So, I promised I'd help him out, right?

Did I forget to mention that the boy has an attention span of a pea? How about that he's about as impatient as a mule?

I hate myself. No, really, I do. It's like my mouth has a mind of its own and it likes to torment me.

Anyway, we started those lessons the next day on the roof. Spot actually seemed anxious at first.

At first.

"Okay, so first you need to know where your hands - … Conlon?" I glared. "Are you even paying attention to me?"

Spot looked up from picking at his cane. "What?"

My eye twitched. He made my eye twitch.

"Do you wanna learn how to dance or not?"

"When I asked you to teach me, I didn't think you'd blab on and on and on about nothing."

"It is NOT about nothing!" It took me a second. "I mean it is not nothing…not…oh forget it. Look, everything I say has a purpose, okay? Now pay attention or you can step all over some girl's feet and embarrass yourself all the way back to Brooklyn for all I care."

"Where do you get off talking to ME like that! If you weren't a girl I'd-…"

"Yeah, yeah you'd beat my face in, yadda yadda. Come here." I motioned for him to move forward.

"You COULD say please." He muttered as he slowly walked up to me.

"Why? You don't." I began moving his limbs to different positions. "Stay still, blast you."

"What the hell are you doing?" He inquired, tensing up and watching me.

"Moving you, what's it look like?" I stood back and examined my work. I had to admit, he looked really goofy by himself.

I couldn't resist making him look like a goober, now could I?

His arms were positioned as they might be in they had a woman in them; his legs spread only slightly to give a stance. He kind of looked like the Statue of Liberty...

"I feel so stupid." Spot complained. "Is this really necessary?"

"Yes, and I'm not gonna lie to you…you look stupid, too. But that's only until you actually start dancing WITH someone, I promise…STOP MOVING!"

With an exasperated sigh, he fixed his stance and gave me a look.

This was fun!

"Okay, you'd better get used to standing like that, 'cause that's how you're going to dance."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Get used to it." I repeated. "Your higher hand is where the girl's hand goes, and your lower hand goes on her waist. Keep that low hand there; otherwise you'll have a sore cheek."

He only gave me a grin. "What if they WANT me to touch there?"

"You wish. In any case, if they do, you'll have to refrain from doing so until later on. It shows you're not a perv and all that. You know, it shows you're a gentleman."

"Timb, if I was a gentleman, I wouldn't have-…"

"Keep it to yourself, Conlon, I don't wanna know!" I plugged my ears quickly.

I hated when he talked about his…uh, "social" life. I may be a tomboy, but I'm still female, which I think he forgets sometimes. Quite annoying, actually.

"Okay, okay I'm not saying anything…but can we get on with it? I'm missing the game…" His gaze traveled over to the fire escape, which had nearly rattled with all the noise coming from the bunkroom.

"Yeah, okay. Next…well, I'm not a really good teacher, so I'll skip ahead a bit, alright? I'll do a few steps slowly, and then you repeat them, okay?"

"Sounds easy. Alright."

Famous last works there, folks. It took us nearly an hour more than it should have. Mostly because he's an impatient ass. I think he had a girl in the bunkroom, because he only gets prissy if he's missing a female. In any case…

"Timber…it's almost 10:00…can I PLEASE go inside now?" He asked from his laying spot on the roof. He'd fallen over at one point and just kind of laid there...

He hadn't said anything for a while, so I was kind of worried that he'd died for a moment. Only for a moment, though.

"Yeah, sure, be gone with you. We'll try again tomorrow. Remember that the dance is two weeks from now, will you?"

"Okay, okay, sheesh. I'll see you tomorrow." Spot said and stuffed his hands in his pockets once he got up, and climbed down the fire escape.

"Sweet Jesus." I muttered, wanting to pull my hair out.

Spot Conlon had no patience. Spot Conlon wanted to learn how to dance…and we had two weeks. Timber DeMarco (that's me) is going to loose all of her sanity in that small amount of time.

We had a LOT of work to do.

I hate dances. They did this to me. Blast them to hell.

TO HELL I SAY!

It wasn't until after he was gone for about an hour that I realized he'd said please. Spot Conlon said please. And I had no proof of it for the Record Books. Damn him.