“No, Luke. I’m helping you. Now pay attention.”
I gave her a sideways glance at the same time some ballroom type of music started playing through the speakers mounted in the corners of the studio. Denis walked to the front of the room and smiled, nodding at Syd.
“Syd, tells me you are a fighter, no?”
Frowning, I held his stare with my arms folded across my chest.
“Yes, he is. One of the best,” Syd answered on my behalf.
“Excellent. Here at my studio, we teach everything from ballet to the lindy hop to the waltz. I am one half of the Waltz Parisian Championship in 2010, 2012 and 2013. We have—”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You dance. I get it,” I interrupted. “Can we go to a real gym now?” I turned, asking Syd. But before she could answer, I started for the door.
She caught up with me, moving in front of me right before I hit the door. “No. You’re staying here and we’re dancing. Let’s go, Denis,” she said, pushing me back to the center of the room. I let her, but my patience ran thin as the hair on Denis’ head.
“Very well. We’ll begin with the Waltz. It is the classiest of the dances, in my humblest of opinions, and perfect for what you’re going for, Syd.” He nodded at Syd as he approached us.
“You will be the lead,” he told me.
I kept my gaze pointed straight ahead, frowning at myself in the mirror. Syd moved directly in front of me.
“Don’t touch me. You tell me where to put my arms and I’ll move ‘em,” I said to Denis when he tried to position my arms around Syd.
Denis nodded and directed me how to hold Syd. She placed her hand in mine and the other on my shoulder and at Denis’ instruction we began to move. More like Syd moved and I stood there still as a fucking statue.
“This doesn’t work if you don’t take the lead.”
“It’s not going to work then because fuck that.”
Syd sighed. “I know this is unconventional.”
“You think?”
“But it’s for your training. Believe me.”
“I don’t believe anyone.”
She turned her head toward the ceiling before, glancing back at me. “Dancing is like fighting in a lot of ways. Especially, ballroom dancing, where you’re dancing with a partner. There’s a give and take that needs to happen in a fight, the use of body structure to leverage your partner or, in your case, opponent’s weight. Dancing is going to teach you how to move against your opponent when they don’t want to be moved. All the types of mechanics you need to improve on your locks, arm bar, and, once you get them to the mat, the ground and pound.”
I gave her a side-eye.
“Go with the flow.”
I shook my head but didn’t say shit. As soon as this lesson or whatever it was, ended, I was out of there and never looking back. I remained silent as Denis continued with his instructions, having me spin Syd around the room. More times than I could count, we had to stop after I stepped on her toes, trying to follow the rhythm Denis clapped out in time with the music.
Even worse, I didn’t know what had my head spinning more, the dancing or the scent of Syd’s perfume. It wasn’t overbearing, but with each twirl and movement I got a whiff of it. Every time Denis said something that made her laugh, she’d toss her head back, filling my nose with more of those floral notes.
“Waste of my damn time,” I griped, pushing the door open and heading for my car, an hour after I arrived.
“You could’ve at least held the door open for me,” Syd yelled, coming up behind me.
“I lost an hour of training over this shit,” I said, turning to face her.
“That was training.”
“Yeah, if I want to try out for the Nutcracker.”
She frowned. “That’s not the same dance from the Nutcracker.”
