Chapter 49

“I walked into adventure and adventure has given me blisters.”
—Andrea K. Höst, Stray

“WAIT. SO, YOU GOT IN A CAR with this woman you’ve been working out with for two weeks, she drove you to a church out in the country someplace, and you ran a 5k cross country race? And Coach Jock was there to run, too, and enlisted you to run cross country on the school team. Have I got it right?” Rachel asked. We were just lazing in her living room with Richard and Pey watching movies. Mom was making sure I was ‘occupied’ during the time before school so I didn’t get in trouble. Rachel was in the same boat with Richard so we decided to just do our babysitting together.

“That’s pretty much it. Em and I saw Nanette running at the same time as us a lot. It wasn’t like she was a total stranger. Besides, even though we hardly knew each other, she was one of my physical therapists at the hospital. She’s a great runner and placed first in her age group at the race. She’s been giving me pointers and helping me get my running on track.”

“And she’s cute? She’s the first person outside our little group that I’ve heard you so enthusiastic about. Are you going to bring her home to meet the girlfriends?” Rachel asked as she punched me in the shoulder.

“It’s not like that. She’d never give me a second look. She’s ... older. I mean, she’s cute in that forty-year-old way and I like her a lot. But you don’t need to be concerned about any inappropriate behavior. Really, she’s in the same class as...”

“As... ?” Rachel prodded.

“Well, there are other attractive older ladies that I like a lot. None of them would ever give me a second glance,” I said. Besides, I was happy just being with Rachel and in a week, Desi would be home for a week and then Joan. And I had dance lessons with Brittany this week. And ... And I just wasn’t going to tell anyone about how attracted I was to older women. Most girls my own age—my physical V3 age—I still thought of as little children. I’d just suspended my guilt in the case of one. Or four.

“Who?”

“Really? Well, Ms. Levy, for example.”

“Hell, yes! I want to be with you!”

“Rachel! Are you serious?”

“I know we have to be really careful about that stuff. Until we’re eighteen and out of school, we have to keep the relationship strictly professional, but you could make sure she knows we’re interested. You know. Put it in a story she’s editing for you,” Rachel said.

“Wow. Um ... Wow.”

“Who else?”

“Oh. Uh, you know there are some people who I see and feel like I already know them. It’s weird. Like they were part of some alternate past I had. It’s really weird.”

“Who?”

“Brittany’s Aunt Sophie. She likes to dance and she’s hot.”

“You’re going to Brittany’s for another lesson this week, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Watch her closely. Is she signaling anything other than teaching you to dance? She’s hot? Like Brittany?”

“Well, Brittany is really cute, but she’s also really young, and she’s a quarter Latina. Sophie is half Latina—Brittany’s mother’s sister. And yeah. Maybe it’s just the dancing, but she turns me on,” I admitted.

“Don’t pass up opportunities, Jacob. When possible, loop us in. You know, your girlfriends like to play.”

“Does that go for you, too? You won’t be passing up opportunities?” I asked. My heartrate accelerated like I was ready to defend my territory. Rachel was mine. No one else’s.

“Jacob? Honey, don’t make up things that have no basis. You know how much all the girls like to play with each other. Other guys? Not right now. When I’m all the way across the country in National Service? Who knows? That’s why we all want to be accepting of each other and the kind of relationships that develop. We want to be able to come back together.”

“I know,” I sighed. “I’m sorry I get jealous. I’m just so much in love with you...”

“See? That’s what I mean. This summer, I’m all you’ve had. You need to be occupied by some of our girlfriends and maybe others so you aren’t obsessed with any one of us. You know Desi will be back next week and want time with you. And Joan gets back the following weekend. Remember Joan’s sensitive nipples and clean-shaved pussy? I can almost smell her all the way from Chicago.”

“Rachel, you drive me crazy. Totally, stark raving mad. I love you.”

“I love you, Jacob.”

Wednesday evening, Mom, Dad, Pey, and I went to the Adams’s house for dinner and dancing. I guess Brittany’s family was used to entertaining. Their table extended far enough to accommodate all eleven of us with no difficulty and they just pushed all the furniture in the living room and dining room back against the walls when it was time for our dancing instruction.

Sophie was our teacher and had everyone, including her mother, lined up to show us steps. We worked on waltz first since the official Quince dance was a waltz. Joan and I had done some waltzing in our dance lessons, but we didn’t really have much opportunity to use the step at prom. Still, V1 had taken ballroom dancing and, while rusty, I could comprehend all the instructions. A lot of the moves in a fancy waltz are similar to the moves in salsa dancing—like spins and turns. For that matter, I guess we used some of the same positions in swing dancing. The rhythms are different, though. Waltz is a three-beat even rhythm that stays the same with equal time spent on each foot. Salsa is a four-beat rhythm in which you step to three beats and then rest one. Suffice it to say, there was more than enough to keep us learning for a full two hours.

And then to rotate through partners and dance for another hour. I had to laugh at Dad getting a workout alongside Gomez. I really needed to find out Brittany’s dad’s real name. If I actually called him Gomez, he might get insulted.

Eventually, after dancing with Brittany, Lisa, Joyce, and Pey, I found myself with Sophie in my arms for some real salsa dancing. There are twenty-one forms or moves in salsa dancing and twelve more that are unique to Cuban salsa. The Sophie of V1’s timeframe taught him all thirty-three. And about fifty that we practiced only when horizontal and naked. This Sophie was significantly younger than her sister, Brittany’s mother. I figured in about her early thirties. Mr. and Mrs. Adams were closer to my parents’ age, just over forty. And when Sophie came into my arms, her eyes locked on mine. The intensity of their black depths held me mesmerized. The music started and there was nothing else in the room but my dancing partner. Anything I tried, she followed. Any subtle shift in her posture let me know what she was expecting next and I could lead her effortlessly. We ended the dance in a dip. I held her low, bending over her, our eyes having never broken contact.

“Brittany, you must come and dance a Cuban salsa with Jacob now. Did you notice? The secret was the connection. Let everything else in the room fade away but the music and your partner. Stay focused on him,” Sophie said. She must have realized she was still holding my hand and gave it a quick squeeze before pulling away. Hmm. Was that the kind of signal Rache was telling me to watch for? The signal in my slacks was pretty definite. Even Brittany noticed when she slid into my arms. Her eyes popped wide open and her breast heaved as I looked into her dark brown eyes and winked.

Pey was convinced that she could teach Richard salsa dancing and got frustrated that he wasn’t picking it up fast enough for her satisfaction.

“J! Help me. I want to dance.”

“Got you hooked last night, didn’t they?” I laughed. I’d been holding Rachel in my arms and showing her a few moves, too. “Okay. We’ll have a dance lesson. You guys game?” There was a general assent. “We start the same way you did, Pey. Fundamental waltz steps, just like last night. You can’t expect your partner to know everything you know the first time he tries to dance with you.” Pey huffed a little about having to start over but soon got into the rhythm, so to speak, and we had a good time. Rachel was surprised to find I had a complete selection of Strauss Waltzes on my iPhone playlist and that I could switch to some big band era waltzes as well. There was a subtle difference between the fast formal royal waltzes of Strauss and the slower big band ballroom dances, but we enjoyed them both.

“Now can we do salsa?” Pey begged.

“I think we should save salsa dancing for the next lesson. Aren’t you tired yet? We’ll do salsa steps tomorrow,” I said, flopping in a chair.

“Uh ... not tomorrow,” Rachel said. “Big surprise tomorrow.” I looked at her and she held a finger to her lips. I maneuvered Pey and Richard outside with the lure of my quadcopter. As soon as they had it in the air and were taking remote selfies, I slipped back inside to have a little kiss with Rachel.

“What’s going on tomorrow?” I asked.

“Our mothers have been talking,” she giggled. “It seems our activities are not unknown to the parental units.” I jumped a little.

“You mean they know we are lovers?”

“We haven’t been that subtle about it,” she said. “Anyway, Mom is taking the afternoon off tomorrow and will take Pey and Richard to the waterpark. We can start our Friday night date at about one-thirty. In my bed.”