Save The Last Dance

+
Jonas’ hand squeezed her arm. Silently, his head turned, nodded along the beach. Two figures could be seen in the moonlight.

Hand in hand, the newlyweds strolled slowly together towards the water’s edge, their voices low and full of love, of promise, of endless tomorrows. Charlize stopped at the water’s edge, laughed lightly at the feeling of the warm water on her feet, then turned and pulled Todd to face her.

Her hands swept up over his face, drew him down for a long, lingering kiss.

+

As little girls, Charlize and Kelly had been each other’s shadow. They’d made snowmen, played with dolls, built blanket forts in each other’s basement, ‘helped’ their mothers bake cookies. Their birthdays being two days apart, each received her first bicycle — and the skinned knees to go with them — on the same weekend. Older, they’d experimented with makeup, wobbled together on heels, talked endlessly about boys. As BFFs in school, Kelly had coached Charlize in math and science; Charlize had kept her afloat in Spanish and French.

They enrolled at the same university. Kelly dove into the sciences like a dolphin suddenly freed from a zoo. Charlize had happily prospered in Fine Arts. Short of money, she’d taken up modelling for the department.

“C’mon, Kel,” she’d urged sometime later. “The university pays $13 an hour just for posing - $14 for topless - and the other students often tip on top of that.”

“I don’t think so,” Kelly had said, dubiously. “Aren’t there boys there?”

“Oh, don’t be so mousy, Kelly! Of course there are boys there, but they’re cool about it. There’s nothing pervy going on at all. And full nudity brings $15.50 an hour. Show me anywhere else where a first-year student can make that much.”

“I don’t think they’d want me, Charlize. You’re so much prettier.”

“They want a variety of people, Kelly. Look, last week there was this old man, like 60 years old at least, with a pot belly and a long beard. The instructors would love to use you as a model, girl.”

Kelly had been talked into going, just to ‘check it out’. Indeed, the student artists, boys included, all seemed focussed and respectful. The sketches pinned up around the classroom undeniably showed a wide variety of people, including some women Kelly thought needed a serious diet and time in the gym.

Charlize had shown no embarrassment when she emerged from behind a change screen dressed only in sandals. She’d simply walked casually up to a small central platform and waited for the instructor to settle her into a natural pose.

Yes, the boys were ‘interested’, but there was nothing creepy about either them or the class and Kelly shrugged inwardly. They could hardly pretend to not notice, could they?

It was OK for Charlize, she decided after a few minutes. Charlize was clearly a natural for it, but it wasn’t something she herself would be comfortable with. She’d watched the students sketch for a few minutes, then caught Charlize’s eye. Waving lightly, she’d left.

Photos of Charlize had been noticed by an agency a year later. Kelly had been surprised by the size of the offer. Charlize spent a lot of time thinking about it and talking about the value of a degree, but Kelly wasn’t all that surprised when she dropped out.

Charlize had been an instant hit. She had that mysterious, undefinable factor photographers loved and a confident, natural beauty that grabbed the attention of potential customers. Ad agencies loved her. She hadn’t been on the front page of the swimsuit issue, but she’d been inside it a couple of times. Her name was all over the social media and Kelly saw her photo in online ads, in magazines and on billboards.

While it was clear that their worlds had drifted apart, neither of them was willing to let go of the other. They chatted on Facebook and Twitter almost daily, if only to say hi. They shared dreams, talked about their love affairs, shared news and confidences as young women do. Whenever Charlize came to town to visit her parents, she always made time for Kelly, whether still in the university grind or dull-but-lucrative employment. If she couldn’t understand Kelly’s passion for mathematics, she was certainly happy for her friend and impressed with her smarts. And for Charlize, having a friend she could be 100% natural with was a gem. For Kelly, delighted for her friend’s success, it was a vision into a world most women only dream of.

Then one day Kelly had seen Charlize on the front page of a checkout aisle magazine with the headline, “Surprise engagement!” She’d smiled, for Charlize had mentioned Todd months before, calling him dreamy. Just three weeks after their first date came a text that raised Kelly’s eyebrows: “He doesn’t know he wants to marry me. Yet.”

The request to be a bridesmaid hadn’t, in other words, caught Kelly entirely by surprise.

At least she wasn’t going to figure out what to do with a hideous, unwearable-anywhere-thereafter bridesmaid dress. A young woman’s closet could fill with those all too quickly.

“Kelly,” Charlize had said over the phone, “I’ve already bought your dress. I’ve bought everybody’s dress, girlfriend.”

“But...”

“Kelly, keep in mind that we’re getting married at a Polynesian island resort. Trust me.” With that, the discussion had ended.

The sarong (two of them actually) came in the mail a week later, matching her colour perfectly. Charlize’s taste was — of course — exquisite. Kelly felt her heart turn over when she first wrapped one around her bare body, experimented with draping it this way and that, posed in her mirror.

And there would be no uncomfortable shoes to fret over, no silly hat. It was to be just a sarong, bare feet and a suntan.

Kelly’s credit card had flinched a little when she’d heard where the wedding was to take place, but Charlize’s people had arranged a bulk ticket discount and the room at the resort, much to her surprise, had been free.

“The magazine’s doing a shoot here starting three days later,” Charlize had laughed. “The editor was happy to pay for a few extra days in return for me letting him use some wedding photos.

“It works out well, for him, anyway,” she’d said happily. “Most of the girls they’ll be shooting will be at the wedding, so nobody’s going to hold things up by missing a connection or something. And they can write it all off at tax time.”

So, Polynesia.

In a sarong.

With the Beautiful People.

+

The wedding had gone smoothly. It had been simple, short and nobody forgot their lines or lost a ring. The love between the two was obvious.

There were more women there than men, which Kelly realized made sense. The women were ones Charlize worked with. Some had brought boyfriends or husbands, of course. One, she thought, seemed to have brought one of each. Some of them had come single and some were definitely more interested in girls than boys.

And the men accompanying the beautiful women were equally beautiful. Kelly mused that the old saying about opposites attracting wasn’t always so. That didn’t mean there wasn’t variation. Far from it. But there were no unattractive men there, no sloppy fat ones, no badly-groomed ones. There wasn’t a hanging gut to be seen.

And Charlize’s sarong idea had been perfect, she thought — lovely women clothed in beautiful fabrics of every hue under heaven. She’d initially wondered how the men would take to it, found it was a non-issue. Worn around their waists like kilts, the crowd of bare masculine chests at a wedding was odd, but rather fun, she thought.

If Cosmopolitan could have an entire edition with every man in it topless, why not a marriage on a tropical island? It worked.

Charlize was stunning in her own sarong and Todd... well, Todd looked as amazing in person as he had in photos — and charming, to boot.

The dinner had been excellent, with a fusion sort of menu. The feast, as a good one should, had left Kelly just a little overstuffed.

The speeches over, the dancing started and Kelly quietly slipped outside. She knew her limitations and two left feet were high on the list.

Sitting at the water’s edge, the girl sighed to herself. She had a good figure, clear hazel eyes, long dark hair. Her smile was really attractive. She’d had boyfriends. She got noticed back home. She was pretty enough.

But that was the problem.

Pretty enough.

Back home, in her own circle, she was a rose among daisies. Here, among Charlize’s friends, she was a rose among orchids.

It had been clear from the moment she’d arrived at the airport departure gate that she had very little in common with Charlize’s supermodel friends. It wasn’t just their high cheekbones, perfect teeth and practised, graceful walk. Nor were they bitchy or brainless — far from it.

They had however a collective world view, a corpus of life experience lightyears out of Kelly’s reach. One and all, they seemed pleased to meet Charlize’s ‘very best friend’ and they’d tried very hard to make her feel welcome. Several had seemed genuinely impressed when, on being asked her profession, Kelly had simply said ‘mathematics’. But the harder they tried to include her, the more Kelly was aware she was someone who had never experienced, could never experience, their Reality. Hardly the ugly duckling, but hardly one of them either.

So.

She put it aside. The people were nice, the wedding had been fun, the resort was amazing and she was determined to have a good time.

Just not on the dance floor.

She thought about that, looking up at the stars, the constellations so different from those at home. She smiled at a falling star.

“Hi,” came a voice from behind. Kelly started slightly, but there was no menace in the deep voice. Looking around, she saw Jonas, Todd’s best man.

Of average hieght, Jonas was brawny, with long arms and solid shoulders. His sandy hair was close-cropped and his moustache carefully trimmed. Oddly for his appearance, he moved with a grace unusual even in the present company.

Jonas had been busy, tying up in every detail of the wedding and the reception; Kelly hadn’t had spoken more than a few words to him since she’d arrived. Only now, she could see, he could finally relax.

“Charlize said you’re a mathematician,” he said. “What sort of math? Is that the right question?”

“I’m working as an actuary right now. I do risk analysis for an insurance company. Very dull stuff, mostly.”

“Hardly a traditional field for a young woman, though” he replied. “And I would think that the competition has to be pretty stiff for that sort of position.”

“Well, let’s just say that they have high standards,” she said. How in the world did we get onto this? she wondered.

“I’m impressed,” he replied. “You obviously did a math degree.”

“My master’s thesis was on oscillation theory for non-linear equations,” she said dryly. “Still impressed?”

“I’ll confess I have no idea what that even means,” he said. She could feel his grin in the darkness. “Could you break it down for me? Into English, preferably?”

“Um, no, sorry. I simply can’t. The title and my name were just about the last actual words in the thesis. I don’t mean to seem stuck-up, but if you don’t speak the language, you can’t possibly understand the concepts.”

Kelly sagged as she heard herself speak. Oh, crap. Just crap! The only single guy in like 1,000 miles willing to talk to you and you’ve made yourself look stuck-up and 50 IQ points brighter. Way to go, Kelly!

“Gotcha. Well, If you wouldn’t mind my joining you, I could tell you about metabolic pregnancy toxaemia in sheep.”

She turned to stare at him, her mouth open. “Metabolic... sheep? Are you...?”

“A veterinarian? Yup. Well, I was.”

“You were a vet?” Kelly wasn’t sure what a veterinarian was supposed to look like, but Jonas didn’t seem the type.

He nodded. “Mind if I join you?” he repeated. Taking her silence for agreement, he sat down beside her, sighed with pleasure as he slid his feet into the water.

“Wait... was?”

“I found myself one bitterly cold evening in an unheated stable trying to deliver a malpresented Clydesdale foal. Nice animals for their size, Clydesdales, but it struck me – don’t ask me why – that there had to be better ways of spending my nights. Especially when she stepped on my foot and nearly broke two toes."

He paused and Kelly laughed.

She relaxed. Whatever Jonas might or might not be, he was not aloof. He wasn’t afraid to laugh at himself and his story was about as down-to-earth as could be.

“So, what do you do with yourself, now that you’ve given up molesting half-ton horses?”

“Would you believe that I teach ballroom dancing?”

“What?” This time, her amazement was real.

“I know, eh?” he grinned. “I always enjoyed it, it turned out I was pretty good at it and the hours are a lot more predictable.”

“Nobody ever looks like what they really are,” she said softly. His catlike, graceful movements were easier to understand now.

His grin grew softer, but no less sincere. “Except maybe the bride and groom tonight. They both look pretty happy.”

“True.”

Kelly wiggled her toes in the water beside Jonas’s feet, smiled at little at the expanding circles.

Behind them, celebrations filled the night with party sounds – music, laughter, conversation. People dancing in front of the rows of flickering torches cast shivering shadows across the beach and trunks of palm trees.

The ocean was millpond-still, but the moon was behind her and she couldn’t see their reflections in the water.

Jonas’ hand suddenly caught her arm, squeezed. Startled, she turned to look at him.

Silently, his head turned, nodded along the beach. Two figures could be seen in the moonlight — Charlize and Todd. Hand in hand, the newlyweds strolled slowly together towards the water’s edge, their voices low and full of love, of promise, of endless tomorrows. Charlize stopped at the water’s edge, laughed lightly at the feeling of the warm water on her feet, then turned and pulled Todd to face her.

Her hands swept up over his face, drew him down for a long, lingering kiss.

Kelly blushed, embarrassed to be watching the couple in such an intimate moment.

She pulled on Jonas’ arm; perhaps they could slip away. The man might as well have been made of concrete. Instead of moving, he leaned in and whispered in her ear.

“Sssh. They think they’re finally alone; it’s their moment now. Don’t break the mood for them.”

Kelly’s attention was drawn back to the pair by the flutter of sarongs being discarded on the beach. Bare now, they pulled each other into a warm hug, hands trailing slowly up and down each other’s back and bottom.

Entranced, Kelly’s breath caught as the two, again hand in hand, waded out into the water. The moonlight was bright enough for her to see the sway of Charlize’s breasts, the meaty swing of her now-husband’s heavy manhood as they moved.

Charlize dropped Todd’s hand, seizing instead his hardness. Laughing, she pulled him towards her. The man tripped and fell, clutching at her and pulling her down into the water with him.

The two surfaced a moment later, their laughter clear and clean across the water. After another heart-stopping kiss, they broke into a strong crawl for the tiny islet opposite.

Kelly watched as Charlize’s slender form emerged from the ocean, quickly fading from sight in the fast-falling darkness. Todd, darker, was just visible. The two, again hand in hand, vanished into the trees.

“Wow,” Jonas breathed. His voice sounded almost reverential.

For some reason, Kelly no longer felt embarrassed. The scene had left her feeling totally approving, happier for having seen it. It had been as pure and loving as anything she could possibly imagine; yes, sexy, but hardly smutty. Todd and Charlize were plainly very much in love and, having watched the two, Kelly could but envy them and wish them well.

Still, there was no denying the effect the scene had had on her.

Trying to take that off her mind, she asked the obvious.

“There’s a guest house or something over there, I guess?”

“Yeah. The Honeymoon Cottage. Anna and I were out there this afternoon, making sure it was all ready.”

Kelly had met Anna, Charlize’s manager and matron of honour. She was, Kelly thought, maybe Austrian? Blonde, blue-eyed, a former model herself, she’d been nice to Kelly, polite but protective. Somebody had to protect the Talent from riffraff, Kelly thought.

From people like me, in other words.

“What’s it like?”

“Very simple, but very elegant, damned expensive for such simplicity. It’s also very private; it’s the only thing out there and the only way out there is by boat or swimming. You can lie in bed and see the ocean between the trees. Beaucoup flowers everywhere. It’s very quiet and peaceful, like being all by yourself in another world.

“It’s essentially one big bedroom, with floor-to-ceiling screens on three walls. There’s an outdoor shower, a toilet, an evaporative cooler for food and wine and a small gas stove for coffee and tea. No clocks, no electricity, no wi-fi - nothing to distract the bride and groom. They provide candles and oil lamps - very romantic, I guess.

“Sounds amazing.”

“Well, they deserve it.”

The two sat for a few minutes after the newlyweds had vanished.

“Look,” he said, pointing. “A shooting star!”

“They’re so pretty,” she breathed. “Thank you. I saw one earlier. They’re fun.”

Kelly could sense his head turn beside her, back up to the pavilion. A soft waltz was playing.

“Would you care to dance, Kelly?”

The girl sighed. “Best man offering the mandatory duty dance to the obvious wallflower?”

She’d intended it as a joke, but was surprised at how bitter her words sounded.

“I’m sorry...” she started to apologize, but his belly laugh cut her off. It was an infectious laugh and she found herself, despite her embarrassment, laughing along with him.

“Nope!” he said, cutting off her apology. “But I get it, Kelly. How about just an guy asking a dance of the only other half-way-normal person on the island?”

He continued to chuckle softly.

Kelly turned to face him, a sad smile on her face.

“Thank you, Jonas,” she said. “But I can’t dance. Never could.”

She listened to the music coming from up the hill.

“Not even not the waltz.”

“Hey,” she heard him say, waited for mockery or saccharine sympathy in his voice. Every girl loves to dance, right?  

Then, again, “Hey, would you do me the honour, Ms. Kelly, of trying with me? Just this one dance?”

“Really, Jonas,” she said, her heart sinking. The one boy in this paradise interested in her seemed intent on her demonstrating her core-deep lack of coordination. “Really, you don’t want that.”

The man stood up. In the dimness, she felt him reach down, find her arm, slide down to take hand. He straightened up, lifting her. His grip was not strong; she could have pulled away, but this was not force; it was encouragement. Against her inner misgivings, she allowed herself to be lifted to her feet.

“See?” he said, his teeth white in the moonlight. “You’re already learned the first step!”

“The first step?” she asked, confused.

“Saying yes when you’re asked to dance.” He chuckled a little, led them up the path to a patio just below the pavilion. The torchlight was blocked by the slope; while they were still only illuminated only by starlight, the music was loud enough to hear clearly.

“Come,” he said softly. “Take my hand.”

Trembling a little with apprehension, she took his hand with hers, felt his other hand take her above the waist. She reached up, put her other hand on his upper arm.