JOEY: So I didn't need to wear tap shoes?
ME: Joey, this is ballroom dancing. Why did you think you'd be tapping?
I don't know what I was thinking.
When you need another class so you can meet minimum credit requirements and all that fits into your schedule is Introduction to Ballroom Dancing, you have to talk someone else into taking it with you.
And Joey was the only person dumb enough to agree.
JOEY: Should I change?
ME: It's okay. You'll just make lots of noise.
JOEY: I am trying to be more vocal.
At least I won't wind up with some strange partner.
PROFESSOR HIGHSMITH: All right, everyone! Find the person that matches the number I gave you.
Joey and I don't match.
So much for not dancing with a stranger.
I look across the room and the crowd seems to part as I see another familiar--yet not so friendly--face.
JEREMY: We match.
ME: For that you'd have to shop somewhere nice.
JEREMY: She must be really progressive if she matched up two boys.
ME: She's just half-blind. I was hoping to dance with Joey.
JEREMY: Sounds like fun if you want to sound like Savion Glover while you foxtrot.
The professor was about fifty, and she stood up on a box in the middle of the gym as we began to take our positions around her.
PROFESSOR: Grasp your partner firmly!
This was going to be downright magical.
After some more instructions, Jeremy and I were moving around the floor.
It seemed so strange. Just a few months ago, we were on the verge of falling in love, and now we were treating each other like Taylor and that Jonas kid on New Year's Rockin' Eve.
JEREMY: I'm stepping on your feet.
ME: I'm aware.
Joey tapped by us. He was paired with a rather large girl with short arms.
I leaned over and whispered to him.
ME: How you doing?
JOEY: She smells like shoe polish.
Curious, considering she was barefoot.
JEREMY: Look, maybe I should explain--
ME: Dip me.
JEREMY: You don't dip in a foxtrot.
ME: Why not? Be creative.
JEREMY: Fine.
He dipped me and nearly knocked me into an oncoming couple.
JEREMY: Happy now?
ME: Very.
Jeremy softened a bit, and we moved off to the far side of the gym.
ME: Shouldn't we stay close to the professor?
JEREMY: I need to talk to you.
ME: Why? Do you need to put a curse on me?
JEREMY: Can you please stop acting like I hate you?
ME: I don't care if you hate me. I only care if you like me, which you don't.
JEREMY: I do!
ME: Then why?
JEREMY: It's complicated.
ME: Of course, it's complicated. Everything's complicated. We're two gay men doing a foxtrot. Life is complicated!
I broke away and started walking back towards the professor who was yelling out to Joey. He seemed to have broken into a routine from 42nd Street.
Rhumba music began.
I felt Jeremy pull me back into him.
JEREMY: Don't walk away yet.
ME: I wasn't the one who walked away.
We started dancing again.
JEREMY: I came back.
ME: You shouldn't have if you loved New York so much.
JEREMY: I couldn't love New York. I like it here.
ME: Why?
JEREMY: Because you can never know New York. Not all of it. It's too big. Too many hidden spots. Too many traps that are just waiting there for you to fall into them. I don't know if you can truly love something unless you can know all of it--and love all of it--the good and the bad.
I felt his face moving closer to mine.
ME: Is that why you called it quits? Because you don't know all of me?
JEREMY: No. I know every part of you, and I love every part. But you can't say the same for me, and you know that.
This time when I broke away, I didn't let him pull me back.
I walked right to the door, but he walked in front of me.
ME: Move.
JEREMY: Billy, this isn't easy.
ME: Knocking you out of the way will be.
JEREMY: You don't--
I got back in his face, but this time it wasn't a tender moment.
ME: You were wrong.
JEREMY: I--
ME: When you said you know every part of me.
JEREMY: That was--
ME: You don't. Oh, trust me, you don't.
I smiled at him.
ME: You don't know the part of me that loves it when a guy bites down a little on my lower lip when he's kissing me. You don't know how small all the underwear is I was planning on modeling for you when you got back. You don't know how my heart races when I used to think of you late at night in bed--
JEREMY: Billy, we're in class.
ME: Fuck class, fuck the foxtrot, and fuck you.
JEREMY: Since when do you swear?
I started running my hand up his chest.
ME: You don't know the part of me that wants to have sex in a hammock.
JEREMY: A hammock? That's so dangerous.
ME: You don't know the part of me that used to shoplift, or hated my body, or couldn't speak without stammering, but I'm not stammering anymore. And you don't need to know those parts, do you, Jeremy? You only need to know the sweet little kid with a cute facebook picture that you can love when you want and then cast off when you find out he's actually an adult with problems and history and hidden spots and traps just like New York, who doesn't fit quite so easily on the pedestal you put him on, right? You just wanted people to click on some link and see that you got me. You won the challenge. You didn't want a boyfriend; you wanted a trophy. And when you went off and found some that were shinier than I was, I suddenly wasn't good enough.
JEREMY: That's not true.
ME: Oh, yes it is. Funnily enough, it is. Because I am a trophy. And I'm going to make someone really happy one day, because when I meet him, I'm going to cater to all his parts.
JEREMY: Please don't do this.
ME: You didn't love me. You loved a fairy tale. You loved a facebook picture. You loved an angel, Jeremy, and I'm just a guy. I'm sorry I couldn't have been perfect. I know it would have made life so much easier for you.
JEREMY: Billy--
ME: Good-bye.
I walked out of the room, and just as I did--
The music stopped.
No comments:
Post a Comment