Hope I won’t regret it

Anastasia James

This must be the fifteenth time I have looked in the mirror-not that I am counting, but I simply cannot make up my mind. When I left the house in the late afternoon to buy the missing ingredients for my father to finish dinner, I would never have imagined meeting John.

Actually, I didn't even know that this was his name or that he was going to ask me out.

Right, he didn't exactly ask me out, he just told me to join them. Plural. In other words, it won't just be the two of us, there will be other people. But it's not that I really want to be alone with him either, I just find it all very strange.

Two knocks on the door woke me up from my thoughts, and when I turned around, I saw that my father was just standing with his head inside the room, analyzing me. I give him a small smile and look at myself in the mirror again, hating the way the pants fell on my body. Maybe the first dress I picked up would have been better.

“Going somewhere?” My father asked.

“Yes.” I say in a sigh. “Do you think these pants show my body too much?” I turned to him, hoping for an honest opinion.

“I think so, but it's not over the top at all.” He shrugged. “You didn't like it?”

“I don't know.” I took another look at my clothes through the mirror. “I'm a little undecided.”

“Oh, you didn't even have to say it!” He laughed, so I looked at him. “Your bed says it all.” He pointed with his chin to a spot behind me. I followed his eyes and found a mountain of clothes on top of it. I didn't know I had tried on so many. “Who are you going out with?”

“With people I've met here in the neighborhood.” I shrugged, opening the closet to choose which shoe I was going to wear.

“Really?” My father looked surprised. “Well, I'm glad you've made friends, but…” He paused. “Be careful who you walk with, okay? There are people here who are very dangerous.”

“Boots or sneakers?” I show them both shoes, waiting for his opinion.

“Aren't those the boots you wore to that party and came back barefoot, complaining of pain?” My father arched his eyebrows, leaning back against the wall beside the door.

“Whew!” I sighed, relieved to ask for his help, otherwise I doubt I would have remembered that detail.

Since I don't know where we are going, I prefer to be minimally comfortable. I pushed some clothes that were on top of the bed, freeing up a little space, so I could sit down and tie the laces of my sneakers.

“Don't worry about that, Dad. They're good.” I assured, even though I wasn't sure. “And I don't know what danger you see in this town. Everything is so quiet here!”

“Yes, but there are some tattooed motorcyclists who ride around at night.” He insisted. “Definitely don't mess with them. We don't know what gang they're from or if they're dangerous.”

“I think someone's been watching too many movies.” I muttered and stood up, stopping in front of the mirror to check my look one last time. I kind of liked the end result. “Relax.” I said in a sigh, turning to face him. “I can take care of myself, okay, and another that I don't like motorcycles, so you can be carefree.”

“Fine, but If is anything bad, call me, okay?” I felt his watchful gaze on me as I stuffed some essentials into the black leather bag I'm taking with me. “I'll be there in five minutes.”

I nodded and eventually smiled.

“Thank you, my superhero.” I stood on my tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “But now I have to go.” I said and left the room.

“Make sure you're not late. And don't be so inattentive when walking down the street!” It was the last advice I heard my father give before I left the apartment.

I went downstairs and within minutes I was walking along the sidewalks towards Rachel's, as John asked me to meet him there. I hope he didn't choose this meeting point because he was afraid I would get lost along the way, because honestly, right?

But, I confess that I am excited. In Chicago, my only friend was Bethany, because everyone at the dance academy simply hated me. At first, I thought it was because of something I had done, but then I found out it was just jealousy, because the teacher always gave me the best parts. Well, I can't say that I was devastated by the situation, after all, it is at competitions that we attract critical eyes and full scholarships at renowned academies, so it was understandable that the stage turned into a real fighting ring.

About fifteen minutes later, I arrived in front of Rachel's. Confirming my suspicions, its sign was made of LED and had a light so bright that it almost blinded me. I held tightly onto the strap of my purse and after looking around, I pulled open the dark glass door, entering the place. There was a real silence.

It is a simple reception, without many luxuries, yet cozy. I noticed that there were some nails on the walls, which indicated that paintings had once been hung there, but now there was nothing left. I wondered why they removed the paintings. I bet that with them, the atmosphere was even more welcoming.

I took a deep breath and started walking around the place, aiming to get to know it better. Suddenly, I heard the first chords of a bass guitar and soon a slightly heavier beat began. The music was coming from the room at the end of the hall, so I decided to go there. It seemed to be a mixture of POP and R&B. Honestly, I can't really tell the difference.

When I stopped at the door, I was surprised to see John dancing in front of the mirror. He was completely at ease in sweatpants and a plain white shirt as he moved around the room. His arms and legs were synchronized, at a very fast pace.

I crossed my arms below my breasts and chose to lean against the door frame to get a better look at him – it was the best decision of my life, because the next few steps simply stole all the breath from my lungs.

The beats slowed down and his body followed. It was a very suggestive movement, and I must admit that the movement of his hips had me mesmerized. The bridge of the song came to an end, again giving way to the faster beat in a very repetitive chorus.

John spun around in the same spot, and ended up facing the door, finally noticing my presence. He gave a smile, still a little breathless, and turned to pick up his phone from the floor and pause the music.

“I didn't know you were here already.” He said, pulling his long hair back. His breathing was very erratic.

“Yes, sorry for the delay in showing up.” I said, finally entering the room. “I was enjoying a 'private show'.” I joked.

“I see.” He laughed nasally. “And you liked it?”

“Yeah, it wasn't so bad.” I shrugged, preferring to refrain from the situation.

“Why don't you dance with me then?” He suggested, smiling expectantly.

“Oh, no, no, no!” I shake my head. “I definitely don't know how to dance that thing.”

“There's a first time for everything.” He winked and walked over to me. “Come on.”

“Look, John…” I opened my mouth to argue, but stopped as soon as I saw him move a little away from me.

“Welcome to…” He did a 360° turn in the same place. “Introductory hip-hop course.” He smiled broadly, striking a pose.

I ended up laughing at the situation and looked around, wondering if accepting was really a good option. When I looked in John's direction, I noticed that he was looking intently at me, and from the look on his face, I guessed that he wouldn't take “no” for an answer, so I sighed.

“Okay, professor. Where do we start?” I joked.

“First, you have to feel the music.” He gave a few taps on his cell phone. “I'll put the music back on.” He said, and soon the same music from before began to echo around the room.

“Is that 'hip-hop'?” I frowned.

“Of course! What did you expect? To learn 'hip-hop' without hip-hop?” He laughed and looked at me with raised eyebrows. I pressed my lips together as I realized that my question was stupid. “Well, let's start by timing the music like this.” He said, pacing back and forth. “Go ahead, give it a try. It's not hard.”

“Right.” I nodded my head, trying to imitate his movements.

I confess that I felt very dizzy, because it's so different from ballet, however, I didn't give up and kept repeating his steps – at least what I thought they were.

“Loosen up a bit. This is not choreography to be followed to the letter.” He instructed. “Like I said, you have to feel the music.”

Although it didn't make any sense, I sighed and tried to “feel” the rhythm of the music. I closed my eyes and began to imagine myself inside an empty room, with a single spotlight on me. I like the idea of not having anyone around when I'm dancing, so I don't feel uncomfortable.

“Very good!” John commented, making me look at him. “Come on, now like this: turn and score.” He motioned again and I followed suit. “Three, four. That's it, you're getting the hang of it.” He smiled as we moved in unison. “Turn and swing.” He sped up the movements. “Six, seven, eight.”

I had some difficulty, but I think I finally understood the rhythm of it, because it got easier with each step John added. I felt so confident that I started dancing by myself, mixing everything he taught me with what I knew and had seen in movies. We just stood there, dancing and enjoying the moment, and even though I didn't know what I was really doing, I thought it was fun. John was fun.

The music gradually came to an end, until it stopped completely. My breathing was irregular, just like John's, and I could feel my heart beating. He smiled and threw his hair back, resting his hand on his waist next.

“Wow!” He laughed, breathlessly, putting his cell phone in the pocket of his jeans. “Where did you learn those last steps?”

“Well…” I bit my lips. “I imitated the dancing of the girls who were here at Rachel's earlier.”

“You learned a choreography you've never seen in your life in 15 minutes and just watching?” His jaw dropped. “That was amazing!”

“Thank you. I had a great teacher.” I gave him a wink, making him laugh.

“The apprentice has surpassed the master.” He licked his lips, laughing. “So, did you like it?” He asked expectantly.

“I loved it!” I nodded my head frantically. “But…”

“But?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Not really my style.” I grimaced.

“And what's your style?” He emphasized, crossing his arms.

“I prefer something slower, you know?” I gestured, and seeing the confusion on his face, I sighed. “More specifically, ballet.” I said and pressed my lips together, waiting for any negative reaction.

“You swear?” He arched his eyebrows. “Okay, this is very interesting.” He commented, rubbing his chin. “Where do you take classes?”

“I did.” I corrected him. “It was in Chicago, at the Humples Academy of Classical Ballet.”

“Why don't you do more?” He frowned, tilting his head to the side slightly. "Don't tell me it's because of the distance.” He narrowed his eyes, making me laugh.

“It's more complicated than it looks.” I stared at my own hands.

“Don't you miss it? Why don't you go back to dancing?”

“To be honest, I do, but…” I shrugged my shoulders and even opened my mouth to explain, but I couldn't formulate a single sentence.

“Dreams are only impossible to fulfill if you extinguish their flame.” He said firmly, forcing me to look at him. “If it's something you want, then go for it. Time and distance are nothing.”

“I-I…” I swallowed dryly, not knowing how to respond. John gave a smile and picked up his phone again.

“We're late.” He said, after looking at the device's display. “Shall we go?” He tucks it into the back pocket of his sweatpants. “The guys should be there by now.”

My mouth hung open momentarily, not saying a word. The change of subject was faster than my brain could process the information. I shook my head to wake myself up and looked at him with a small smile.

“I thought the mystery place was here.” I commented, watching him pick up his car keys, which were on the floor near the mirrors.

“No.” He laughed and turned to me. “It's a much nicer place.” He smiled. “And noisy” he added.

“Okay.” I raise my arms in surrender.

“Are you ready for something more, Anastasia?” He raised an eyebrow, with a suggestive smile on his lips.

“Certainly, John.” I returned his smile, narrowing my eyes at him.

I hope I won't regret it.