Saying Goodbye
“Johnny B. Goode” spun on the record player as Alex found an open space on the dance floor and turned to face Frankie. She had always felt confident dancing before strangers—it was her best method of self-expression—but standing before Alex, she couldn’t help believing herself a novice with two left feet. Looking at Alex, she noticed he reacted the same way. She saw him move much better in performances; now, he looked as awkward as she felt.
“Loosen up a little bit,” she said, playfully punching his chest.
Alex grabbed Frankie around her waist and moved a little faster to the music.
“See? There it is. I knew it—you have a dancer’s soul,” she said.
“Yeah, I was thinking I should give up the gee-tar and take up the ba-LET.” He gazed down at her. “What do you think?”
Frankie laughed. “It would be interesting to see you in a tutu.”
He roughly spun her around. “I never show a girl my tutu on the first date.”
Frankie purposely slammed hard up against him. “Somehow I doubt that. I think you and your tutu have made quite a few debut performances.”
As Alex danced slower, sensations ran through Frankie’s body, which she wasn’t quite ready for. She had just met him not ten minutes ago, so to offer any suggestions would be rather dangerous. The moment grew a little too intense in a room full of dancing, sweaty bodies. She pulled back from him a bit to give herself some distance. As soon as she did, the lights in the room went out, and everyone was left in darkness.
Hoots and hollers erupted from the darkness as “Under the Boardwalk” by the Drifters played. Alex pulled Frankie closer to him and held her tightly, just short of pressing too far. Alex had the play down to a science. He instinctively knew the exact limit to stir Frankie up without scaring her away. She had experienced everything from men who couldn’t entice any sensation, to those who pushed and pressed to the point of near disgust. She sensed Alex knew the perfect combination and didn’t resist.
Alex leaned toward Frankie as if to kiss her and whispered, “Do yeh want to get out of here?”
Frankie looked up at him. “Where do you want to go?”
“Outside,” he said. “It’s getting too hot in here.”
“All right,” said Frankie.
“Loosen up a little bit,” she said, playfully punching his chest.
Alex grabbed Frankie around her waist and moved a little faster to the music.
“See? There it is. I knew it—you have a dancer’s soul,” she said.
“Yeah, I was thinking I should give up the gee-tar and take up the ba-LET.” He gazed down at her. “What do you think?”
Frankie laughed. “It would be interesting to see you in a tutu.”
He roughly spun her around. “I never show a girl my tutu on the first date.”
Frankie purposely slammed hard up against him. “Somehow I doubt that. I think you and your tutu have made quite a few debut performances.”
As Alex danced slower, sensations ran through Frankie’s body, which she wasn’t quite ready for. She had just met him not ten minutes ago, so to offer any suggestions would be rather dangerous. The moment grew a little too intense in a room full of dancing, sweaty bodies. She pulled back from him a bit to give herself some distance. As soon as she did, the lights in the room went out, and everyone was left in darkness.
Hoots and hollers erupted from the darkness as “Under the Boardwalk” by the Drifters played. Alex pulled Frankie closer to him and held her tightly, just short of pressing too far. Alex had the play down to a science. He instinctively knew the exact limit to stir Frankie up without scaring her away. She had experienced everything from men who couldn’t entice any sensation, to those who pushed and pressed to the point of near disgust. She sensed Alex knew the perfect combination and didn’t resist.
Alex leaned toward Frankie as if to kiss her and whispered, “Do yeh want to get out of here?”
Frankie looked up at him. “Where do you want to go?”
“Outside,” he said. “It’s getting too hot in here.”
“All right,” said Frankie.
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