Dreams of a Virgin

BAILE DEL SUEÑO (DREAM DANCE)

One of Jeff's favorite activities is ballroom and Latin dancing. And, as they say, it takes two to tango, among other things.

I had been taking dance lessons for three years. I had won competitions. I had performed in charity showcases. I had done all of this with my instructor. After all this time, I had yet to find a partner of my own.

Michaela had been taking lessons for only one year. She felt she was ready for competitions. Like me, she had no partner, only her instructor.

There was a major competition in two months. Michaela and I both wanted to compete. The competition consisted of ten dances: Viennese waltz, fox trot, tango, quickstep, rumba, cha cha, Paso doble, samba, mambo, and jive. On top of that, each couple had to perform a solo routine of a dance of their choice.

During one of my lessons, Michaela's instructor Adam came over to me.

"Jeff, I have something to ask you. I know you are competing in two months. So is Michaela. Unfortunately, I won't be able to go with her. I wanted to run the idea by you of partnering with her in the competition."

I thought about it for a minute. I had won competitions with my instructor. No offense to my teacher, but inside I wanted a challenge. I saw that Michaela was not a bad dancer. I agreed to be Michaela's partner.

Over the next few weeks, the two of us worked together to build the chemistry needed between dance partners. We built the trust. I worked on my lead with my new partner.

In the first month, we spent three days a week training two hours a day. On Monday and Wednesday, we rehearsed the ten required dances. On Friday, we worked on learning a solo number, a bolero, a very sexy, seductive dance.

With each lesson, Michaela and I grew closer as friends and partners. After the first month, the chemistry was there. The trust was there.

With one month to go before the competition, we concentrated more on the solo routine. We knew the steps in the ten required dances, but still spent one day a week perfecting them. The solo routine, however, had to be learned from scratch and thus needed more time devoted to it.

By now, Michaela and I began hanging out outside of the studio. We had grown to be more than friends, but not enough for a relationship.

With a week left before the competition, we knew our routines. We spent this week perfecting everything. Lines, fluidity, every little detail.

The night before the competition, we were rehearsing in private, away from all instructors. We knew this routine backwards and forwards. At the very end of the routine, I gently lowered Michaela to the ground. The routine ended with me staring deep into her eyes, her lying on her back.

In this instance, the feeling of the dance overcame me. At the end, I kissed her. Knowing this was not part of the routine, I pulled back quickly. I knew what I did was wrong. I also knew that we had grown closer each day we rehearsed.

I looked at her, and she did not seem embarrassed. In fact, she rose up and kissed me. In fact, she kissed me with the passion of the bolero.

After two months of training together, this dance had brought out a part of us neither knew we had.

Her kiss ignited a fire between the two of us. As the flames grew high, we each shed clothing. As the fire reached its peak, all clothing had been removed.

That was when I realized that I needed to douse the flames. With my hose, I entered the hottest portion of the fire, between Michaela's legs. After fighting the heat for a while, my hose sprayed. Instead of cooling her down, fighting the flames only made her hotter. There had to be asbestos in the floors to keep them from catching fire too. The sprinkler system had to be malfunctioning; otherwise both of us would have been soaking wet.

In time, all fires eventually burn themselves out. So, too, did this fire.

The next day was the competition. As we got there, there was a feeling of uncertainty. After last night, there was a fear that we were too close. As we talked about our routines, that fear subsided. Watching the warm-ups, we saw the other competitors having fun out there. It loosened us up as well.

The competition started with the ballroom dances. We nailed the fox trot, but stumbled a bit in the Viennese waltz. This had always been my weakest dance. We recovered and nailed the tango and quickstep.

There was a brief intermission, with an exhibition dance from our judges, a professional couple who had appeared on Dancing with the Stars.

After the intermission came the Latin competition. It started with a cha cha, followed by the samba, my favorite dance. As the rumba started, I felt a bit nervous. The rumba is the dance of love, and after last night, I didn't want to be too risqué. Michaela calmed me down and we nailed the rumba. We also nailed the mambo.

Next, the Paso doble, the dance of the bullfighter. I channeled the passion of the bolero and combined it with a new-found intensity and performed my best Paso routine ever.

Finally, the jive. I knew this was Michaela's weakest dance, and dancing this last after the other nine dances didn't add to it. But she fought through it and we danced a good routine.

With the group routines completed, each couple had to perform their solo routine. One by one, we watched the other couples perform. Some of the routines were really good, better than ours, I thought.

Then, it was our turn. I could feel the spark ignite when I looked in her eyes as the music started. We danced a smooth, passionate bolero. I lifted her in the air as though she was weightless. At the end of the dance, I gently lowered her to the floor. As the music stopped, instead of kissing her as I did last night, I simply winked and smiled. I pulled her up and we took our bows.

After another brief intermission, the winners were announced. As they announced third place, I saw that our name had not been called. Then the announcement came.

"And the winner in our amateur couple division... Jeff and Michaela!"

We hugged each other tightly, then went up to accept our trophy. I could tell that tonight there would be another celebration. Better put the fire department on alert.