Teaching Hutch to Dance
300 words
"Hutch. We're trying again."
"Again?" Hutch's brow wrinkled incredulously. "Is that a good idea?"
Starsky took his hands, pulled him off the couch, and dancing-close. "Now. You follow my lead. I'll let you lead when you get better, don't worry."
Hutch's brow was wrinkling like crazy. "Don't dip me, okay?"
"You don't like Ramón?" said Starsky, with that certain light in his eye, rolling his 'r.'
Hutch shook his head emphatically. "Not so much, no. I thought you were gonna drop me on my back."
"Hardly. I'm not such a weakling."
"I never said…"
"Quit stallin', Blondie. Follow my steps." Starsky's voice was authoritative, and his hands tightened. "Now come on. One—two—three— OW!"
He stopped dancing, biting down on his lips, releasing Hutch and shaking out his foot.
Hutch stood back sorrowfully. "I told you, Starsk, I'm just no good at dancing."
"Yeah? Well you are gonna learn, Hutch." He advanced on his partner with a fierce look in his eye, grabbed him in another hold. "Now follow me—and this time watch where you put your giant feet!"
Hutch's brow wrinkled anxiously, and he tentatively let Starsky take the lead again. "I don't—"
"It's okay, Hutch. I know ya didn't stomp me on purpose." He gave Hutch a little smile and a nod. Hutch smiled back nervously. "Now say it with me—a one, two, three, four…"
"One two three—ow!" Hutch stumbled against the coffee table, barking his shin. He bent and rubbed it, making a sour face. "Ah. I told you, Starsk, I told…" He gnawed his lower lip.
"Okay. Okay, Hutch." Starsky plopped on the sofa, admitting defeat. "Enough. We'll try again…tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?!" Hutch jerked up—smacking into the coffee table again. "OW!"
Starsky regarded him dubiously. "Well, maybe the day after that."