evil song, if I’m not mistaken.

All of a sudden, time slows down and all other noises fade away. It’s like I’m watching her move through water, with the sound of the music barely audible.Her hair is up, but some strands have come loose, some flowing around her face, making her look wistful; others sticking to the back of her neck from sweat, making her look badass.She’s hitting her moves hard, with total force and precision in time with the beat of the music.

I realize now that my girl’s a force to be reckoned with.She’s sweet and playful, but when she’s upset, she’s got a dynamic as fuck way of dealing with it.She wants to be alone,maybe to protect the person she’s upset with – in this case, me – or maybe to protect herself by not putting her feelings on display for anyone.

As I take in the fixed expression of frustration and determination on her face, I’m in awe of her and scared of her at the same time. And suddenly, a song is writing itself in my head. Lyrics are materializing out of nowhere.I continue to watch her intricate yet vast movements. With the sweep of an arm or sweeping kick of her leg, she slices through the air, as if the music is coming directly from her.

I knew she could dance, just by the way she talks about it. But seeing it with my own eyes is like a punch to the chest. Now she’s on her knees, throwing her head and arms all the way back so that she almost makes contact with the floor, and throwing her pelvis out.

Sweet Jesus, I’m going to die.

And then she’s up again, doing a few more graceful turns, followed by another kick here and there, and some arm movements that have some serious punch behind them.I thought I was done for the moment I met this beauty, but now, I’m hopelessly in…

I love her.

The music switches over to an old Def Leppard ballad and her movements slow down and soften some, but her face is still in a hard expression with a small hint of sadness.With the music change I snap back to the present, and suddenly feel as though I’m invading her privacy. Not to mention I’m a total hypocrite right now. I didn’t invite her to my shows, but I’ve invited myself to watch her dancing. Of course, that wasn’t in the plan.I came here to talk to her, but still… it’s not fair.

And the lyrics that have been forming in my head since I first started watching her are swirling in my mind, almost mocking me.It’s like they’re threatening to leave if I don’t get them written down.I turn and head down the hall and walk out the door,heading for my truck. After I let myself in, I reach over and grab my notebook off the passenger seat, scribbling down several lines that were inspired by the vision I just saw dancing in that studio.

When I’m satisfied that I got it all down, I close the notebook and toss it back on the seat. I stay there a moment, scrubbing my hand over my face.I’m torn between doing several things: going back in there to confess that I saw her and trying to work things out, texting her to ask her to please call me, or going home and rubbing one off to thoughts of what I just saw her doing in there.

Oh, Jack, you bastard.

I try to shake that last thought out of my mind.

Before I can make up my mind, I see the studio door open and Mayzie walk out, her bag slung over her shoulder as she turns to lock the place up.She turns and starts walking up the street to her car, and once again, I stop thinking and just act.

Mayzie

I lookat the clock when there’s a break between songs and realize I’ve been at it for almost an hour and a half.I’m going to hurt tomorrow, but it was worth it.I throw my arms out and shout, “Thank you! I’ll be here all week!” to no one, and shut down the music app on my phone.I grab my water bottle and take a long drink before setting it down to pull my yoga pants on and slip on my sneakers. I grab my bag, turn out the lights, and leave the room, heading down the hall and out the door. After locking up, I make it a few steps before I hear a familiar voice.

“Mayzie!”

What the fuck?I turn back to see Jack getting out of his truck and jogging towards me.What on earth is he doing here? He’s in his bar uniform, with his shirt open over a white tank. The sight of him reminds me of my hurt feelings, which stokes the fire deep in my belly that I had just gotten down to a dull ember. But a tiny part of me, deep inside, is happy to see him, and that pisses me off. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to work,” I ask, feeling my forehead scrunch.

“I got someone to cover me at the bar. I was going nuts knowing things aren’t okay with you and me, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I just wanted to see if I could try to make it right…”Oh my gosh is he rambling? This is going to be good.“I’m sorry to show up like this…” he tapers off as he stares down at me like he’s begging me to understand, but can’t find the words.

“How did you know to come here?” is my brilliant retort.

“I took a chance,” he admits.

I let out a long, hard sigh. “I really don’t know what to say right now, Jack.”

“Maybe you can just listen then?” The look on his face is pleading.

I let out another breath. “Okay,” I say after a few beats.

He steels himself with a deep breath before he starts in. “These last couple of weeks, you’ve become so important to me. So much so that I feel like you’re a part of me now.And then there’s my music, which has been a part of me for so long… I’ve never had something come along in my life that was as important as that – until you.”

Never have I had anyone say anything like that to me in my life. For a second, I close my eyes and bask in those words, letting them make my insides glow before the nagging shred of confusion shouts from the back corner of my mind. It still doesn’t explain his actions.

“Then why not invite me into that part of you?” I ask softly.

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