Melinda’s Story
As I headed up the science center staircase, I saw my roommate entering the building. Sarah waved as I joined her.
“Hey, Melinda.” She looked all around as we headed towards the doors at the opposite end of the corridor. “Where’s your boyfriend?”
I shrugged. “On the phone. Why?”
“Where’re you going?” Sarah asked as we disembarked in front of the Theodore Rogers Athletic Center half an hourlater.
I pointed behind me. “The TRAC. I want to hang out in the dance studio for a little while. I’ll catch up with you at dinner.”
Sarah eyed my left ankle. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
I sighed. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”
Sarah didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t try to stop me as I headed inside. While I knew my friends were trying to look out for me, I was finding their constant doubt frustrating, bordering on annoying.
I went straight to the athletic office, where I received permission not only to not only use the dance studio but also to connect my phone to the sound system. I quickly headed to the locker room to change into a leotard and shorts before unlocking the studio.
As I strapped my tap shoes to my feet for the first time in two months, I felt a surge of energy. It had definitely been too long. I stretched at the barre slowly, twisting my bad ankle in every possible direction. When I met no resistance, I turned on my tap dance playlist.
The warm-up music soon transitioned into music I could dance to. I closed my eyes, letting the music guide my feet. I danced rhythmically to the music, throwing in the occasional leap or turn. When the song ended, I went to the corner to pause the music and grab some water.
“That was fantastic.”
I searched for the voice, finding a figure standing in the doorway. He was about as tall as Pat, though he had the lean, muscular body of a dancer. Brody had been my dance partner in our Nutcracker performance last term.
I smiled as he crossed the room and embraced me.
“I still can’t believe you’re only a frosh. Why did you turn down Pablo’s offer to dance with us?”
I held out my foot. “I broke my ankle in December. I’ve only been off the crutches for a week. This I the first time I’ve been able to tap dance on it. But what’re you doing here?”
“Do you know Keri in the advanced jazz class?”
When I shook my head, Brody shrugged. “Well, she came to assist Miss Heather yesterday. Left her shoes here.” Brody made a sweeping gesture. “She was really annoyed she had to borrow shoes from the bin today. So, I volunteered to come find them on my way home. I live like ten minutes from here.”
I looked around the room, spying a pair of tan, ankle-high canvas boots in the corner near my bag. My shoes clacked along the floor as I crossed to them, holding them up for Brody. “Are these them?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” Brody took the shoes, then looked mournfully around the studio. “I guess I should let you get back to your solo. Unless—”
“Hmm?”
“Well, my shoes are in the car. Would you like some company? Or would you rather dance alone?”
I smiled. I had wanted to dance alone, to get a good feeling of what my ankle could do and to just let the music become a part of me. But I had loved dancing with Brody last term. We had real chemistry. I wasn’t about to turn down his offer.
“Nah. I would love some company.”
“Great. Lemme go grab my shoes.”
Brody bounced out of the room with the lost jazz shoes. I shook my head and resumed my music, continuing my dance while I waited for Brody to return. He quickly stripped off his outer clothes to reveal shorts and a tee shirt, then swapped his shoes. He did warm-up exercises for the rest of my song, joining me as the next one began.
At first, we danced beside each other, each doing our own thing. About halfway through the first song, however, Brody shouted, “Try this!”
We began a type of call and answer routine where one of us would perform a move and the other would mimic it. While I had a tendency to want to do the same steps over and over, Brody called out ones I hadn’t done in a long time. I had to watch him to see what he was talking about. Or he arranged steps I knew into combinations I never would have imagined. But they weren’t difficult. I had no problem copying Brody’s steps and thoroughly enjoyed myself.
When the song ended, I paused the music for a water break. We sat with our backs against the mirror as we tried to regain our breath.
“I don’t believe you broke your ankle,” Brody said between gulps. “You’re dancing as good as I remember.”
I laughed. “I promise, I did.”
“I think you were just too scared to join our class.”
“Wait! I have proof.” I searched through the pictures on my phone until I found one from when I went mini-golfing with Pat after Christmas. “See, there I am. Crutches and all.”
“Are you . . . is that mini-golf?”
I giggled. “Yeah.”
Brody shook his head, taking the phone. “Mini-golf on crutches. Hey, is that Patrick McGregor? Was it some sort of celebrity thing?”
“It’s a really long story but—”
Brody wasn’t listening. He was scrolling through the pictures on my phone. “Who’s the hottie?”
I looked over his shoulder, raising my eyebrows. “That’s my best friend. Walter.”
“He seeing anyone?”
“He’s in between girlfriends at the moment.”
“Your subtle way of telling me he’d never be interested in me?” Brody returned the phone with a smile.
“Yeah. Kinda.”
“That’s a shame.” With a shrug, Brody got to his feet, reaching down for my hands. “Ready for another song?”
I resumed the music, and we returned to the center of the floor. This time, Brody called out steps in advance, and we performed them in unison. About halfway through the song, Brody turned to face me. “Butterfly!”
I stopped moving. “Huh?”
Brody crossed his arms and grabbed my wrists.
I shook my head. “I haven’t done this in a long time.”
“Do you remember how?”
“Show me.” I braced myself to take Brody’s weight as he leaned into me, kicking his legs high in the air behind him.
“Your turn. I promise I won’t drop you.”
I smiled. “See, I trusted you until you said that.”
“Just do it.” Brody tightened his grip. I leaned into him as I swung my legs around, though not very high.
Brody shook his head with a smile. “Come on. You can get higher than that!”
We practiced the move until the end of the song, when I could finally swing my legs above my waist.
“There it is!” Brody decided. He sat by the mirror as he took another break. I again paused the music, grabbing my water before collapsing beside Brody.
He gestured to me with his water bottle. “So, now that you’re healed, will you come to the studio?”
I shrugged. “I already signed up to manage basketball. I can’t quit in the middle of the season. But maybe next term. If Madame Odette will still let me. You guys must be working on your routines for your recital by now.”
Brody waved his water dismissively. “I bet you’d catch on quickly enough. Besides. I don’t have a partner. I’m doing all these silly solos while the other guys are dancing with their partners. I swear, Pablo choreographed the routine assuming you would join us. Every class, he shows everyone the steps, then while they’re all working on it, he’s all like Okay. Now, Brody. What should we do with you? It would make my life so much easier if you joined us.”
I giggled. “But there would be so much to learn.”
Brody shook his head. “Nah. I’ll show you. Lemme find the music.”
He leaped to his feet, heading straight to the corner, where he grabbed my phone. I had set it to remain unlocked, so Brody had no problem scrolling for the phone. Eventually, he pressed play and ran to the side of the room. I couldn’t help laughing as I listened to my boyfriend’s father singing.
Brody performed the routine, telling me where I would partner with him. About halfway through the song, he restarted the music, and I joined him. I caught on quickly. After only a few runs, I could get through the routine with very few reminders, although the two of us had some trouble performing the lifts.
Brody returned to the mirror, turning off the music for another water break. “See? You should definitely join us.”
“I am definitely going to try. That was so much fun.” I glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. “Dinner already started, and I need to pack my bag for study hours. I should probably go. I had a great time dancing with you.”
After we changed our shoes, I gave Brody a big hug. “Maybe we can do this again sometime.”
“I’m free Saturday.”
I checked my calendar. “I have a home game. It should finish by four.”
Brody smiled. “It’s a date.”
“Have you been dancing all this time?” Walter asked when I joined my friends at the dinner table just before the dining hall closed.
I shrugged. “Well, I stopped at the dorm for a quick shower and my books.”
Pat played with my hair. “You were there for a long time.”
I chose to ignore the tone of concern I could hear in his voice. “You remember my show? I had a partner? Well, he stopped by and we danced together for a while.”
“Sounds fun,” Sarah said. “Well, for you.”
“It was so much fun. He showed me the routine they’re doing in Mr. Pablo’s class for their recital. I’m going to talk to the athletic office next term, but Brody thinks Mr. Pablo is going to invite me again.” I shrugged. “We’re going to get together again Saturday.”
I had arrived at dinner very late. I was still eating when Sarah and Larry cleared their trays, declaring they wanted to go for a walk before study hours.
Pat turned to his brother, who was scarfing down a small pile of cookies. “Hey, Doofus? Can I talk to Melinda alone for a few minutes?”
Walter sent me a pleading look. “You better meet me upstairs. I seriously need help with math tonight.”
I gestured to my plate. “I’ll be up in a little while. I just want to finish my tacos.”
Walter nodded and bussed his tray. Pat watched his brother leave before turning to me, playing with my hair and keeping his voice low.
“Rule Number Four.”
I sent him a puzzled look. This past weekend, when we had gotten back together, we had created a list of rules to help our relationship. Rule number four was that we would talk to each other when something was bothering one of us.
Although I was holding my taco, I placed my free hand on Pat’s leg. “What’s wrong? You’ve seemed quiet since I got here.”
“I have so many questions, I’m not sure where to start. I don’t want to sound like the jealous boyfriend, but when you told me you were dancing this afternoon, why didn’t you mention your friend was joining you?”
I shrugged. “We didn’t plan it. He just showed up. Then, he asked if he could join me and it was so much fun and we’re going to do it again Saturday.”
Pat bit his lip. “I’m not sure how to say this, but are you sure he wants to dance with you? Could it be he’s just using that as an excuse to spend some time with you?”
“We like dancing together.”
“Sweetheart, I know you would never cheat on me, but—”
“You are jealous!” I couldn’t quite hide my smile. “Trust me. Brody only wants to dance. He’s not attracted to me like that.”
“I know you think that—”
I rolled my eyes. “We’re just friends.”
“I know you feel that way, but how can you be sure he does?”
“Call it a hunch.”
“Yeah, but you don’t know for sure, do you?”
I was growing irritated. Pat’s cuteness had worn off. “You’re starting to sound like the jealous boyfriend.”
“I’m not trying to be. But, sweetheart, I’ve seen you dance. It’s hard not to be attracted to you. Even my brother thinks so. You know that.”
I shook my head. “Trust me. Brody doesn’t like me like that.”
“How can you be so sure? Does he have a girlfriend?”
I shrugged. “He didn’t mention one.”
Pat narrowed his eyes at me. “What’s with that smile?”
“Well, Brody didn’t believe me when I said I broke my ankle. So, I showed him a picture from when we went mini-golfing. And he started looking at some of my other pictures. And he wanted to know if one of my friends was single.”
Pat scowled. “Oh, really? Which friend?”
“Your brother. I believe his exact words were, Who’s this hottie?”
Pat took a moment to finish his water before answering. “So he’s—”
“Not attracted to me in the slightest.”
“You could have mentioned that earlier.”
I patted his cheek. “But you’re kinda cute when you’re jealous. We okay?”
Pat kissed me. “Yeah. We’re okay.”
Pat’s Story
Taco night was one of my favorite meals at Hartfield. For every other meal, I had to go into the servery to get my food, either self-serve or by asking the person behind the counter to prepare me a dish. But on taco night, they lined up tables near the salad bar in the main dining hall, loading them with shells, tortillas, and more fillings than I could ever imagine.
At the risk of looking like my gluttonous brother, I took two plates and placed two tortillas on each one, spreading sour cream on all of them. As I filled them with steak, chicken, grilled peppers and onions, cheese, lettuce, hot sauce, and a few other toppings, my mind flashed back about two years ago, to when I was a third former.
My two best friends and I had dared each other to make super tacos, putting a small spoonful of every topping into a single tortilla. I ended up biting right into a jalapeno pepper on my first bite. My friends were in tears as I guzzled down my water.
I was no longer talking to them. We had grown apart too far to be friends again. As I headed into the smaller section of the dining hall, I decided that maybe next taco night I would dare my brother to eat a super taco. The gourmand probably would do it in a heartbeat.
I plopped my tray beside my brother. Walter took a huge bite of his own taco as he turned to me. “Wha yuh buh?”
Since I had grown up with the pig, I had no problem understanding him. It didn’t mean I had to like it. I shook my head. “I was working on an essay for Latin. You realize girls don’t like when you talk with food in your mouth, right?”
Walter made a point of looking around the table. I followed his gaze. Our table was empty except for a canoodling couple. Larry and his girlfriend were so engrossed in their conversation, I wasn’t sure they were aware I had joined them.
Walter shrugged. “I don’t see any girls.”
“That’s my point. How was wrestling?”
Walter smiled. “Pinned the guy in under two minutes. Fastest pin yet.”
“Fantastic. What’s that? Six pins?”
“Eight. I’m undefeated.”
“I can’t wait for your next match.” I looked across the table. “Hey, Sarah? Have you seen your roommate?”
She shook her head. “Not since we got back. She said something about dancing at the TRAC.”
Larry raised his eyebrows at me. “She can dance again?”
I shrugged. “She said the doctor said her ankle was healed.”
“Did you try texting her?” Walter asked.
“Yeah. She hasn’t answered me.”
Walter nodded his head toward the servery. Melinda was carrying her tray toward us. Her wet hair was draped over the backpack she had studiously lugged to supper. As she placed her tray beside me, she gave me a quick kiss on the top of my head.
Walter smiled at her between bites. “Have you been dancing all this time?”
“Well, I stopped at the dorm for a quick shower and my books.” Melinda shrugged off her bag and took her seat.
I glanced at my watch. “You were there for a long time.”
Melinda’s eyes lit up. “You remember my show?”
How could I forget? Melinda was a tap-dancing gingerbread cookie in a production of the Nutcracker last semester. It was the first time I had seen her dance. I nodded and Melinda continued.
“I had a partner? Well, he stopped by and we danced together for a while.”
“Sounds fun,” Sarah said. “Well, for you.”
Melinda smiled. “It was so much fun. He showed me the routine they’re doing in Mr. Pablo’s class for their recital. I’m going to talk to the athletic office next term, but Brody thinks Mr. Pablo is going to invite me again. We’re going to get together again Saturday.”
I was so confused. When she said she was going to work out in the studio, I had gotten the impression she would be alone. Why hadn’t she told me he was joining her? And why would he show her the routine if they weren’t even sure she would return to the class? She had received that invitation before she broke her ankle. Was her ankle even strong enough for her to be dancing like that in the first place?
My dinner lost its appeal. Melinda and Sarah spent the rest of the meal discussing their basketball game. After breaking her ankle, Melinda had signed on to manage Sarah’s team. While Walter and Larry discussed their favorite taco combinations, I pushed the food around my plate.
Not long after the dining hall closed, Sarah and Larry decided they needed to go make out before study hours. Officially, they were going for a walk. Meanwhile, my meal was not sitting well.
I looked at my brother, who was inhaling cookies. “Hey, Doofus? Can I talk to Melinda alone for a few minutes?”
Walter looked pleadingly at Melinda. “You better meet me upstairs. I seriously need help with the math tonight.”
Melinda pointed to her plate. “I’ll be up in a little while. I just want to finish my tacos.”
Walter nodded and bussed his tray. I waited until he was in the dishroom before I told Melinda I wanted to talk to her.
“I have so many questions, I’m not sure where to start.” It was probably best to start with the one bothering me the most. “I don’t want to sound like the jealous boyfriend, but when you told me you were dancing this afternoon, why didn’t you mention your friend was joining you?”
Melinda shrugged. “We didn’t plan it. He just showed up. And then he asked if he could join me and it was so much fun and we’re going to do it again Saturday.”
Something about her story was making my stomach uneasy. I tried to explain it to her. “I’m not sure how to say this, but are you sure he wants to dance with you? Could it be he’s just using that as an excuse to spend some time with you?”
“We like dancing together.”
“Sweetheart, I know you would never cheat on me, but—”
She couldn’t quite hide her smirk as she took a sip of water. “You are jealous. Trust me. Brody only wants to dance. He’s not attracted to me like that.”
She could be so naïve sometimes. “I know you think that—”
“We’re just friends.”
“I know you feel that way, but how can you be sure he does?”
She smiled. “Call it a hunch.”
“Yeah, but you don’t know for sure, do you?”
“You’re starting to sound like the jealous boyfriend.”
I knew I was. “I’m not trying to be. But, sweetheart, I’ve seen you dance. It’s hard not to be attracted to you. Even my brother thinks so. You know that.”
“Trust me. He doesn’t like me like that.”
How was I supposed to explain to her that guys liked to hang around girls they had a crush on? Like I had done with her. I shook my head. “How can you be so sure? Does he have a girlfriend?”
“He didn’t mention one.”
Melinda was a terrible liar. I knew instantly she was definitely hiding something. “What’s with that smile?”
“Well, Brody didn’t believe me when I said I broke my ankle. So, I showed him a picture from when we all went mini-golfing. And he started looking at some of my other pictures. And he wanted to know if one of my friends was single.”
Oh, my poor naïve girlfriend. Asking about one of her friends to get closer to her? That trick was so old. But I could humor her before explaining things to her. “Oh, really? Which friend?”
She smirked. “Your brother. I believe his exact words were, Who’s this hottie?”
I wasn’t exactly sure what to say. I drained the last of my water glass, trying to figure out this guy’s angle. Ultimately, I decided maybe there was none. “So, he’s—”
“Not attracted to me in the slightest.”
“You could have mentioned that earlier.”
Melinda patted my cheek. “But you’re kind of cute when you’re jealous. We okay?”
I kissed the top of her head. “Yeah, we’re okay.”
That night, Melinda and I went to the Humanities rotunda after study hours. I played with her hair as we snuggled on a couch. “I’m sorry about getting jealous earlier.”
“It’s okay. I probably would have done the same thing.”
I couldn’t quite hide my smirk. “You have done the same thing.”
“Okay, fine. I have done the same thing.”
“Just do me a favor? Promise me you’ll tell me if he tries to make a move? It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just—”
She leaned into me. “I understand. And I promise. But I’m telling you. I really don’t think he will.”
“Can you tell me more about him?”
“Why?”
I shrugged. “It feels weird that you have a friend I don’t know.”
Melinda traced her fingers along the back of the arm I had wrapped across her chest. “He’s a junior, like you. He’s been dancing at the studio since he was like ten, I think. He’s a townie. And he’s a lot stronger than he looks. When we were doing butterflies, I could get my feet above my head.”
“Pretend I don’t speak dance for a minute.”
Melinda giggled. “We were doing this partner thing where we hold each other’s hands and kick our feet behind us.” She placed two fingers in a V on my arm. “He supported my weight while I was in the air. He lifted me high enough that my feet went like this.”
Without moving her wrist, she lifted one finger, then the other, until they were both hyper-extended, then lowered them in the same order. I could almost picture what she was describing.
“It sounds like you really like dancing with him.”
Melinda nodded. “I do. But I promise. It’s just dancing.”
I pulled her a little closer, wishing I could share her confidence.
Attention Hammerheads
Melinda is always trying to build her vocabulary. What were some words in this episode that were new to you? She will add them to her vocabulary journal.
Hartfield Chronicles 