I followed him with my eyes, confused and fascinated; what the hell was he doing?

It looked oddly familiar–

The choreography. The steps! The last sequence.

Some invisible, rusty switch finally clicked in my head and I automatically followed along. Once the block was down, the rest of the moves simply flowed into my mind. I remembered it all, and I completed the song with ease.

When it was over, I turned to see Nate. He beamed with clear pride and gave me a thumbs up from his seat.

I was physically unable to do anything but stare at this amazing creature before me. He knew the routine by heart. And he moved with such elegance, not unlike his professional cousin. 

When we were kids, Nate used to help me practice. We hadn’t danced ever since; when I began having trouble with my classes, I had refused to bring that baggage into our relationship. I didn’t want to get frustrated with myself and end up snapping at him. What had just happened, even though simple and inconsequential for him, was an emotional shock for me. He was there for me in so many ways, so many levels, most of them unbeknownst to him even. My wonderful, ever-surprising boy.

Lex returned, looking tired. He threw the cell phone at Nate.

“Whoa. Tough talk? How’s Dina doing?” Nate asked, catching the phone in the air. 

“Freaking out as usual. I tell you, man, I’m grateful we live 6 thousand miles apart.”

Nate laughed, shaking his head. Lex and his mother had never had an easy relationship. They were too similar and clashed constantly. That, and the little detail that whatever illusion of harmony they could muster completely imploded when he came out as bisexual. It was one of the reasons why it was universally decided that it would be in everyone’s best interests for Lex to go back to his father in the US. Even today, eleven years later, she was still hoping he’d “get over that phase.”

“Anyway. Eli, did you finish the sequence on your own?”

I nodded. Nate winked at me.

“Great job. Now, one more time, from the top!”

We managed to complete the song four more times before our time was up. Lex was optimistic about our chances in the competition. He only wished we could spark up our chemistry a little bit, to better sell the sensual story we were trying to tell, but we both agreed that we couldn’t sex it up any more than that. It was like trying to seduce your grandma.

It was the last class of the day and we were sweaty as pigs, so Lex and I took a quick shower and met Nathan in the Sports Center’s cafeteria. 

“All freshened up?” asked Nate when we arrived, without looking up from his phone. He was still texting, and he had been for a while, by the looks of it. His poppy seed bagel laid unfinished on its plate. He usually inhaled four or five of those in less than 15 minutes.

“Yeah. I really needed that shower, but I forgot my scrunchy. My hair’s gonna go ballistic in about five minutes”

“Here, man. Take my hair tie. I’m going to Lizzy’s anyway, I’ll borrow one from her.”

When he heard the name, Nate finally put his phone down. I smirked. I knew what was coming.

“Oh. So you have another imaginary date with the imaginary girl today?”

Lex frowned instantly. 

“I can’t take your hair tie now, you need to look your best! Ghost girls are quite picky, I hear.”

“Cut it out! She’s real, you annoying fuckers. I have pictures–”

“Yeah, you also have a very functional pirated Photoshop app on your laptop,” said Nate.

“And a powerful imagination,” I added.

He scoffed and began cursing us in Spanish. 

Lex had spent the last eight years speaking non-stop about this Lizzy girl, who he claimed was his best friend and the woman of his dreams, and yet, it had been impossible to even catch a glimpse of her in real life. She allegedly helped him teach some of his couple’s dancing classes but we had never spotted her, even though I took my own classes there and Nate had his biweekly basketball practice. He claimed she was exceptionally shy and hated taking pictures, but we had begun to consider her as an imaginary friend of sorts. Lex getting all worked up when we teased him like that didn’t help his cause.

“Okay, that’s it. Eli, I’m changing your next class. You’re both coming next Tuesday at 6.”

“I can’t, Lex, I get off work at six.”

“Ask to leave early, Eli,” he barked. “You and your groupie here will come as visitors to my last couple’s class of the day, and you will meet Lizzy.”

Nate raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to complain. 

“Don’t!” interrupted Lex, pointing a finger at him. “You brought this upon yourself. Both you and Lizzy will bottle up your social anxiety and come meet each other. It’s time. I can’t take your crap anymore, assholes.”

“Fine, fine, but I’ll have to ask Mr. Grumbles if he’s free next Tuesday on such short notice,” I groaned. “He has a very busy schedule, you know.”

“Who the fuck is Mr. Grumbles?”

“My childhood imaginary friend, you can’t expect me to go stag to your make-believe party right?”

He snatched the hair tie from my hand.

“That’s it. You’ve lost your hair tie privileges. You. And you,” he added, pointing at Nate. “Tuesday, 6 sharp. Don’t make me go get you myself.”

He stomped away, dramatically tying his long hair in an endless ponytail.

“Aw, man, I don’t wanna meet people,” Nate grumbled, munching on his forgotten bagel with a long face.

“You’re not meeting anybody, for the girl does not exist,” I declared, sitting next to him. I saw my shadow on the table. My hair was starting to go bananas. Dammit, Lex.

“So, you have plans for the rest of the day?” I asked, wishing to keep him around for a little longer.

“Actually, I kind of do,” he answered, instantly crushing my hopes. “I’m supposed to meet Amanda for lunch in a few.”

Oh, that explained the abandoned bagel.

“Oh, I see. Well, I’ll get going before my head turns into a crow’s nest.”

“You could join us,” he added, immediately. 

I stared at him, taken aback. He was not merely inviting me. He was pleading. 

“Uhm, Natei, I… are you sure that’s okay? Have you asked Amanda?” I wondered, trying to win some time to devise a respectable excuse to bail. Not that I actually needed one, I was not oblivious to how inappropriate my presence would be in the kind of lunch I suspect they were having. But he was so obviously uncomfortable that I couldn’t simply abandon him like that.

Amanda would hate me. Oh, well. It was not a bad thing if she took out her frustrations on me. That would leave her more relaxed to actually have whatever talk she needed to put Nathan through.

“She won’t mind, she’s cool, and she likes you,” he beamed.

Ha! Yeah, she freaking adores me. I hesitated and ran my hand through my hair. My fingers got stuck. I sighed and pulled a few hairs trying to untangle them.

“Fine. Where are you guys meeting?”

“This nice diner about six blocks away from here, right by Dixton Park. We’ll be there in no time.”

Oh. My friend Dana lived around the corner from Dixton Park. I decided to text him once we were on our way. It couldn’t hurt to have an honorable exit plan ready if all went south.

The walk there seemed eternal. I was tired from class, wary of Amanda’s reaction, and in no shape to partake in any kind of lunch. I was wearing tights and my favorite hoodie, an oversized relic that Nathan had worn out to its limits in high school and then gifted to me once he graduated. I could feel my curls rising from my skull like a murderous bunch of sentient Medusa snakes. I have always been extremely self-conscious of my appearance, and my current looks were not doing much to improve my mood.

Once we got to the diner, we spent a long couple of minutes looking for Amanda. The place was crowded, and I noticed people discreetly staring. We were a peculiar pair; a huge, dark, handsome dude and a shaggy ginger leprechaun. She spotted us first. Or at least, she spotted him.

“Nathan! Here!”

We made our way to her with some difficulty. The tables were so close to each other there was no room for us both in the corridors between them. I had to walk behind Nate. I hated it. I would have to spring from behind him like a very awkward jack-in-the-box.

Amanda’s glowing smile faded instantly when she spotted me.

“Hey, Amanda, thank you for having me,” I tried, smiling as authentically as possible.

“Eli. I didn’t know you were coming,” she answered, not even trying to hide her discomfort. I felt like murdering Nate on the spot.

“I invited him,” he said, nonchalantly. He sat down and took a menu. “Do they serve pasta here? I’ve been craving pasta all week.”

To make things worse, there was no seat for me. The table had obviously been a two-person reservation, and the diner was at capacity. Amanda called the nearest waiter and asked for an extra chair. The guy was even less thrilled than I was. He coldly asked me to wait a few minutes while he went to fetch a chair from the kitchen. Nate got up and offered me his seat, but I awkwardly refused, so he just stayed up next to me, still checking the menu.  People stared. I was so mortified I could have run away right then and there. 

I nervously tugged my hair. It was so frizzy I resisted the urge to go to the bathroom to wet it, because I just couldn’t deal with a mirror.

Amanda noticed my fretting and hid a smirk behind her hand. Rather poorly, I have to say. Almost intentionally poorly.

“Eli, I have a hair clip, if you want,” she offered, producing one from her purse. It was bright pink with glittery flowers. I didn’t care, I took it. Anything would help at this terminal stage. “What’s with your hair, anyway? Did you guys run here or something?”

I clenched my teeth. Bear with it. You deserve it. Bear with it.

“Oh, no, it’s just… Uhm. I had a dance class this morning, and I took a shower afterward. Didn’t have time to fix this,” I said, pointing at my head, trying to laugh about it even though I felt more like crying. 

“You look fine, man. The waiter sure’s taking long with that chair,” intervened Nathan, looking slightly upset. She ignored him and doubled the bet.

“Oh, I see. That explains the tatty hoodie too,” she said, with a smug smile. I felt a knot of anger growing in my chest. The embarrassment, her taunting, the sheer awkwardness, and the ugly feeling of deserved humiliation, the whole situation triggered me. I snapped.

“Oh, yeah, this poor old thing is on the verge of disintegration all right,” I laughed, patting the hoodie. “But I can’t help but love it. It’s like an heirloom. It was Natei’s favorite hoodie, you know? He gave it to me when he graduated high school.”

I smiled widely at her and assessed the impact. It was a clear bullseye. Her smirky smile weakened. I felt the well-known rush of adrenaline. I couldn’t stop.

“No need to explain, though. I mean, after four months together I bet you must have dozens of your own, right?” I laughed without sentiment. “All girlfriends do.”

I had expected her to put up a fight and come back at me, but she simply… gave up. She looked down and grabbed the menu.

“Not all girlfriends,” she said, quietly.

I couldn’t have cooled down faster if a bucket of ice had splashed my head at that very second. I felt like crap, like I always had when I allowed myself to lose all sense of empathy just to win one of those ugly verbal battles.

Nate looked at me, in silence. He was not angry, nor reproachful; he was just sad.

He mouthed, “Sorry.”

Why? Why was he always so quick to take responsibility for everything? The knot of anger in my chest mutated into a knot of anguish in my stomach. I had to get out of there.

I took my phone and I quickly pressed Send to the message I had left written just in case. It only took a second. It looked as if I was checking the time.

My phone rang almost instantly, just when the waiter finally showed up with my ill-fated chair.

“Hello? Hey, Dana. Ah? Oh! Dude, I’m so sorry, I completely forgot! I’ll be there in a few. Yes. Sorry.”

I hung up and smiled at them. The smile was fake. The guilt was real.

“I’m so, so sorry, guys, but I have to bail. I forgot I had a lunch date with my friend Dana today.”

Amanda just nodded, eyes still fixed on the menu. Nate, on the other hand, was confused.

“Who’s Dana?” he asked, bewildered.

“Oh, you know, Dana. We work together, he’s a junior in my department. I’m helping him with his thesis and I promised we’d go through his last notes over lunch today.”

“Why?” he asked, eyes wide open. Jesus, Nathan, just let me go already!

“Why? Well, he chose the same major I did and I’m specialized in the field he–”

"No, I mean… Why haven’t I heard of this guy before.”

Was he serious? Amanda looked up. I was sweating buckets and the waiter asked us again if we needed the chair or not.

“You have, Natei. He actually went to the same high school we did. You just have a very selective memory,” I said, trying to make it sound like a joke and failing miserably. “Now, I better be going. Oh, Amanda, here. Thank you,” I added, giving her the hair clip back.

“It’s okay, keep it. You need it more than I do. Goodbye, Elias.”

I flinched. Nathan flinched too. We both stared at her in silence. She stared back, confused.

“What?” she said, raising both eyebrows.

“Oh, please, you…” I held back. It was pointless to make it worse. She probably didn’t even know what that name meant to me. That irked me the most. With that last shot, she had won. Without even trying to be a bitch, she had won. And I deserved to feel like the asshole I was.

“Please, just call me Eli,” I said, with a weak smile. “All my friends do. See ya later, enjoy your lunch!”

I didn’t wait for any of them to add another word. I turned and left, as fast as I could.

I rushed to Dana’s. I needed to bitch and vent. I was on the verge of tears again. 

I rang the bell so hard the button got stuck. It was one of those strident, never-ending doorbells, and Dana did not come to the door right away. A neighbor screamed for it to stop. I was desperately trying to detach it when Dana opened the door, gently pushed me away, and fixed the darn thing with a quick punch on the wall. The noise stopped. I felt exhausted.

“Whoa, look at that face. You were not kidding about the bitch and vent part, uh?” he said, with one of his sardonic, toothy smiles. “Nice hair clip, by the way.”

I groaned and walked in, ripping the thing from my hair.

“By all means, come in,” chuckled Dana, closing the door after me. “You know the way, handsome.”