Page 61 of The Singles Club
“I’d like that.”
We faced the wall mirror, and I taught him the basic stance, and how to always have knees slightly bent, never entirely straight. “Hold up your leg and flop your foot like this, really let the ankle muscles go. This is one of the few times in dance where you shouldn’t be in complete control.”
His balance was off, and he nearly fell into me as he shook his foot while tensing his muscles too tightly. We laughed and kept going until he finally got the hang of it.
“Good,” I said. “Now we’re going to learn the most important steps in tap: the ball-heel and the shuffle. If you can master these steps, then you’ll be able to pick up the rest.”
He looked at me in disbelief. “I only have to learn two steps to become Fred Astaire. Somehow that doesn’t sound right.”
“Trust me,” I said. “They’re foundation steps. You won’t be able to do any of the more complicated ones without learning these first.”
He smiled, and that warmth came over me again.
“I trust you.” His voice was low and deep.
“The first step to master is ball-heel… sometimes it’s called the toe heel, step heel, tap heel, or toe flam.”
“You remember all this?”
“Tap was my favorite.”
“Why did you stop?”
That was one of my regrets in life, because I really hadn’t wanted to stop the lessons.
“My mother didn’t want to stay in the same house after the divorce, so we moved. My new friends thought tap was dorky.” I shrugged. “It’s stupid how we stop things we love just to fit in when we’re young.”
“Or the stupid things we end up doing just to fit in.”
“And what did you do that was so cringe-worthy to seem cool?”
“Keg stand. I threw up after. Not the most masculine image.”
I laughed. “I would’ve enjoyed seeing that.”
“Funny. Are you going to show me these steps or not?”
I taught him the ball-heel at its most basic level and got him comfortable enough that he could go a little faster. I showed him what it would look like once he got the hang of it, and his eyes widened.
“Wow, I’m not sure I’ll get that fast any time soon.”
“You won’t have to from what I saw in that dance routine, but youwillneed to get down the second most important step in tap—the shuffle.”
Teaching him this step took a lot longer than the ball-heel to get right. I knelt in front of him to guide how his knee should lift before the brush back. The muscles in his calves were thick and solid, and I swallowed as his thigh invaded my line of sight. I got back up and showed him in slow motion. We spent a good twenty minutes getting his brush forward and back strokes just right. “Keep your ankles relaxed and don’t swipe like a brushstroke but ping the floor on the brush back.”
He did it a few times, and I squealed. “You got it! Wanna try it a little faster now?”
Justin picked it up in no time after he mastered the movement. I don’t know why I felt so proud of him, but I did.
A woman knocked on our door and opened it. “Sorry to bother you, but the studio will be closing in ten minutes.”
Justin thanked her, and I grabbed my backpack off the floor.
“Do you need a ride home?” he asked.
“That would be nice, thank you.”
Instead of changing, I threw on a hoodie and slipped on my sneakers. Justin didn’t bother changing either, and we headed straight out to his car.
