he waltzed into her heart

Hands folded in her lap. Chrystal sat in a row of empty chairs at a dance studio. Why did I come without Liz? It feels awkward to be here without her. She fidgeted. Oh yes, I promised to go with her to her sorority senior ball. Even though I don’t enjoy dancing. Being her older sister comes with sacrifices. Suddenly a young man towered over her.

"Join me, please." He extended his hand.

I can hear Liz say, I dare you! Timidly, she placed her hand in his. "I don't follow well."

"I accept the challenge." The young man guided Chrystal to the dance floor. "I’m John, by the way."

Without replying, Chrystal shook her sweaty hands before posing her arms for the waltz. John held her hand, placed his right hand on her left shoulder, leaving space between them. As Chrystal placed her left hand on his upper arm, she noticed a college-age girl casually speaking to her dance partner. Her heart raced. If only I could be that relaxed. She looked away.

"You're Chrystal, right? I heard your name called when the class began." He angled his face down to hers. "You're shivering. Shall I get my jacket for you?"

"No. I mean, yes, my name is Crystal, but no, I'm not cold." It's more fun watching others dance than dancing. Standing here waiting is nerve wrecking. She straightened her back.

John repositioned his grip. The top of Chrystal’s head peaked above his shoulder. She glanced again at the college-age girl. I must relax. She exhaled. Her left elbow dropped.

Abela, the instructor, raised her elbow, repositioned Chrystal’s hand on John’s bicep and said, "Remember ladies, the left elbow is always parallel to the floor. Gentlemen, hold your partner close." Abela brought Crystal and John closer. "Don't forget, right side to right side."

I hope I won’t step on his feet too much. She sighed.

"Doesn't her Colombian accent make you want to dance the Salsa?" John shifted his feet to the dance steps.

Not really. Chrystal shifted her weight. "Be prepared. Like I said, I don't follow well."

"I heard you." John whispered to her. "It's probably because you haven't been led gently."

She pulled away slightly.

"Don’t run away." John drew her back in. "Place your feet on top of mine, feel the rhythm and trust my lead."

"You're kidding." She said, stepping back.

The music started. With his hand around her waist, John drew her closer, lifted her and stepped to the rhythm of the dance.

"What are you doing?" Her feet dangled in the air. "Put me down."

"You're light as a feather." John stayed in step with the class. "This will be fun." He held her closer. "Don't you think?"

Chrystal spoke through clenched teeth. "Put me down. Or I'll...I'll scream." She noticed a few dancers smile as they passed them. She grimaced.

"By the way, would you like to know how I got my name, John?"

"What?" Chrystal responded.

"Well, do you?"

"No, I don't care. Please put me down before I kick you." Her foot was ready for a kick but stopped. She noticed her rhythm synchronizing to John's movements. I'm moving with him. This is a first.

"Promise me you won't kick or leave me when I put you down. But do try to guess the answer to my question."

Chrystal felt crabby. "What question?"

"About my name."

"Fine. Tell me." She began to calm down as she swayed slightly to the music.

"Take a wild guess."

"You're crazy."

John responded, "You're right. Crazy is my middle name, given to me by my older brothers." Then he swiftly moved inside the dancing circle taking center stage.

"Okay, okay. I won't kick you. I'll dance with you, but you must put me down."

"You're placing your feet on mine. Right?" John didn't release her.

Chrystal snapped: "I'm not a child."

"Listen, when your feet land on mine you'll have nothing to worry about. You can focus on the rhythm."

She murmured, "fine."

John let her down. "Good. I'm glad you trust me."

The tips of her shoes rested on John's shiny black ones. She easily followed his lead. The music ended. She was about to remove her feet from John's shoes, but she froze at Abela’s command.

"Don't move. Stay where you are." Abela clapped her hands. "Great job, everyone. Gentlemen keep your lady close. We're going to practice the dance again and again. I don't want your muscles to forget what you've learned."

"It seems strange she didn’t ask us to keep our regular partner," Chrystal commented as her previous partner danced with another girl.

John lifted his eyebrows. "Well, there is always a first for everything."

"That’s for sure."

The waltz music started. Chrystal allowed her body to relax. She felt the breeze from the rise and fall movements and from the gliding of their feet. John smiled as he looked into her eyes.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Chrystal asked.

"Very much."

"Well, you're nuts."

"You sure figured that part about me." John turned swiftly making her skirt flair. "Since you're not going to guess why my name is John. I'll tell you. I was named after John the Baptist, because of how I was baptized."

"John the who?"

"I'll tell you about him when we go to dinner after our lesson." John kept pace to the music. "When I was four, I heard the preacher talk about . . ."

Going to dinner? With a stranger? I don’t think so.

"Heaven and hell. I didn't want to land in hell. I wanted to be baptized and . . ."

Hell? He’s so weird.

". . . headfirst, I was dunked in the toilet . . ."

"Wait! Did I hear you say toilet?" Chrystal interrupted.

"Yep. My mom found me with my head in the toilet. My brothers flushed it and baptized me. Soon after my baptism, they changed my name from Harold the Baby to John the Baptist."

Her feet slipped off his. She thought to place them back as the music played.

"Look at you. You're doing marvelous," John complemented her.

"Me? You're the one dancing. I'm just following."

"But I thought you said you couldn’t follow?"

"This isn't following."

"What is it then?"

"I need my feet on the floor, not on your shoes." Chrystal exclaimed.

"That's funny."

She stared at John then asked, "What's funny?"

"Your feet are on the floor." He focused on her eyes. "Wait. Don't look down. Keep your eyes on me. Believe me. I'm not lying. Keep thinking your feet are on mine and follow my lead."

Chrystal gazed at his eyes for the first time. His eyes are so honestly brown. Why do I feel lightheaded?

John's pace slowed like a carousel ride coming to an end. "You're finally relaxed. I'm glad."

"Glad?"

"Yes. You're beginning to trust me."

"I am?"

"Of course, how else would you follow my lead? Trust comes from a gentle touch. Or a lady could never truly follow."

Chrystal realized everyone had stopped dancing. "The music's over."

John came down from his dancing step. "I know." He escorted her to the edge of the dance floor as everyone clapped.

She didn't let go of his hand as Abela announced. "It's been a successful dance. Let's practice once more. Music please." Adela clapped her hands and counted, "One, two, three."

"Would you like another dance with me?" John bowed.

"I would, John -- or is it, Harold? The kid that got his head stuck in the toilet." Chrystal chuckled as they began to dance.

"It didn't get stuck. I was baptized. Make sure you get your facts straight." He drew her close. "Remember, side to side."

As the others stepped to the swing of the song, John stepped into Chrystal's heart. She searched his eyes. "You know, for a while, I thought you were a lunatic." Her neck tightened. "Hope I didn't offend you."

"I know. No offense taken." He led as if they were ice skating. "I watched your face change from being timid and fearful to concerned, then angry, then embarrassed. Now it's ending with a smile."

"You noticed all that in two dances."

"I also noticed how your beautiful hazel eyes changed color with your emotions."

"People say it's a myth about eye-color changing."

"We could discuss if this is really a myth." John had a puppy-pleading look. "Dinner? After class?"

"Food sounds good. Will you tell me more about your toilet experience?"

"I'd love to. Will you dance with me next Friday?"

Chrystal tiptoed to the music's beat, "Yes, I’ll dance with you next week." Carefree, she followed his lead. I’m glad Liz didn’t come to class tonight.