I remember that incident because I happened to be at the studio, waiting for them to wrap up the class before we went out for dinner. Barry was a big guy, maybe six-two, with beefy arms and hands. He was rough with his partner, dragging her around, rather than letting her follow his lead. He also didn’t understand why she wasn’t picking up which direction he wanted her to go to.
Grandpa stepped in before Barry grew too frustrated and got nasty with his partner. “You have to signal by shifting your torso, and make sure your partner gets it. You can’t just drag her. Some of these moves, you could end up hurting her.”
“It isn’t like she fell,” Barry argued. “I’m just trying to lead. You know, take charge.”
“Your job as a male partner isn’t to take charge.” Grandpa held Grandma to demonstrate. “Lead her gently, pay attention to her response, support her, make her shine and ensure she feels pampered in your arms. Tango is a sensual dance. Think about how you’d treat a beautiful woman on a date.”
Barry didn’t like that. He wasn’t shy about expressing his feelings, either.
Grandpa had to ask him to leave and refund his money, although Barry shouted profanities and made a scene. He even promised to bad-mouth the studio on social media.
Thankfully, one of the female students in the class recorded the entire exchange and posted it. But my grandparents were worried anyway. It takes a decade of hard work to build up a business, but some jerk can tear it down overnight.
“So are you doing anything fun?” Grandma asks.
“Maybe I’ll go watch a movie with a friend later,” I say.
“Good for you. You’re only young for so long, so you should make it count.” And to her, that means playing too. She and Grandpa worry that I work too much.
“I know. Suyen invited me. It should be fun.” She’s great at picking out entertainingly mindless movies.
We chat a little longer, about their little getaway plan—they want to go to San Diego for their anniversary.
“We have to go now, but you have fun with that tango paper and movie,” Grandpa says.
“Love you.” Grandma blows me a kiss.
I smile and make a kissing motion at the screen. “Love you both back!”
After the call ends, I go back to my paper and read it over. There are a few typos, some awkward phrasing and a couple of paragraphs that could be more clearly set out. I correct everything and save the paper so that it’s ready to be turned in.
You were right about Grant. You got it done faster because you didn’t have that asshole weighing you down.
Yeah, that’s probably true. Grant would make a terrible tango partner—selfish, careless and self-absorbed. Probably worse than Barry.
I create a cover page for the paper. After placing the title and the course name, I put my name on the lower right-hand corner. Then I hesitate, thinking about the fifteen percent of the grade and the fact that Grant didn’t do crap. And he told me to keep his name out of it, like I wouldn’t dare.What a jerk.
I can hit save now and upload it to the class server. Or…
Fifteen percent of the grade. Or spiting Grant.
Nothing demonstrates the “no free lunch” concept from my Econ 301 class better than this. I purse my lips, then hit a few keys.
That done, I go out and look for Suyen, determined to have fun at the theater and not think about the paper or Grant.
Chapter Four
Grant
A few days after the confrontation at the polo field, I get a notification that my grade has been updated. Curious, I click on the alert to see what’s going on.
HIS 343 Culture and Music in History – Group project A+
A+?Didn’t Aspen turn the paper in with only her name on it?
We should have a chat about the paper, Grant. My office, when you get a chance?
No mention of Aspen anywhere.Hmm…Maybe the alert is wrong, and he gave me a big fat zero. He might be pissed off that I didn’t show him and his class enough respect. He seems like the type to care about that sort of stuff.
