Page 30 of One Short Summer

My ears pick up the faint sound of music when Kiara pulls me down a long hallway. We stop in front of the glass door of a large studio space, and my eyes are eager to peek inside.

Even though the studio is unfamiliar to me, and the lights are dimmed, I immediately spot Monica.

Holy crap.

My eyes track her in her black leggings and bright pink top, making it easy to watch her as she dances around the room.

“I have some errands to run, but I’ll be back in a little bit. If you guys leave before I’m back, just make sure you pull the front door all the way closed behind you. It’s locked from the inside.”

Kiara’s words barely register as she pokes me in the arm, but I nod anyway.

She chuckles quietly and mutters something that sounds like, “Hopeless,” as she leaves. At least, I think that’s what it was.

I move closer to the glass, as if that would make any difference. My eyes are focused on Monica and every single one of her movements. A tornado could come through, and I wouldn’t move an inch. Wouldn’t miss a second of this.

Monica’s strawberry-blonde hair is pulled together in a high ponytail, her tight clothes perfectly displaying her athletic body.

Even though I’ve seen videos of her dancing, nothing can do this justice.

Absolutely nothing.

Not only is she graceful and beautiful, but her movements are fluid and smooth, almost like she’s one with the music. The mirrors on both sides of the room only amplify that.

The song is slow and sad, the melancholy of it perfectly portrayed by Monica. Since I’ve watched several of her videos I found online, I know this is a contemporary number.

Watching her takes over my senses, and I don’t realize I opened the door to slip into the room until the door closes behind me with a softthud.

I’m utterly incapable of staying away, needing to witness this from up closer.

Luckily, Monica is too entranced by the music and her dancing to realize she’s not alone anymore.

Even though I’m only a few feet away from her, I can barely make out her footsteps as they hit the floor. It’s almost like she’s floating, a beautiful bird soaring into the sky, spreading its majestic wings, showing off its beauty to whoever’s lucky enough to pay attention.

The song reaches its peak, speeding up before slowly coming to an end.

Monica collapses onto the floor the second it’s done, facing away from me. When her shoulders start to shake, a knot forms in my stomach. Just when I get ready to rush to her, loud laughter echoes through the room.

I shouldn’t be surprised. This is crazy Monica we’re talking about, after all.

TheoldMonica.

A force to be reckoned with and enjoying life.

Absolutelystunning,through and through.

I watch her silently as she lies down on her back. As much as I want to snatch her up and spin her around the room in pure euphoria, I also don’t want to intrude on this moment. I can’t even begin to imagine what this mustmeanto her, how this mustfeelto her.

Her chest rises up and down like a well-working machine when she turns her head to the side. Her gaze sways around the room until it lands on me.

“Gabe?” The surprise is written across her whole face as she slowly opens her mouth, only to close it again before saying my name, this time shouting it. “Gabe!”

In one swift move, she hops up and starts running toward me. A few seconds later, I realize that even though she’s getting closer, she’s not slowing down one bit. She’s only a few feet away now, and I brace myself for the approaching impact.

Before I know what’s going on, she’s airborne, leaping right at me.

Leaping right into my arms.

I have no choice but to catch her, stumbling back a few feet before finding my balance again—no thanks to this little spider monkey.

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