Summer Rain

IV ~ Knock Him Dead, Kid.

{Little Talks - Of Monsters and Men}

...There's an old voice in my head that's holding me back, well tell her that I miss our little talks...

----

May 20th

        Hours faded away, slipping out of my grasp, and I had been plucked and curled to perfection, ready for tonight's dinner. Mom fussed around the crowded bedroom while Cady raided my wardrobe, picking out a dress for me to wear in the ballroom that night. I had been given a single dance lesson but judging by the buzzing conversation around the cabin among my family members, they were expecting to see some serious dance moves.

        As Mom helped me zip up my dress that Cady had picked out for me before sulking off in her own room, I reached for my cosy, knit cardigan until I spied Dad out of the corner of my eye, standing between me and the cardigan as he swatted my hand away.

    "Not tonight," He ordered, leading me by the shoulders to the large dressing table mirror. "You don't need to wear it with that dress; it'll look strange. Tonight is your chance to make a good impression on Benjamin."

    His serious tone was ludicrous, but the fact remained -- Without my cardigan, one that I wore almost every day as I tugged at the sleeves as a way to keep calm, I wouldn't last two minutes on that dance floor with Benjamin and the other dancers. I knew deep down that the pressure being piled on me might become overwhelming.

    "I get it, your promotion is important. But Dad--" 

    "That's my girl! See, I knew you'd understand. Great, well, I'll leave you to it. Knock him dead, kid." 

     He exited hurriedly, my cardigan in hand. My mouth was still half-open from where he had interrupted me. This was not going to go well. As I attempted to compose myself before I finished getting ready, the reflection in the mirror didn't look a single thing like me, and the look in my eyes was not one filled with confidence. I was a rabbit in the headlights, dizzying before the night that was before me. 

----

        Okay, I'll admit, Benjamin was gorgeous. He had golden hair and tanned skin, and a face that models could only dream of. I'll admit he seemed a nice guy. He was funny and charismatic and definitely knew how to dance. Nothing about how lovely he was stopped the night from ending in disaster.

        Once the awkward introductions were over, he was quick to drag me up on to the dance floor, with my family pushing me onward. My arms felt so bare without my cardigan, but I tried not to focus on it and wore an empty smile instead. Mom and Dad, joined by Tim and Clara, all sat on the edge of the dance floor, their beady eyes staring over at us like vultures waiting for their next meal. They were bloodthirsty and wanted this arrangement to work. As Benjamin and I waltzed around the floor, I could feel my Mother's eyes on me as I imagined her planning our wedding as though the entire notion of a pairing was a done deal.

        All the while, Benjamin talked. He talked about himself, his family, his studies, his hobbies. Intermittently he would pause and ask about me, to which I'd respond, but there never seemed to be much to say in comparison to his epic novel of a life.

     All I could focus on were the steps Elliot had taught me earlier on that day when his lean body fit with the curve of mine as we moved to the beat of a very different drum than the buttoned-down, golden-haired boy I was now dancing with. The steps were like numbers I repeated in my head, a mantra forming as I tried to stay in time with the band.