“Oh, that would explain why you’re dressed for street dance and not Ballroom,” he laughed.
“There’s a difference?” My cheeks ignited in embarrassment at my latest faux pas and I closed my eyes, wanting to be anywhere else, but here.
“Leggings and a t-shirt would have sufficed, but if you’re comfortable in sweats, that’s cool. I just want you to be at ease here, I never want my students to feel out of place or feel like they can’t do this.”
It was at this point that I suddenly realized how quiet the studio was. I glanced around casually and noticed there was no one else here. Where’s Jared? He said he took Ballroom. I cleared my throat and screwed the top back on the bottle. “Is everyone else late too?” I asked.
I heard him chuckle then sigh. “No, they are next door with Petra. After yesterday’s brief meeting and seeing how uncomfortable you were I thought it would be beneficial for you to have your first lesson on a one-on-one basis. Maybe get your nerves out of the way, teach you the hold, some basic steps and then you’ll know what to expect by the time your next lesson comes around,” he replied.
He held his hand out to me and I glanced at it unsure if I should take it. Then I thought about how he’d gone out of his way to make me feel comfortable on my first lesson. I raised my hand and allowed him to pull me to my feet.
“Do you have a hair tie?” He asked as I drew level to meet his twinkling dark eyes. I shifted my gaze to my feet and shook my head.
He walked towards the table, my eyes instantly raised to follow him. “I have one here, in future I advise you tie it up, long hair is a safety risk when dancing,” he said and handed me the bright pink hair tie. Nodd
ing, I took it and leant forward, my hands swept through my thick mane and gathered it in one hand before securing it into a top knot.
“Better?” I asked, bringing myself upright. A tingling sensation ran up my spine when I took in his look. His eyes were poised on my neck, the tip of his tongue peeking out from between his lips, his Adams apple jutted up and down like he was swallowing hard or pushing something back down inside of himself. My hand flew to my neck. I tried to think if there was some conspicuous mark there that shouldn’t be. He closed his eyes and turned away when my hand blocked his view.
“Show me your frame,” he said. He took a step back and asserted himself to the task at hand.
I pushed my feet together, straightened my back and held up my right arm bent at the elbow and shoved my left elbow out to the side like I’d seen in the movies. Nikoli smirked then came towards me, he pushed his fingers up under my elbow, it moved with ease. “Your frame needs to remain firm, resist my push.”
He pushed again, this time I kept my arm rigid and pushed against him. He smiled then moved behind me, my head instantly tried to follow him, “Eyes to the front, Myshka.” His hands gently turned my head back to face the window. “You’ll probably tire of hearing me talk about the dance hold, but good dancing begins with the correct hold,” he said from behind me. I could feel the warmth of his breath hit the back of my neck and I shuddered slightly.
He was in front of me again and stepped closer, my chest was inches away from him and suddenly, I felt nervous. I felt my arms begin to sag and chewed on my bottom lip. “Hold your frame,” he ordered, his hands gently rested under my arms and pushed them back up. “In a closed dance hold, you will be positioned slightly to the right of your partner, and your feet slightly offset, so that the right foot of either of you can step between the other’s feet, it prevents you from knocking knees together.” He dropped from my eye line and moved my feet to the correct position.
As I caught my breath, he was back in view with a lazy smile then he stepped into me. “The man’s left hand goes to the lady’s right hand, palm to palm in an upper-hand clasp, with fingers and thumbs closed around each other’s, do not point any of your fingers.” His hand slid in to mine and our fingers curled around each other’s.
“My right hand is loosely cupped and sits on your shoulder blade, my wrist contacts your underarm at the junction of your arm and body.” I felt his palm slowly move across my back to my shoulder blade and I noticed goosebumps coat the surface of my arms. “Your left hand and forearm sit on my upper arm, resting on where the seam of a shirt would be.”
I repositioned my hand as per his instructions and he smiled in encouragement. “The right half of the man’s front sits with the right half of the lady’s front, the connection between us begins at the upper thighs and should continue through the diaphragm,” he whispered. His thigh met mine and it was all I could do not push myself closer.
My body heat increased when his eyes wandered to my neck again and lingered there. “Perfect,” he said then dropped his frame and moved away from me. I stared after him wide- eyed and confused by the way my body had so easily responded to him.
“So, how long have you been married?” He asked throwing me off-kilter at his nosiness.
“Two years,” I mumbled uncomfortably. I didn’t want to talk about Max or my marriage with a stranger and especially not with him.
“He’s a lucky man,” he said with a smile. He sucked back the water from his bottle, with his right hand sat loosely on his hip. He looked like one of those models from a TV advert for bottled water and I suppressed a small chuckle that was swirling its way through me.
“He doesn’t think so,” I whispered to myself. I hadn’t said it quietly enough and I caught Nikoli’s head swivel in my direction.
“He’s a fool then, Myshka!”
Why does he keep calling me that? I must google the term. “With all due respect, I’m here to learn Ballroom, not talk about my husband,” I snapped, then I winced when my head shrunk into my shoulders at my outburst.
“I’m sorry, I was just trying to be friendly,” he griped. I pulled my lips into a firm, thin line, and broke eye contact with him.
“Frame!” He ordered sharply, causing me to jump as his loud voice bounced from the silent studio walls. Quickly I pulled my arms up and positioned my feet as he had shown me, then I waited for his approval, but it didn’t come. He merely stepped back into me and took up his own frame.
“Next lesson, I’ll talk you through the terms of top line, the midline, and the front line. Now we have your frame sorted, next is your head. I look over your right shoulder and you look over mine. The only rule to follow here is that your nose should follow your toes.” I poised my head while he spoke and looked over his right shoulder.
“You must maintain your frame at all times, tone must be kept in the arms and all connection points must stay intact. If you let your frame collapse, turns are difficult to lead and partner dancing becomes impossible. I don’t want to see you with noodle arm. Practice this frame at home as much as possible, because believe me, your arms will ache like a bitch if you don’t.”
“I didn’t realize it was so technical,” I mumbled.
He smiled and raised his eyebrows, “Ballroom is definitely technical. Latin would have been easier for you to learn providing you have a sense of rhythm.”