Authors: Steven Slavick
“Is fairness a new concept for you?” Roland asked. “Wouldn’t you grant Nicholas the
chance to view his own chart
before putting it on public display?”
“Nina is not
a casual
acquaintance, so d
on’t treat her like one.
Besides, you
remember their pact, don’t you?
They may view each other’s charts but not their own.
”
Roland opened his mouth to respond, but he either agreed with
Mei Lee
’s assertion or didn’t know how to counter it, because he simply glared at
her.
But Mei Lee
didn’t back down
at all. If anything, she met the
severity
of his scowl
and increased it.
Nick pic
ked up on the obvious romantic undertones
between
them. And he admitted to a level of
curiosity
about their past
, if only because he enjoyed seeing Roland so rattled. It
contrasted
with the always-in-
control demeanor he employed whenever they were alone. But
Mei Lee
’s statement that Ni
na deserved the right to see Nick’s
chart
ba
ffled him. He barely knew Nina, s
o
what did Mei Lee mean about a pact they had
agreed upon
? Perhaps he only wished th
at he’
d known
Nina
. That made more sense than having drafted a template for his life on earth.
He glanced at Nina, who
also looked confused. She got
to her feet and stood
beside
Mei Lee
in a show of support.
Nick felt bad
for Roland
, so he made his way over to him
and decided to relieve the tension
.
“Everybody ready for a picnic? Roland, did you remember to bring the bologna sandwiches?”
Neither Roland nor
Mei Lee
acknowledged his inquiry
, too wrapped up in their own personal issues.
“
Oh,
man
,” Nick said. “You
prepared tuna and cucumber sandwiches again
, didn’t you?” He placed
a hand to the side of his face to feign a confidential
tone
as he said to Nina, “h
e
ha
s
peculiar eating habits.
” He draped a hand on Roland’s shoulder.
“Please dispense
with the comedic
aside
s
, Nicholas. I’m in no mood for fun and games.”
“Yeah, b
ecause you’re such a fun guy
and all
.”
Nick noticed Nina regarding him with a charming expression. He’d never seen anyone look at him like that before. When it came to women, he’d become accustomed to either anger or happiness. For whatever reason, he’d never been able to cultivate a middle ground. They either loved spending time with him or wanted to
slap his face…often and with great force behind it. He supposed that he only had himself to blame for their indignation
.
Of course, they spent plenty of time yelling or
cursing at him for not “having feelings,” or being “incapable of commitment” or “scared to let anyone in.” And these responses
persuaded him to retract whatever feelings he’d had,
similar to that of a turtle hiding within its shell upon an impending attack.
Therefore, upon seeing Nina granting him an introspective glance, Nick
said.
“We
should go dancing.
”
Nina quirked an eyebrow. “
Really?
Are you any good?”
“I’ve got moves.”
“
B
ut are they any good?”
“That’s a risk you’ll just have to take.” He held out a hand.
She took it.
When they
touched, Nick felt a
stimulating
sensation,
only not in the physical sense.
It was an emotional attachment that left him feeling centered and at peace. When he met Nina’s
gaze
, h
e knew without a doubt that she
also felt those same emotions, even though he couldn’t quite understand how or why that certainty struck him.
Startled by such intimacy, he almost let go of Nina’s hand. But a second later, desperate to resume that
subtle but powerful sensation,
he held
her
tighter, hoping to increase the feeling that ove
rwhelmed him. But doing so smothered that which he wanted to experience. Confused, he winced in irritation.
“Don’t think,” Nina said in an understanding tone. “Let your feelings guide you. Take me out dancing.”
“But I don’t know how.”
“Like this.” She reversed her grasp, so that she took his hand. “Don’t think. Just do.”
A moment later, they stood
outside a tiny wooden shack the size of a convenience store but
with
the rough
exterior of a barn
.
A
bove the door, a
yellow
rectangular
billboard
featured a red sign that said:
“Dance the Night Away
.
”
“Cool,” Nick said. “Maybe they’ll play some Van Halen.” He referred to a track off the group’s second album.
“It’ll happen if you want it to,” Nina said.
Of course it would. Nick had created this world, and he kept forgetting that he could change anything at any time. All he had to do was think it…and it would appear.
Hi
s thoughts veer
ed in a different direction, where he sat
on a plush red loveseat while
the
Hollywood
actresses Jessica Alba, Mila Kunis, and Rachel Bilson strutted toward him in sexy lingerie with pleasing smiles on their faces, eager to fulfill his deepest desires.
That singular thought should have changed the scenery. Only it didn’t play out as he expected. He remained outside the barn with Nina.
And when he looked at her, he knew why the trio of famous actresses hadn’t appeared before his eyes: none of them could elicit the sensation he’d
shared
with Nina only moments ago when she’d simply taken his hand. That connection, that simple act had made him feel more in touch with himself than at any other time in his life. And
that encounter
generat
ed
an intensity that rivaled the sensuality of
sex. On second th
ought, that momentary link
surpassed any sexual interlude he’d ever experienced. But how? They had only touched. How could it possibly compare to sex?
Unable to comprehend the bond between them, Nick decided to trust Nina’s earlier comment:
Let your feelings guide you. Don’t think. Just do
. He grabbed hold of the door handle and yanked it open,
placed a hand at the small of her back
, allowing Nina to enter first.
After s
he stepped inside
, h
e followed and offered her the crook of his arm. When she slipped her arm through it, a part of his soul that had long been vacant opened up to him. It felt similar to
opening the windows in your home after a long winter, allowing you to take in the scent of spring.
Nick turned his eyes upon a dance club unlike any he
had ever seen. He’d visited plenty of clubs, where DJ’s played dance o
riented artists ranging from
Flo Rida
and Lady Gaga
to Pitbull
and Kesha. Those rhythm and bass influenced musicians encouraged a specific style of dancing.
And although he spotted a number of couples exhibiting that which looked familiar to him, the majority of the men and women dancing seemed to have emanated
from
different
periods in
human history.
Straigh
t ahead, a woman wearing a scarlet
frock danced the Charleston while the wide necklace of white pearls around her neck swung from one direction to the other.
Her partner
, attired in a black tuxedo without
a bow tie
, threw his arms out and
swung his legs.
Behind them, a man wearing a checkered, buttoned down dress shirt did the twist while the woman
opposite him,
wearing a short-sleeved blouse and
a dark skirt did the same. Both
roared
with laughter, their faces shining, not with sweat, but with pure happiness.
To their left, a group of men
in black leather jackets and ripped up jeans clapped
their hands and bobbed
their heads in unison
while standing
in a circle as
a young man in the center did some breakdanci
ng. Off in the distance,
a couple rows of men and women
dressed in Elizabethan era clothing
undertook a style of dance, no doubt familiar to that period
.
Elsewhere,
couples
enjoyed
themselves while engrossed in
salsa dancing, line d
ancing,
tap dancing, disco dancing, Irish dancing, ballroom dancing,
and so many other different styles that Nick’s head spun.
And while this scene would have shocked almost any visitor, he only now realized something equally out of place: not one musical note sparked through a stereo system
. Only t
he sounds of laughter, talking, and shoes clacking against the floor hit his ears.
“What the hell!” Nick had never seen such a
n unusual
scene in his life. It dawned on him that he’d had that thought quite a bit during this dream.
And while that alone should have tipp
ed him off that he had a demented
imagination, another fact rivaled the soundless dance hall: the exterior of this building indicated a hole in the wall type dance club, allowing no more than sixty people to dance in comfort. But
the
size of this venue dwarfed that
estimate.
Hundreds of individuals occupied this building.
And every
couple had plenty of space
to themselves; each section, where differen
t dancing
sty
les converged, granted enjoyable
scenery
as well as a distinct area in which to dance: shadows enclosed those in each group, indicating the outskirts of each sector
.
But lights within each dividing line also symbolized the type of dance that individuals gyrated to.
For example, red, blue, and green strobe lights flickered on the ceiling above those breakdancing, while circular white lights shined down on those wearing cowboy hats, jeans, and
leather
boots while line dancing.
For those engaged in salsa d
ancing, the lights were dim, whereas one bright beam splashed upon the tap dancers.
Nina, however, didn’t seem surprised to have entered this scene. She walked among the crowd, and
obviously not feeling him
at
her side, turned back toward Nick
. She lifted her head, attempting an i
mpression of snobbish grandiosity
as she raised her hand, expecting him to take it.
He enjoyed her sense of humor and
took
her hand. Instantly, a wave of horns
and drums pounded through the speakers as Jay-Z
rapped a few lines
before
Beyoncé
started into “Crazy in Love.”
The rhythm
made
Nick start dancing before Nina, who joined in a second later, lighting up as thou
gh caught by surprise that Nick had
proven
his
dancing
ability. The beat thumped from the
floor and into his feet, commanding that he move, until it swep
t up his legs and into his hips.
The music became
a part of him.
He felt it in every muscle
in his body,
and it stirred
his soul.
He’d never felt so free of worries and responsibilities. The only things that mattered w
as
the music and how it made h
is body respond, followed by
the need to do whatever it took to make sure that Nina’s smile
never faltered
.
Nick
held out a hand and wagged
his finger at her as though she couldn’t
keep up with him in terms of
style and intensity.