Shadows and Lies by Karen Reis

to the main dance area where our instructor was warming up. She was a tiny woman in her fifties with bright bottle red hair and clear, smooth skin. I eyed the thin woman carefully as she finished stretching and greeted us. I thought her face was maybe too smooth. I watched her facial muscles as she spoke to us in a beautiful Castilian Spanish accent and oh! – there it was: the telltale signs of Botox injections.
    Our instructor introduced herself as Señora Valdez, and she made us stretch and jump in place as a way of warming up our muscles. Soon, she was putting us through our paces, and I began to believe with all my heart that she would have made a good dictator to a small country. We spent most of that first lesson learning about posture and frame and how to move on our toes and we spent very little time, it seemed to me, on actually dancing. It wasn’t until the last fifteen minutes that she let us partner up, and as Sean and I stood there in front of each other, our practiced positions and posture just felt right and comfortable, and I felt that I could easily begin to move without worrying about either of us stepping on the other’s toes. It might also have had a little something to do with the fact that it was Sean’s hands that were on me and not, say…Quinn’s or Dan Doherty’s, but I will give most of the credit to Señora Valdez.
    However, Sean was still a man, and when I stopped and thought about the fact that there was a man’s hand encircling waist and holding my hand, his eyes gazing into mine, I started to get very nervous and it showed in my steps and posture, which the Señora was quick to point out to me.
    “The gentleman will not bite,” she told me in clipped tones, putting her hands on my shoulders to yank me back into proper position. “He is your support, your leader. Do not be afraid to let yourself relax. Become vulnerable. Allow him to take charge.” She grabbed my jaw and turned my head so that I looked straight into Sean’s eyes. “There. Stand closer, look into his eyes and pretend that he is the only one in the room for you.”
    Sean took advantage of the situation with a grin on his face and griped on my waist more firmly so that it was impossible for me to slink away. “She’s right, you know,” he whispered into my ear as the Señora went back to counting out steps. “I promise to not bite you, and I really am the only one in the room for you.”
    Well, now what was I supposed to say to that? I had no idea what to do either, and it didn’t help that my mouth went dry and my face flushed a bright pink. Sean smiled when he saw my blush, but he had mercy on me and said no more. He did however stroke my back lazily as we moved, and he kept me closer to him than was strictly necessary. His eyes held mine captive and rational thought stopped. I was hot, then cold, then hot again, and my skin tingled where he touched me. I ached to be closer to Sean even as the idea terrified me.
    The clapping hands of Señora Valdez ripped me out of my reverie, and I jerked away from Sean as if I were guilty of something bad. He let go of me, his fingers trailing off mine.
    “Our hour is over everyone,” Señora Valdez called out. “You all did very well, especially you, Genny and Isaac.” They both smiled at each other, pleased with the praise.
    “I look forward to see you all here next week at this time,” our teacher said, moving us toward the front room of the studio were our purses and coats were stored. “Now, you must practice, practice, practice. I expect strong frames and toes when you come back here.”
    We all said thank you and good night, gathered up our things, and left. I rushed outside, overwhelmed. I was a simple girl who had grown up without affection. My father had never hugged me, my stepmother had never kissed me, and I didn’t remember my real mother. I was starved for love, but Sean’s tender touch and speech left me so swamped that I had to struggle for