badly fitting suits slumped in misery toward the front door.
“It could be worse,” Sully said. “We could be dead.”
“We could all just not go,” Eli suggested. “Who’d know?”
“Okay,” said a familiar, tough voice from behind. “You guysgoing in or what? ’Cause the sooner we get started, the sooner it’s going to be over. Those were Aunt Peach’s parting words to me.”
Tree turned around, and there was Sophie looking very pretty in a purple dress, her hair done up in a barrette, and her black eyes flashing total attitude, which is exactly what you’d want in a dance partner.
Coach Glummer’s cousin Sheila looked at the eighty-seven seventh- and eighth-graders assembled in the gym of the YMCA. Her teacher’s heart fluttered with care for her students. She wanted to become a trusted person in their lives, a teacher not just of the fox trot, the waltz, and the tango, but a role model of enduring memory.
But Sheila knew that eighty-seven seventh- and eighth-graders could turn on her at any moment. So she stood on center court and shouted, “I’m the law in this room. That means what I say goes. If you disobey, you’re out, and I keep your parents’ money.
Do we understand each other?
”
Eighty-seven heads nodded grimly.
“Ballroom dancing can be one of the most fun things you’ll ever do. For that to happen, you have to listen like your life depended on it. Are you still with me?”
They were.
“We begin dancing like we begin most new things—by taking a risk. I’m going to demonstrate a simple step that will get you through most wedding receptions. This is as easy as life gets. Watch.
Right foot forward, left foot matches, right moves back and left detaches.
You try.”
The Fighting Pit Bulls looked at one another glumly. Tree glanced over at Sophie, who was looking at the ceiling.
“
Right foot forward, left foot matches. Right moves back and left detaches.
”
No one got it right.
They moved into dance circles. Sheila’s Romanian dance partner, Lazar, who swayed constantly even when there wasn’t music playing, worked with the boys.
“Okay now, young mens.” Lazar tossed his head, swaying. “I’m gonna teach you how, you know, to go with it.”
Lazar did a few slow steps. “You see from that? You see to just move and go with it? Okay, mens, let’s slide.”
The Pit Bulls were particularly bad at sliding.
The evening went downhill. Sully and Eli were sticking their fingers down their throats, pretending to vomit.
“We’re going to put some of these steps together.”
Partner time. The popular boys raced for Amber and her friends.
Sully said he was sick.
Eli said he had to get a bucket for Sully.
Tree hoped that dancing with someone would be better than dancing alone.
He walked slowly up to Sophie, who was studying the floor.
Cleared his throat.
Waited.
She looked up. “
Well?
”
“I’m here,” Tree said.
“
And?
”
“I was going to ask you to, you know . . .” He looked around. “Dance.”
“You need to say the words. Would you like to dance?”
“I would,” Tree said.
“
No
—you ask
me.
”
“Right. Would you . . . like to dance?”
She took his hand, smiled bright. “I’d be delighted—and I’m not just saying that.”
They walked onto the middle of the floor. Tree was absolutely the tallest person in the room. Lazar and Coach Glummer’s cousin Sheila locked into position, which seemed easier for shorter people.
“Good posture,” shouted Sheila. “If you get lost, just watch me and Lazar.”
Tree bent down to reach Sophie’s waist. Her head came up to his chest. He took her hand gently; didn’t want to squish it. He wasn’t sure his left foot could detach at this angle.
He could either dance or have good posture—not both.
Sophie laughed. She had a good laugh. Solid, not tinkling. “You look like you’re at a funeral.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Aunt Peach dragged me here by my nose hairs, but it’s not
“It could be worse,” Sully said. “We could be dead.”
“We could all just not go,” Eli suggested. “Who’d know?”
“Okay,” said a familiar, tough voice from behind. “You guysgoing in or what? ’Cause the sooner we get started, the sooner it’s going to be over. Those were Aunt Peach’s parting words to me.”
Tree turned around, and there was Sophie looking very pretty in a purple dress, her hair done up in a barrette, and her black eyes flashing total attitude, which is exactly what you’d want in a dance partner.
Coach Glummer’s cousin Sheila looked at the eighty-seven seventh- and eighth-graders assembled in the gym of the YMCA. Her teacher’s heart fluttered with care for her students. She wanted to become a trusted person in their lives, a teacher not just of the fox trot, the waltz, and the tango, but a role model of enduring memory.
But Sheila knew that eighty-seven seventh- and eighth-graders could turn on her at any moment. So she stood on center court and shouted, “I’m the law in this room. That means what I say goes. If you disobey, you’re out, and I keep your parents’ money.
Do we understand each other?
”
Eighty-seven heads nodded grimly.
“Ballroom dancing can be one of the most fun things you’ll ever do. For that to happen, you have to listen like your life depended on it. Are you still with me?”
They were.
“We begin dancing like we begin most new things—by taking a risk. I’m going to demonstrate a simple step that will get you through most wedding receptions. This is as easy as life gets. Watch.
Right foot forward, left foot matches, right moves back and left detaches.
You try.”
The Fighting Pit Bulls looked at one another glumly. Tree glanced over at Sophie, who was looking at the ceiling.
“
Right foot forward, left foot matches. Right moves back and left detaches.
”
No one got it right.
They moved into dance circles. Sheila’s Romanian dance partner, Lazar, who swayed constantly even when there wasn’t music playing, worked with the boys.
“Okay now, young mens.” Lazar tossed his head, swaying. “I’m gonna teach you how, you know, to go with it.”
Lazar did a few slow steps. “You see from that? You see to just move and go with it? Okay, mens, let’s slide.”
The Pit Bulls were particularly bad at sliding.
The evening went downhill. Sully and Eli were sticking their fingers down their throats, pretending to vomit.
“We’re going to put some of these steps together.”
Partner time. The popular boys raced for Amber and her friends.
Sully said he was sick.
Eli said he had to get a bucket for Sully.
Tree hoped that dancing with someone would be better than dancing alone.
He walked slowly up to Sophie, who was studying the floor.
Cleared his throat.
Waited.
She looked up. “
Well?
”
“I’m here,” Tree said.
“
And?
”
“I was going to ask you to, you know . . .” He looked around. “Dance.”
“You need to say the words. Would you like to dance?”
“I would,” Tree said.
“
No
—you ask
me.
”
“Right. Would you . . . like to dance?”
She took his hand, smiled bright. “I’d be delighted—and I’m not just saying that.”
They walked onto the middle of the floor. Tree was absolutely the tallest person in the room. Lazar and Coach Glummer’s cousin Sheila locked into position, which seemed easier for shorter people.
“Good posture,” shouted Sheila. “If you get lost, just watch me and Lazar.”
Tree bent down to reach Sophie’s waist. Her head came up to his chest. He took her hand gently; didn’t want to squish it. He wasn’t sure his left foot could detach at this angle.
He could either dance or have good posture—not both.
Sophie laughed. She had a good laugh. Solid, not tinkling. “You look like you’re at a funeral.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Aunt Peach dragged me here by my nose hairs, but it’s not
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