Page 154 of The Vacation Mix-Up
As I try to slip past Riles, she snags my hands as if we’re kids at a playground and coaxes me to join in, her chest springing about in her top. “Jump!”
I stare at her breasts.
“Come on.” She tugs my arms up and down. “It’s easy.”
Happy to stay where I am, because jiggling boobs, I begrudgingly give in and bounce with her until Michelle stops and stands like a demented penguin.
“Now, place your feet like mine,” she instructs. “One in front of the other, pointing in opposite directions. Right foot forward.”
I try to angle my feet like hers and nearly fall on my ass.
“Oh, this is going to be so much fun,” Riles says, steadying me by grabbing hold of my shirt, laughter bubbling out of her.
“For you or for me?” I grouch.
“Probably me.”
Wobbling, I try once more to stand heel-to-toe, one foot pointing left, the other right. “Is Irish dancing some form of ballet? Because this feels like ballerina shit to me.”
Riles giggles. “Not really.” She pauses and taps her lip. “Well, maybe a little. It’s less graceful, of course, and it involves light tapping, like tap dancing.”
“Tap dancing? Are you shitting me?”
“No.”
“So I’ve signed up for ballerina, tap dancing crap?”
She shrugs and lets out a “meh” sound.
“Now that we’re all heel-to-toe,” Michelle continues, “I’d like you to jump again and land in the same position.”
Riles springs up effortlessly, landing exactly as she started. I give it a go too, surprised when I manage it without fault.
“See?” She playfully nudges my ribs. “Don’t knock it ’til you try it.”
“Very good!” Michelle praises. “Keep going. Bounce to the beat.” She claps and counts in rhythm, enthusiastically encouraging us all to look like idiots.
I sneak another glance at Riles’s chest and smirk—at least something good is coming out of this.
“Now switch feet, everyone! Left in front, right behind. And repeat! One, two, three, four.”
Internally groaning, I do as I’m told. “Do they really dance like this in Ireland?”
Riles twists as she jumps, facing me when she lands. “Uh-huh.” She then jumps and twists back as if she’s a damn professional.
I hold still and spear her with my damnation. “Have you done this before?”
“Uh-huh.”
Heat rises to my cheeks, but I can’t help but be impressed. Just like the woman who signed me up for this bullshit, Riles has swindled me too.
Michelle gives us another round of applause, then rests her hands on her hips. “You’re all doing so well.” She positions her right foot in front of her left again. “This time, I want you to jump once, and on the second jump, hop on your left foot while lifting and bending your right leg. So, jump, hop.”
Practicing it slowly, I murmur, “Jump, hop.”
“On the third count, you’re going to jump, hop, back-front, back-front,” Michelle instructs.
Confused, I shake my head and grip my hair.
