Page 44 of Two-Step
I look back at Iris. “You sure? We could call it quits for today.”
She gets to her feet, shaking her head. “No quitting. I don’t even know the word.”
Her determination is something I haven’t seen before. My gut twists a little more. She’s not drunk. Or high. And I’m beginning to accept that she wasn’t last night either.
Which means I’m a Grade A Dick.
I clear my throat, not liking the taste this realization leaves in my mouth. “Okay. Back in position.”
While I unlock my phone, Ramon and Iris face each other, and one of his hands goes to her hip while the other clasps her hand. “You sure you’re okay, boss?”
Iris rolls her eyes. “I’m fine. And don’t call me that.”
He scowls down at her. “I only call youbosswhen I need to remind you to let me do my job,” he mutters low, but I’m close enough to hear every word. “You gotta tell me when you don’t eat.”
I keep my eyes on my phone screen and scroll through the playlist I’ve made for the class, but I’d be lying if I said I’m actually reading the song titles.
“I wasn’t hungry,” Iris whispers.
“Liar,” Ramon hisses. “You’re always hungry.”
“Can we start dancing now?”
I look up from my phone to see Iris’s exasperated gaze on me. I tap my screen at random, and the parlor fills with Bonsoir Catin’s“J'aimerais Sentir Comme Ca Chez Moi.”I almost never play the duet in classes because the lyrics are so raw, but when I made the playlist for today, I didn’t think the California transplants would notice.
Besides, its cadence is great for beginners.
“One-two-ready-go,” I count, and Ramon starts, but just like before, Iris goes the wrong way.
“Dammit,” she curses, looking rattled. “Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.”
I stop the music. “It’s no problem. You’ll get it,” I encourage and then reset the song.
“One-two-ready-and—”
She starts on the right foot this time, and she and Ramon make it nearly to the end of the first verse before moving out of sync.
He shakes his head, looking down. “Your steps are still too big.”
Ramon is right. Her steps are too big. “Think of it as a shuffle-step,” I try to explain. “Your feet barely need to leave the ground.”
We start over, and Iris’s steps are smaller. A lot smaller.
“Too small,” Ramon drones.
“You said go smaller. I went smaller,” she fires at him.
“Too small,” he repeats. “Look. Just do what I’m doing.” He carries on in time with the music. Iris stares at their feet.
“Iamdoing what you’re doing.”
“No, you’re not.”
He’s right. She’s not, but I don’t think saying so will help.
“You’re concentrating too hard, Iris,” Ramon tries. “Just go with the music.”
“Grrrr.Ican’t,”she nearly shouts. “I don’tgowith music.”
