In Every Way

8

Rehearsal rooms are all taken by the time Cooper meets me for our second rehearsal, so we start to walk to a park he knows that is near by. His guitar is slung across his back and I have my dance bag over mine. It's different, walking around the city for the second time today, only it's something else when I'm with Cooper.
The bustling energy I was consumed by this morning has slowed down to a moody pace. Our steps are drawn out and lazy, as if we have all the time in the world to get to where we're going. His hands hang loose in his pockets and I swing my arms by my sides in a carefree manner. Every once in a while he will step up onto park benches, balance on the curb, kick a rock out of his direct path. I keep my composure best as I can as the city landscape finds its place behind our movie scene.
"When is your birthday?" I ask, feeling compelled to use this alone time for getting to know him when he's not behind the guitar.
"May 7th." He flanks his shoulders to look at me. "Why?"
I shrug. "Just wondering."
"You were just wondering when my birthday is?"
"Yeah." I think of something more to ask. "What's your favorite color?"
"Uh... Green?"
"You don't sound too sure about that answer."
"Yeah cause I've never been asked that before. I don't know what to say."
"Mine is baby pink."
"To match the color of your pointe shoes?"
I glance at him sideways for knowing that. "You catch on quick."
"I'm observant," he says. "Is it my turn to ask a question?"
I nod.
Before he asks his question he turns to walk backward, talking to me the whole time. "Why dance? Why not cheer or gymnastics?"
   "Well, it was more of a place I could go to express my feelings, even at a young age."
    He grins, satisfied with my answer. "Your turn."
    "What's the name of the song you're currently working on?"
    His eyes narrow before he turns to walk next to me again. We get a few paces before he responds. "It's called Deep."
"Will you play it for me?"
"Maybe... when it's done. Or maybe not." He elevates onto the curb one foot at a time. "I don't usually show people my music."
"Oh." If he doesn't like to play his music for people, then why did he show me?
"I know what you're thinking."
"Do you?"
"Yep." He jumps from the curb and lands right in front of me. I bump into him, surprised. "You're wondering why I played for you. Do you want to know my answer?"
I nod, barely knowing what I'm agreeing to because he's so close, which seems to throw the whole universe off its axis.
"My answer is: I have no fucking clue why it's you."
Chills spring up my arms as his voice causes all time to cease. The way he said that like I'm all he's been thinking about... I'm brought back to the night we first met, when it somehow felt like I had known him forever, I feel that now. He is so familiar I have to hold myself back from kissing him like we've done it a million times before. But this is different than the bar. There, we were wild and free, surrounded by other people living their best life at the same time. But here at the park, this is real life. It's more of a statement.
My bag falling off my shoulder snaps me out of the moment. His hand trickling down my arm pulls me back in, until he grabs my bag for me and steps back into our walk. He says, "I think this is the spot." And goes to the nearest shaded bench in the grass.
Wow. Is this what it's like to feel strung out? Because every emotion is flying around playing ping pong between lighting up my brain and my heart. The logic of my brain is yanking me away, yelling, "SOS!". She's saying to run as fast as I can because she knows he will be a distraction. Cooper is a distraction. But my heart is pounding with adrenaline, fighting for a faster beat. It's overpowering any other feeling other than wanting nothing more than to follow him under that tree.
They do say the heart wants what it wants.
Walking into the field I feel out of place without the usual dance studio atmosphere. "It's different without mirrors. I can't see what I look like."
"Don't worry, you look good."
"Thanks," I breathe. "Let's start where we left off, I don't know about the next part. I can't decide between a few things. I could take it any direction."
"Since we've been going off of you maybe you try going off of me? I can play something and you can come up with the steps."
"Okay, I like that idea."
"I just need to think for a sec."
He sits on the bench and sets up while I take off my shoes and stretch my heels by rolling them up onto relevé. The air is warm as the sun glows but it's a nice day out.
I close my eyes and feel the grass between my toes. "Mmm. It feels good to be barefoot."
"You act like you haven't been outside in a while."
"I haven't. I wake up early to get to the studios and stretch, then train all day. Usually I have a private right after then I eat dinner and go to bed. There's no time to be outside."
"I thought you were in a dance academy not basic training for the marines."
I laugh. "I know it sounds harsh but that's the way it is. Dance is my life, it always has been."
"And what about the days you meet me? What was your schedule like today?"
"Class wise I had partnering, then stretch and strength. I just go done with progressions. Now I'm rehearsing with you."
"Progressions?"
"Like... across the floor. You go from one side of the room to the other while doing pirouettes, leaps, or combos. It's usually very technical."
"And what's partnering?" He asks as he continues to write, scribble, and erase.
"When two of us are dancing together or off of one another. Usually it's a girl and guy but it could be anyway a choreographer wants. Remember the lift you did yesterday? It's like that."
"So that means we're partners then?"
I never thought of him as my partner before. I like how it sounds. It's different than when I think of how Alister is my partner. "Yeah, it does."
"Okay partner, I think I have the next section if you want to hear it?"
    He plays for me as I sit and listen, going on for a few more notes. I smile up at him, knowing I can choreograph to it in seconds. I have the intention of representing the journey he takes you on in his music and creating something to visually reciprocate. "You're so talented." I stand. "Play it again?"
I add on to the combination as he plays, marking a few counts. Once I get the hang of it, I do everything full out. I take my time, trying out as much as I can until I feel it fits. He's patient with me as I repeat some steps over and over again as I think, trusting my body to flow into the right move. We work together at a consistent pace until we are satisfied with what we have.
    We go and go, then suddenly have to stop because one of his chords spring out of place.
    "Shit." He takes off the guitar to examine the problem.
Out of breath, I stop and watch. He looks frustrated. "Is it broken?"
    "Yeah, I'll have to fix it back at the garage." He puts it away in the case and leans his head back on the bench, looking up to the sky. "It's no big deal."
    "I think that's good for today anyway. What do you think?"
    "Good for me. You should come over here. Come look at this."
    "At the sky...?"
    He looks up at me with a soft, stern glare. "Just come here."
    I sit beside him and lay against the back of the bench. It's actually pretty comfortable.
    "Do you see it?" he asks.
    "The sky?" I'm so confused. "It's blue, and there are clouds."
    "No, the duck, its right there."
    "A duck?" Why would a duck be in the sky?
    "Just keep looking, you'll see it-"
    "Oh my gosh!" I point. "I see it." An eruption of laugher sputters out of me. "It's really shaped like a duck!"
    "What else can you see?"
    "Hm..." I study the endless shapes of clouds. "Ooo, I see one. It's a spoon."
    He scoffs. "That one right there? That doesn't look like a spoon."
    "What else could it be?"
    "That looks like a llama."
    I look at him with a fierce passion. "A llama?! There's no way." I gaze back to the floating spoon but realize it's morphed. "Just kidding, that is definitely a llama. But it was a spoon!"
  "I believe you," he laughs, his voice sounding closer than before.
    I look at him, looking at me. Weirdly, I choose to look up at the sky again. There's something about the way time moves when you're doing nothing but watch the clouds roll by. I feel stagnant in the best way possible. My mind isn't racing a mile a minute like it's been on over drive for the last who knows how many years.
    "Is it my turn to ask a question?" his tone matches the serenity of the moment.
    "I think so," I say with a slight grin at how he wants to keep playing our questions game.
    "What would you do if I told you I am like, really into you?"
    I'm glad I have the excuse of the clouds to mask my nervous expression from the burst of butterflies in my stomach. His words hit me like a freight train right here on the bench, in this park. My heart pulls toward him, but this time, my brain wins. She is holding up a big red sign that says, "Turn back now!" She is telling me I can't let myself slip up. That dance is life.
    "I don't know what to say," I whisper.
    "Sorry... I'm just in the moment."
    "It's okay." I admire him being able to stay so in-tune with himself all the time while I'm constantly thinking of what is next. "It's a good moment. I just..."
    "I know, you love dance."
    "Yes, I love dance." I'm so relieved he understands. "Uhm... Is it my turn?"
    His grin is exactly what I need to get out of the weird funk we were just in. "It is. What question do you have for me? Please don't say you're going to ask my favorite food or something."
    So he wants the deep questions? I can give him that, but first, "That's not my question but, what is your favorite food?"
    "Really?"
    "Really-"
    "I like deserts, like ice cream or cookies. What's yours?"
    "A good chopped salad."
    "Seriously? Out of every food in the whole world you choose a salad?"
    "They're the best. I don't eat cookies."
    His expression flinches. "Who doesn't like cookies?"
    "Everyone I know."
    "You mean the other dancers?"
    "Basically. We all eat pretty similar."
    "Hm." He eyes me. "You're missing out."
     His serious demeanor helps me realize we're off topic. "Can I ask my question now?"
    "Please."
    "You know the song you played for me the other day? What was it about?"
"Shit." His eyes seek refuge anywhere but with mine. "Maybe I do like the silly questions better."
I giggle into a grin, loving how caught up he seems, and wait for his reply.
"Uh..." He ruffles his hair for a second. "Do you want the short version or the long?"
    "Long." All the way.
    "So... my mom left when I was young. My dad never was able to cope so he turned to drinking his sorrows away and as I grew up things got more violent. I've lived a lot of my childhood into young adult life in fight or flight. Constant stress situations. When my dad died I didn't have anything left but music. It was... still is... the only thing I have."
    I can tell by the nostalgic tone in his voice that he is speaking from a place of experience. "That's why you're one of the sad ones?"
    "I was. Some days still am. I don't think it will ever stop haunting me."
    "You know... I'm sure a lot of people would connect with those lyrics."
"I don't know-"
"No, seriously. You have a way of drawing people in when you play, that coupled with rockstar guitar skills... lyrics straight from the soul? They would love you."
"You really like it that much?"
"I really do."
    His smirk comes out to play with my girlish grin, causing my nerves to buzz beneath the surface of my skin.
    "Next time I see you... I promise to play something."
    My grin grows to a tamed smile. "An original?"
    "If that's what you want, I'll do it." He looks at me. "What's your schedule for tomorrow?"
"I have a full day. Twelve hours."
"What about Friday night?"
I want to ask him why the sudden interest but I answer, "Friday is the same. We only get Sunday's off."
"Do you ever have time for fun?"
"I'm having fun right now."
"Me too," he grins. "Want me to walk you back?"
My giggle gets caught in my throat but I manage to say, "I'd like that."