"Don't let it be Mark Ballas. Don't let it be Mark Ballas." I kept chanting.
I opened the door. And there he stood. Mark Ballas.
Shit.
"Hi, I'm Mark. I see we're going to be partners for this season. That's great!"
"Yea…great…just great…" I said under my breath.
"What's that?"
"I'm Crystal. Crystal Chen." I smiled and held out my hand.
"I know. The writer, right?"
"Yup, that's what they call me."
"I'm sorry, I don't think I've read any of your books," said Mark, sounding sheepish.
"That's alright. I didn't think they'd appeal to your particular demographic," I replied. Keep smiling, I told myself.
There was a momentary silence. Great…I'm already feeling awkward.
"Well, Iet's get started, shall we?" He still sounded sheepish. Was that possible?
"Hey, I'll get you a copy tomorrow. Then you can tell me if you like it. But you don't have to read it if you don't want to."
He laughed. It sounded quite sincere. I don't know, I'm still having reservations.
"Thanks. You know, we'll be spending a lot of time together. 14 weeks, hopefully? I'm sure we can get to know each other better. "
He actually said it with a straight face. No double entendre. Gee…I must be more unattractive than I thought. Then, smile, I reminded myself.
The rest of the day went without much of a hitch. If you didn't take into the account the trips and falls. Or the weird spasms that my limbs seemed to be
experiencing in lieu of graceful movements. Even when Mark went through the steps in uber slow motion. It got progressively embarrassing as the day
went on.
Finally, when I could take it no longer, I said, "I'm really sorry, Mark."
He stopped in mid step, hand still clasping mine. "What for?"
"I'm a really, really, really bad dancer, aren't I? I'm totally botching up this Cha-Cha. My hips are jerky. I know I can count, but I keep missing a beat or
two or three. I turn when you don't. And I'm sure your feet must be swollen right now because I keep stepping on them." I winced as I finished the
sentence.
He looked me straight in the eye. I can't help it, I look away.
"Look, it's obvious you've never had any training before. But that's alright. I've trained Bristol Palin. And I can train you, Crystal. Trust me?"
He pulled up my chin so that my downward cast eyes would look back into his.
"Trust me," he repeated. After a moment, he added, "And remember to breathe."
I exhaled. Blood rushed to my face.
He smirked.
Damn.
- to be continued-