Page 62 of Mistletoe, Mayhem & Mr. Grump
"How can someone have three left feet?" Holden asks.
"There's no music," I point out.
"Giuseppe, hum something romantic," Delia commands.
Giuseppe immediately starts humming what might be "My Heart Will Go On" or possibly his grocery list set to music. It's genuinely hard to tell.
"This is ridiculous," I mutter, but stand anyway.
Holden pulls me into position with surprising grace. "Just follow my lead."
"You can dance?" I ask, shocked.
"Boarding school requirement. That and Latin. Both equally useless until now," he says, guiding me into a simple box step.
"Your hands know exactly where to go," I observe, then immediately regret my phrasing.
"That sounded different in your head, didn't it?" he asks, grinning.
"Shut up and dance," I mutter, very aware that everyone is watching us.
But then something shifts. Giuseppe's humming becomes actual singing—the words are definitely not from any song I recognize—and Holden spins me gently. Suddenly we're not practicing anything. We're just dancing in a community center while our friends watch.
"You're good at this," I tell him softly.
"You're easy to dance with," he replies, pulling me closer.
"Nine points!" Delia announces. "Deduction for Wren stepping on Holden's foot."
"That was one time!" I protest.
"Twice," Holden corrects. "But who's counting?"
"Delia. Delia is literally counting," I remind him.
"Meeting adjourned!" Delia suddenly announces. "Practice your synchronized walking on the way home. I'll be watching from my window."
"That's not creepy at all," Holden mutters.
As we file out, Finn pulls me aside. "You know this is crazy, right? The training regimen, the binders, the maritime-themed contingency plans?"
"Welcome to my life," I say.
"No, I mean... you two don't need any of this," he says, gesturing at Holden, who's now trapped in a conversation with Giuseppe about sentient bread. "You look at each other like..."
"Like what?" I ask.
"Like Malcolm and his stupid yacht don't matter. Like the committee doesn't matter. Like you've already won something nobody else knows is a prize," he says simply.
My heart does that thing where it forgets its basic job description. I watch Holden show something with his hands while Giuseppe takes notes, probably about bread consciousness.
"We're just really good at pretending," I say weakly.
"Sure," Finn agrees. "And Giuseppe's food is totally safe to eat."
Walking home, Delia does indeed watch from her window. She's got binoculars and what might be a clipboard.
"We're failing the walking test," I inform Holden.
