The Dance We Remember (Love and Other Dreams #4)

Chapter 7

Aurora

The noise in the dance hall is deafening. I count a total of twelve couples, including Enzo and me, warming up for their final performance in the grand ballroom in front of the jury.

Sky is here too. When we met yesterday while waiting for the motivational talk, she looked like a startled rabbit with freckles and a red wig. Today, she glides gracefully across the floor in a super-sleek glittering skirt with her dance partner, and I can hardly take my eyes off them.

She may not be a perfect dancer, but her charisma more than compensates for it. And I instantly liked her so much that we had coffee together yesterday afternoon. Getting accepted into this academy is just as crucial for her as it is for me. Maybe even more so.

I catch her gaze and nod confidently. We’ll both make it; it’s just the way it has to be.

She responds to my nod hesitantly, then focuses on the steps, and I continue looking around.

Couple number twenty-two has retreated to a corner, practicing lifts. The tall Swedish pair seems to be meditating together. The others are dancing.

They all wear competition outfits today, while Enzo and I decided to skip the glitter. I opted for ankle-length leggings with leg warmers and a simple crop top. Enzo wears black trousers and a snug V-neck shirt.

Deep in thought, I lean forward, sliding my fingers under my feet to stretch my hamstrings. "Perhaps we should change into our competition attire," I say to Enzo, who is mobilizing his shoulder rotators beside me.

"Do you really think they care about the outfits?" He reaches for the green resistance band, letting one end fall to the ground.

I intensify the stretch. Through the speaker, couple thirty-eight is called to perform. "It's our last dance. Our final chance. And so far, it hasn't been going well."

"What are you trying to say?" He steps on the resistance band with a stony expression and performs a few quick bicep curls.

Not only did I make mistakes during the audition but he also made errors. Slowly, I straighten up from my bend. "That we have to give it our all today," I reply, interlocking my fingers behind my back and pulling my fist downward. My chest expands as I take a deep breath.

With pressed lips, he directs his gaze to the frantic activity in the dance hall. "Don't we always do that?"

Just as I'm about to answer, a crackle sounds from the speaker. "Couple number forty-three."

It's our turn already?

"Did they skip some couples?" I ask, confused. Or did we misjudge the preparation time?

My dance partner shrugs. "We shouldn't keep them waiting." He hurriedly takes my hand and pulls me out of the hall.

We hasten down the corridor toward the half-open double doors through which the spirited mambo music seeps. The couple before us must still be dancing.

I don't ask Enzo if he feels ready. Maybe because his answer could unsettle me. Or maybe because it doesn't make a difference.

We will enter this ballroom confidently, shining with self-assurance. And then we will dance exactly the breathtaking mambo that I promised Maxime two days ago in the park.

Maxime…

Enzo's grip tightens. I manage to return it before we step through the door and position ourselves against the wall, waiting for our turn.

I know I shouldn't do it, but I let my gaze wander to Maxime. He fixes his gaze on the couple on the dance floor. His legs move to the rhythm of the music, and he wears a barely noticeable smile on his lips. I can't see his eyes.

That's good. It means he can't unsettle me. My heart is already pounding like crazy. The music fades, and polite applause fills the room. Madame Durand nods with approval. The suit-wearing man with the gelled hair, who's supposedly the academy's most important benefactor, claps enthusiastically. I better not look at Maxime's reaction. There's no time for that as the couple hurries past us toward the exit.

Enzo and I start moving. In the middle of the ballroom, we stop and assume the starting position. He's right behind me, and I feel his warm breath on my neck and the heat of his chest against my spine.

I close my eyes. Now, Aurora. Show them what you're made of.

The first notes of the mambo fill the speakers. Enzo places his arm around my waist and reaches for my hand.

In my mind, I count the beats until my entrance.

Three... Two... Unexpectedly, Enzo nudges me even though we still have to wait another beat. I try not to show my surprise, but I fail. My turn becomes a series of stumbling steps.

This can't be happening!

Dark shadows loom within me, but I smile away the mistake like a true professional and, together with Enzo, assume the classic mambo dance position.

At precisely the right moment, I step backward with my right foot. Enzo follows.

This move works. Thank goodness.

I look up at my dance partner, and our gazes meet.

Everything's fine , he signals to me.

We can do this , I silently communicate to him because anything else is simply unthinkable.

He pulls me closer, and we circle our hips together, preparing for the transition to the sidestep. Finally, I feel like we are in sync. From now on, our performance can only get better.

Relieved, I execute the first steps before breaking away from Enzo for the open variation of the sidestep and turn my head forward.

Toward the jury. Toward where Maxime is sitting.

Whether I want to or not, my gaze lingers on him. He doesn't look like my dance is making his blood boil at all.

On the contrary.

Rather, he looks as if it is slowly freezing in his veins.