Grease Monkey Jive (8 page)

The hesitation was enough. Alex had seen this countless times. Unattached men around this age wandering in on a whim, thinking the studio was a new place to pick up desperate and lonely women. Thinking they’d be the heroes. Thinking that since they danced in clubs and bars this couldn’t possibly be that hard. They took up time, they wasted resources, they irritated her, and they outright disgusted Scott. They never even lasted a term, they were disruptive, often obnoxious and inappropriate, and usually asked for their money back. It was better to get rid of them before they signed up than to deal with them any further.

“I think you might be happier somewhere else,” she said.

“You won’t teach us?” asked Dan. He had coffee grinds in his voice now, clearly put out.

“I’m just saying, I don’t think you really want to be here and, frankly, we’d rather not waste our time,” she said, with a smile she hoped made her rejection appear more palatable. Dan was glaring at her now, his handsome face crinkled into a frown, his arms folded across his broad chest. He was obviously not a man who was used to being told no.

He said, “I want to be here. I want to learn and I promise you I’ll see out a term and do my best to be a decent student.”

Mitch said, “I want to be here. I’ll sign up for a term, no worries.”

The redhead said, “I think I’ll probably be pretty hopeless at this, but I want to give it a go.”

Alex sighed. She mirrored Dan’s stance, folding her arms and frowning.

“What experience do you have?”

“None, is that a problem?” said Dan and there was a snap to his voice that made Alex lift her chin. “We’re here to sign up for a beginner’s class.”

“What other physical activities do you do?” She watched for Dan’s frown to telegraph more aggressive behaviour. She could tell by the way Mitch and Fluke shifted that they were on alert for whatever happened next, but Dan just opened his arms out, quirked his palms up, and shrugged, flashing a smile that lit up his whole face and Alex had to concentrate to take in exactly what he said, because the way he said it arrested all her senses.

“Look, we’re good guys. We don’t have any particular qualification to be here. We didn’t know that mattered. We’re all fit, we surf, but hey, if you don’t want to teach us, that’s ok. We’ll find somewhere else.”

She thought that might be the end of it. That he might turn and go, his mates hot on his heels, but he just stood there and looked at her, that oh-so-sexy smile still curving on his full lips.

“You surf?” She was imaging Scott’s reaction to that. Surfers had been the bane of Scott’s life growing up, tough guys who travelled in packs and thought it was funny to beat up on the boy who was different.

“We surf. We work out. We’re fit enough, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m a mechanic, Mitch is builder, and Fluke can keep up,” Dan said. He was all amusement now, that hint of aggression gone.

Alex sighed. “What do you want out of coming here?” She was beginning to think she’d have to let them enrol and then work out a way to make sure they didn’t waste too much time or annoy Scott or the other students too much.

“We want to try something different. Is that so wrong?”

She dropped her arms from their defensive folded posture. “No, it’s not. The beginner’s class is Monday nights at 6pm and the new term starts next week. Dress in something loose and comfortable. You need shoes with leather soles. Bring a towel.” She wagged a finger at them. “And don’t be late.”

“Thank you, Alex,” said Dan. He put his hand out and she felt it, warm and calloused in her own. “We’ll be here.”

They made just as much noise leaving as they had arriving and Alex wondered if they truly would be back or whether the bravado would wear off in the street. She wondered what it was that made a man like Dan suddenly decide he wanted to learn ballroom dancing and convince some friends to come with him. She wondered why shaking his hand had been a tiny bit thrilling.

As she made her way back into the studio proper, Belinda caught her eye. “What did that lot want? Waste of space cowboys.”

“You know them?” said Alex, a sinking feeling striking her.

“Yeah. Mitch is my ex-boyfriend.”

“Did you know they were coming?”

“Absolutely not.” Belinda shook her head emphatically. “I can’t imagine for one minute why they’d be here, but it’s got nothing do with me. We broke up two months ago and we’ve not even spoken since.”

“Are they trouble?”

“Not trouble exactly. Fluke is a sweetheart, but Dan is a player and Mitch – I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.”

The sinking feeling became a deep hole. “I did give them a hard time. They might not come back.”

Belinda’s expression brightened. “We can only hope.”

“You were going to tell me about the three Neanderthals exactly when?”

Alex grimaced. She should’ve warned Scott, but she really thought the three new starters for the beginner’s ballroom class would have vaporised like vampires in sunlight by now. But there they were – Dan, Mitch, and the skinny redhead with the nickname, Flunk, Flung, no Fluke, that’s right.

Just looking at Dan, Alex was reminded of his attractions. He was wearing a pair of very faded blue jeans with rips at the knees and the pockets torn out of the backside and a much-washed soft cotton t-shirt that fell against the wall of his chest, doing nothing to disguise his sculptured muscle structure. His hair was wet and brushed back from his face. He looked tanned and relaxed, like he’d just come off the beach and tumbled into his old favourite clothes.

Neither Mitch or Fluke looked quite so at ease. Both of them were wearing loose cotton pants with drawstrings and surf brand t-shirts.

“I did try to get rid of them,” she said.

“Not hard enough, girlfriend.”

“They’re here now and they help even up our numbers, so you don’t have to work so hard being the extra partner.”

Scott grunted so Alex said, “Is that caveman talk for ‘I’ll behave’?”

“Tell me when I haven’t behaved like a perfect gentleman?”

Now it was Alex’s turn to go non-verbal. She snorted.

“Oh very classy, Alexandra,” Scott eye rolled. “Let’s get this over with. If we’re clever we might only have to suffer one week of them.” He tipped his head to study the three men. “At least two of them are pretty and one of them is very pretty –” he looked back to Alex, “– in a Neanderthal kind of way,” and Alex knew she was forgiven for not scaring them off.

Scott clapped his hands for attention and Alex said, “Hello everyone, I’m Alex, this is Scott, and we’ll be teaching your ballroom for beginner’s class for the next twelve weeks.”

She surveyed the motley assembly of people: three couples, two of them in her mother’s age group, and the third, snuggled together, were wedding waltz L-platers. Four single girls, clearly friends and all in their early twenties, and the three Neanderthals made up the rest. .

“The purpose of the beginner’s course is to introduce you to the basics of old-fashioned social dancing where you hold your partner in your arms, look into each other’s eyes, and dance together,” said Alex and Scott promptly took her in his arms and whirled her around to everyone’s amusement.

“It’s much more romantic than your average night club where half the time you can’t even see your partner,” she said and got a laugh and L-plate couple snuggled closer.

“We’ll teach you the seven most popular dances and, by the time our term is up, you’ll be able to get out on the floor and blitz it with the best of them,” said Scott, dipping Alex so low that her ponytail flicked the floor.

“You’ll learn the waltz, foxtrot, tango, rumba, cha cha, rock and roll, and samba,” he said, leading Alex through a small demonstration of each.

The married women looked starry-eyed, the married men worried, the pre-wedding couple were only looking at each other, and the four single girls were looking at Dan, Mitch, and Fluke. Mitch and Fluke were looking incredibly uncomfortable, Dan just looked amused. Alex knew they were murmuring together. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but their expressions said something like, ‘Holy shit, what’re we doing here?’ It made her smile and Scott said, “What?” as he jumped her to his hip as part of their rock and roll demonstration.

“Freaked out cavemen,” she whispered, before he spun her away, laughing.

The cavemen continued to look out of place and bemused as the class progressed. Watching as Scott ran through an outline of the term and what they’d do, Alex thought they’d likely be scared off by all the talk of rhythm and body posture, but when Scott paused for questions, Dan spoke up.

“It’s not so different from the basics of surfing.”

“Perhaps you can explain what you mean by that?” Scott replied, tempering his tone. Alex knew he was mentally eye rolling at the heathen notion of surfing and ballroom dancing having any relationship outside of being things you could do while awake.

“Can’t surf a wave without knowing its rhythm, where it’s going, how it’s going to break, how fast it’s moving,” said Dan. It was a good answer and Alex saw Scott’s eyebrow flex in surprise.

“Can’t surf a wave without having the right body position,” said Mitch, jumping into a surfer’s stance, one leg forward, one back, braced, arms wide. He laughed at himself and the class laughed with him.

“Can’t learn to surf without falling over a lot,” said Fluke with a shrug and the laughter was warmer and the dynamic of the group subtly changed.

Alex watched as the married men loosened up a little and the single girls melted a little. She couldn’t help but feel that maybe it hadn’t been such a terrible idea to let the boys enrol in the class after all. She looked at Scott and he gave a quick eyebrow push-up, right before he launched into a discussion of the basics.

“If you can walk and climb stairs, then you can learn to dance. It’s ninety percent technique – which means timing and balance, so yes the surfing might help,” he said and was interrupted by noisy high-fiving from the cavemen. He cleared his throat and continued, “It’s ten percent choreography. There are four critical components you must manage and what are they, Alex?”

“Cooperation, kindness, patience, and forgiveness,” she peeled off their mantra. “If you can work together with your partner, be kind to each other, be patient with each other, and forgive each other, then you can learn to dance.”

“You will also qualify for sainthood, but that’s another story entirely,” Scott cut in and his droll tone got a laugh.

“Lastly, this is about the music,” Alex continued. “The music tells you everything you need to know: pace, timing, rhythm, flow, and emotion.”

“No one is the boss. The music is the boss,” said Scott. “Just because she’s going backwards, gentleman,” he hesitated, “and surfers,” and got another laugh and Alex knew he’d had to stop himself saying ‘cavemen’, “does not make you the boss.”

“Ladies, just because you are a better dancer than he is does not make you the boss,” said Alex and one of the single women said, “Damn,” and one of the married ones said, “Are you sure about that?”

Alex smiled, this class already had a good vibe and that would make the teaching much easier. “Remember, cooperation, kindness, patience, and forgiveness.”

“And sainthood,” said Mitch.

Scott took over. “You only need to know how to do three things to start with. Step backwards, step forwards, and step sideways.”

“What about falling over?” said Fluke earnestly, from the back of the room. “Is there a special way to avoid that?”

Scott looked at Fluke down his nose. “There will be no falling over in this class,” and Fluke dropped his head and laughed.

“Moving on,” said Scott. “We’re going to learn the basic box step and the waltz.”

Alex moved through the room arranging the couples. She kept the married couples and the L-platers together and matched the single girls to the cavemen, partnering Dan with Jenni, Mitch with Katrina, and Fluke with Melissa. That left tiny pigtailed Carlie for Scott and freed her up to go from couple to couple fixing their body positions and their hands.

The next forty minutes were characterised by stumbling, bumping, backing into, treading on, and much laughter. Always the way with a first class, Alex enjoyed the mayhem as each of the couples attempted a simple three-step with the women having to rely on their partners to move them backwards without tipping them over or steering them into trouble.

“The waltz was once considered obscene,” said Alex from the centre of the floor, as the couples stumbled around her. “It was thought the intertwining of male and female limbs in public was a corruption.”

“Oh, so scandalous for the day,” Scott chimed in, surprising Carlie who promptly stepped forward rather than backwards and slammed into his chest, smacking the top of her head on his chin and making him bite his tongue.

“And yet the twist, in the swinging sixties, was the very first social dance where the couples didn’t touch. Go figure!” said Alex, stepping in to untangle the L-platers from Mitch and Katrina.

The only couple not to get into a tangle was Dan and Jenni. They were well matched. Dan was holding Jenni correctly and had worked out how to lead her easily without backing her into anyone else. They were enjoying themselves. Alex saw Jenni tossing her hair and laughing at whatever Dan was saying.

The most spectacular spill for the night belonged to Fluke, who managed to back Melissa into the stereo unit, bringing their music to a sudden stop.

Melissa went, “Ow!”, Fluke went, “Sorry!”, and the married couples crashed when the husbands lost their concentration. That was enough of a signal for Dan and Mitch to abandon any attempt to do anything else but laugh, and Scott to declare the lesson over for the night.

When he joined Alex at the stereo, he said, “Ok, they can stay. But they’re still cavemen.” She thought Scott had kept his voice low enough that the movement of the students collecting their bags and talking among themselves was enough of a cover. It wasn’t.

She heard the “Hey Scott,” and felt it like a shot of caffeine. She knew it was Dan before she looked up and saw the amused expression on his face. He stood towards the back of the hall, legs apart, arms folded, head tilted, and a ‘not letting you get away with that one’ expression in his eyes. Mitch and Fluke were slightly behind him but had turned to listen. The advanced Latin class were starting to assemble.