Tonio said she was upstairs, so I took the steps two at a time and found myself outside of my bedroom. It felt weird to knock on my own door, but I couldn’t just barge in there.
“Just a moment,” Emma said, but then took her sweet time before opening the door. Maybe the basketball game had gotten her in the mood for a little time alone? But when she opened the door, she was properly dressed and the bed was made. Her face did look a little flushed, however.
“Can I come in?”
“Of course.” She stepped back, and my eyes flashed over the scoop-neck blouse she’d changed into. She had such a lovely peaches and cream complexion. I wondered if her skin was that soft and supple everywhere.
“I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Sure.” She smiled, her lips a dusty shade of rose. Since there was only one chair in the room—the one at the desk—I gestured for her to take it, and I sat on the edge of the bed, resting my hands on my thighs.
“I’ve been thinking about that time you danced with me at the gym.”
“Me too,” she admitted and then blushed.
I grinned, wondering if she’d thought about it while lying in this very bed at night. “I have fond memories of it too, but I’ve also been thinking about what it might mean in terms of my dream of being a dance instructor.”
She frowned and crossed her legs, momentarily distracting me. “What do you mean? I thought you said there weren’t any classes for you to teach.”
“There aren’t, but that’s partly what the YouTube channel is for. To put some content out there. It’s a bit like an online resume so that I’ll have something to show if the right opportunity ever comes up.”
Emma’s eyes flickered to the desk where her laptop sat. “I saw your stuff. It’s really good.”
“Thanks. Want to help me make it better?”
She blinked in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“In those videos, I show how to do various dance moves. But it’s not really teaching, it’s more of a demonstration. The only time in recent memory that I actually taught someone dance moves was with you.”
“Okay…?” She didn’t seem sure where I was going with this.
“I’d like you to do some videos with me, so I can show what kind of teacher I am.”
Her mouth dropped open, her cute pink tongue visible. Then she audibly gulped. “You want me to be in a dance video?”
“Yes. If you’re willing.”
“But… but I can’t dance.”
I smiled. “That’s why you’d be the student, and I’d be the teacher.”
She stood up, absently glancing out the window before looking back at me. “You want to put videos of you and me dancing together on YouTube?”
“Yes, if you’re okay with it.” Inspiration struck. “I could pay you. That might help tide you over until you find a job.”
She waved that aside. “That’s ridiculous, I’m living in your room rent-free. I don’t need payment.” She sat abruptly and scooted her chair forward, our knees almost touching. “You don’t want me in those videos.”
I cocked my head to the side as if puzzled. “Then why’d I ask you?”
“I don’t know.” She frowned. “Wouldn’t the videos work better if you found a woman with dance experience? There’s got to be a ton of women at the gym who can dance.”
“So in other words, I’d post videos of me teaching dancing to someone who already knows how? That doesn’t sound much like teaching to me.”
Emma nodded, conceding the point. “I just don’t think having me in your videos is going to help you find the kind of teaching position you’re looking for.”
“Honestly, it’s a bit of a long shot anyway. As I said, those kinds of jobs are few and far between, especially for men. But those videos aren’t just about that. They’re also designed to help people learn how to move their bodies in ways that make them feel good. And what better way to learn that than to see me actually teaching someone something new—rather than see someone pretending to learn.”
“I guess that makes sense.” She still looked troubled, though.
“It’s just an idea. Don’t do it if you don’t want to. I know some people don’t like to be on the internet.”
She looked up at me, her hazel eyes bright. “I’ll do it.”
“Really? You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent! Thank you.”
“But if you don’t think it’s working, and you don’t think the videos are good enough to—”
“Stop. You don’t have to add disclaimers all the time. We’re friends. We can talk to each other about anything.”
“Really?”
“Of course.” I started to stand, but she grabbed my hand and pulled me back down.
“I’m glad you said that, because I actually have something I’ve been wanting to ask you, too.”
“Fire away.” Her face tilted downward, as if suddenly interested in something on the carpet. “What is it, Emma?”