Something She Can Feel

As we embraced I could smell alcohol on her breath, but when I backed up and looked into her eyes, I could see that she wasn’t drunk. Just a little tipsy. She was wearing dark-colored skinny jeans and a form-fitting T-shirt. Her hair was loose and wild, hanging in tendrils down her back. She looked more like a student than a teacher. More like a carefree girl in a nightclub than a sophisticated lady from New York City.

“Richard has been dragging me to this place almost every night since I got here.” She giggled like a little girl. “I love it. Makes me feel bad, especially when we get home. Why don’t you come have a drink with us?”

“I’m actually leaving now.” I pushed my shirt back into my skirt.

“Oh.” She stepped back and looked me over as if she was noticing something. “I didn’t see ...” she started slowly.

“Evan’s not with me. I’m here for ... some work thing.”

“I see.” She looked at me. And without saying a word, it was clear that neither of us needed to say anything else. I hated this gag, how it cloaked my goings-on in a shroud of guilt, but it was what I needed to stop Kayla from pushing.

Another pair came into the bathroom. Their clanking bracelets and laughter broke the silence.

“I’ll see you in school tomorrow,” Kayla said earnestly.

I just nodded and returned to the maze of the gyrating crowd. The music was different now. It was slow oldies and the couples were closer and some were even standing still in an embrace. I wormed my way through, trying to get out of there. I had to get home.

When I neared the edge of the dance floor, I didn’t see Dame standing in the same spot where I’d left him sipping on his third beer.

“Shit,” I cursed and looked along all of the crowds lining the rest of the short bar.

“Looking for me?” I heard over my shoulder.

I turned and right in front of me, close enough to kiss me, was Dame. I could smell him, feel his presence swallowing up my space, and as I took a deep breath to settle myself, I felt his breath come into mine. I flinched and forced myself to stand erect.

“Yes, I was looking for you,” I stuttered, suddenly feeling all at once the reason I hadn’t called Evan at home. I didn’t need to be there, but I wanted to. “I need to go home,” I said. And I knew it sounded slight. I didn’t even believe it.

“I want to dance with you,” he said.

“I can’t,” I whispered.

“Ain’t nobody here watching us.”

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I looked back toward the bathroom door. It was ridiculous that I was even considering dancing with him.

“I just can’t.”

“Come on,” he begged. “One dance and then I’ll take you right back to your car at the school.” He pushed his face into the mass of curls now crowding the front of my ears and whispered softly, “You ain’t gonna make a brother beg, right?”

Whenever I’m nervous or afraid, I feel a need to swallow the saliva gathering at the back of my throat. While I suppose it just goes down easily other times, whenever I’m afraid or nervous, it goes down in an audible swallow that I’d prefer to hide.

Just as I did when Dame walked into the school, I couldn’t hide that swallow now on the dance floor. His words, his breath, sent tingles around the back of my ears and I went quickly from being afraid of Dame’s closeness to being afraid of what I’d do.

I didn’t even say anything. Neither of us did. Dame just pushed his arms around my waist and we moved in a difficult closeness to the slow beat. Playing was this old Prince single I used to like to hear when they played slow songs at night on the radio when I was young. “Adore.”

The hypnotic, raunchy beat, Prince’s arrestingly sensuous voice, the words, all engaged inside of me, plucking each of the bones up my spine until I unfolded into Dame’s chest.

I’ll give you my heart.

I’ll give you my mind.

I’ll give you my body.

I’ll give you my time.

Prince crooned and I believed him. He was sexy and strong, whispering and just nearly screaming the most intimate needs I felt deep inside. I could feel my heart racing down in my stomach. I wanted to move, but this was the closest I’d felt to music in so long. I needed it. This honesty. It was controlling me. Reminding me of what music could do. And it wasn’t even about Dame. It was about being there and hearing the sound of emotion coming from someone else.