Chapter 27
I was on my second soda. At least three guys had approached me in a span of thirty minutes, offering a hand to lead me onto the dance floor. Each time, I stared at my glass and shook my head “no,” with a polite smile. Eventually they skulked away. Though part of me wanted to take them up on their offers, I just couldn’t pry myself from the bar stool I now occupied.
I tried to study the choreography of the women twirling on the floor. I knew flip-flops weren’t exactly the correct footwear for spinning, kicking and swaying, but I still thought I might be able to pick up the moves. After a decade of pirouettes, allegros and fouettés, I figured I should be able to morph enough of that training to mimic the dance of salsa. Plus, I was incredibly flexible and I had always been noted for my superior elevation, though I doubted jumps would come into play much in a scene like this.
But it wasn’t really the dancing that was causing my trepidation. It was the men.
I had thought guys from Philly were supposed to be arrogant and aggressive, but from what I’d seen of Puerto Rican guys so far, they definitely took the prize in those categories. Back home, if I caught the eye of a guy my age, he’d probably send a friend to scope me out and see if I were interested. He’d dance several feet away and slowly move in. Here, the guys approached with unwavering confidence. They whispered in my ear before even catching my name. And from what I could see on the floor, most felt free to place their hands on your butt and their mouths on your neck. I couldn’t picture myself welcoming all of that uninvited touching.
“Hey! You’re still here!” Lilly called, surfacing from the dense crowd with about a dozen guys tailing her.
She might as well have been walking in slow motion to a Celine Dion song, the devotion was so obvious. I imagined little red hearts oozing from the tips of their heads as they gazed at her, touched her and called her name for attention.
“Hey,” I muttered, tilting my head.
“Guys, this is Mariana. My cousin from the States. She’s Vince’s sister,” Lilly explained, pointing to my brother who was grinding against a busty blonde on the dance floor.
“Don’t worry. Everyone speaks English,” she whispered to me.
I flipped my wrist slightly. “Um, hi.”
“¡Ay Dios mío! Lilly, she looks just like you,” cried a guy in black pants and a tight blue shirt.
The crowd around him looked at me from head to toe.
“She could be your sister,” he added.
“Sí,” they chimed in unison, nodding.
All but one.
“Nah, I don’t think so. She’s definitely got her own look,” whispered Lilly’s escort as he came into view, his dimples flashing.
He delicately grabbed my hand and his straight black hair dripped onto his forehead as our eyes locked. He leaned down and pressed his mouth to the back of my hand. No one had ever kissed my hand before. I thought that gesture went out with the Victorian era, but ancient or not, it still made my stomach flutter.
“I’m Alex,” he stated with a soft Spanish accent.
“I’m Mariana.”
“I know.” He smirked, not letting go of my hand. “Nice to finally meet you.”
I smiled blankly, unable to think of anything to say.
“So, how long will you be visiting?” he asked, rupturing the silence.
“Um, uh, for another few weeks,” I stuttered, swallowing hard.
“Well, good.We’ll have to show you a good time.”
He was looking at me with such unbroken intensity that I turned away. In all of two seconds, he had made me nervous. But when I glanced back, I was happy to see his eyes still fixed on me.
“Mariana!” Lilly cried, snatching my hand from his. “I see you’ve met Alex.” She giggled. “He’s my escort for the evening, as you know. And these are some of my other friends from Utuado. I’d tell you all of their names but you’ll probably just forget them anyhow. They’re all very cool and very excited to teach you how to salsa dance.”
“What?” I gasped, my mouth swung open.
From the eager looks these guys were giving me, I feared they’d devour me whole just to impress my cousin.
“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun!” Lilly pushed me toward a Latino giant, at least 6 foot 4, with a shaved head and orange shirt opened at the top three buttons.
“Wanna dance?” he asked, grabbing my waist.
“Um, Lilly?” I whimpered, but she was already basking in the attention of another “friend.”
“I’m Ricky,” he stated, pulling my hips.
“Um, look, I don’t know about this . . .”
Ricky fastened an arm around my lower back and half-pushed, half-dragged me onto the dance floor. I looked back desperately and caught a glimpse of Alex staring at me. I grinned and mouthed “help” with my most pathetic expression. He burst into laughter.
Through no effort on my part, Ricky and I inserted ourselves onto the congested floor. He quickly clasped my right hand, his palm spreading a clammy film. I wanted to pull away, but before I could, he yanked me close and guided my hips with his clenched grip. I strained my neck to look up at him—he was almost a foot taller than I was—as he poorly attempted to lead. Though I had never danced salsa before, I had danced with partners. And Ricky wasn’t very good. His rhythm felt off and he couldn’t turn me and bring me back to the flow of the music. I tripped on my flip-flops as he flung me around and then stomped on my bare toe with his hard black dress shoe.
The couples around us were nudging us out of their way. They were all clearly more skilled and thus felt entitled to more dance space. I was more than happy to give it. Thankfully, the flashy, seven-piece brass band concluded its number and I smiled at Ricky, assuming our uncomfortable moment was over. It wasn’t. And the minute I heard the lead singer’s voice croon out in a soft melody, I nearly gagged on my saliva. Ricky tugged me toward him and slid his moist hands onto my lower back. He reeked of beer, and I instinctively flinched back.
“Ah, don’t be shy, chica,” he whispered, his breath assaulting my nostrils. “So, do you like it here? In Puerrrto Rrrico?” He slowly rolled his “Rs” to mimic some sort of Latin lover.
“You know, it was really nice of you to dance with me, but—”
“You don’t have to thank me,” he purred, as he thrust his hips toward mine to close the space between us.
I placed my hand on his chest to gently shove him away, but he wasn’t getting the hint. He tightened his lock on my waist, which made me struggle like a dog against a leash. I could have stopped in my tracks and refused to dance, but I didn’t want Lilly’s friends to think I was a snob. However, I didn’t want to be mauled against my will, either.
I had just about decided to storm off when a man spoke up from behind me.
“May I cut in?”
Ricky peered up and frowned at the source of the voice. He paused, then abruptly unhooked his grasp on my waist, sending me stumbling backward and smack into the stranger’s chest. I looked up awkwardly and saw Alex gazing down, his hands holding my biceps from where he caught my fall.
“Hey.” I smiled weakly.
“Hey.” He grinned back. “Wanna dance?”
I hobbled to my feet, careful not to break eye contact, and nodded.
“But—” Ricky cried, reaching out a hand.
“Later, Ricky,” Alex stated as he led me further into the pulsing crowd.
His fingers laced with mine, and this time it was my hand sweating.