"Hi, I'm Ray, I'm here for a dance class." I said, painfully aware my trepidation was already showing in my demeanor and voice.
"Awesome, your teacher will be waiting for you down the hall in the red room on your right. Enjoy!"
The ceiling in the hall was lit in sunset orange colors that made the atmosphere feel unusually sensual. I looked down at myself and noticed that the white parts of my clothes glowed. Walking into the small dance studio, I saw a couple of students stretching and warming up with mats on the floor.
"Hey there, you must be Ray." I was stunned by her outfit. It was small shorts basically as small as underwear, it was red and sparkling. She smiled and held out her hand for me to shake. She was a few inches taller than me, which surprised me because I was used to being the taller one at five foot seven. She beckoned me forward, and helped me get a mat and pick out a pair of dancing heels.
While warming up beside her I adjusted to the feeling of the room. Jo was easy to feel comfortable around. She laughed often and never made me feel embarrassed whenever I did something wrong. There was a sexual aspect to the type of dance steps we did. I found myself blushing a bit as I tried to perform them. Jo was endlessly encouraging. Every so often she would put her hands on my back to steady me or tilt my head in the right direction for the move.
I knew on the first day that the excitement I felt after learning a move would make this class worth it. I bonded with the other students and felt more confident with my body every day. Jo was often a tough teacher; she refused to let any of us give less than a hundred percent. It was like she knew what we were all capable of and the kind of encouragement we needed. She often felt more like a peer than a teacher, with her short pixie hair, tattoos, and jokes. Soon, Jo and I got into the habit of talking after every class while I helped her put away the equipment.
One day following an energized class, my car wouldn't start. I sat there for several minutes hitting my head on the steering wheel in frustration. I was startled when Jo knocked on my window.
"Is everything alright?" Jo asked, but I could barely hear her through my car. I stepped out and groaned in frustration.
"My car won't start."
"Shit. Do you need a ride home?"
"Oh, you really don't have to-"
"Nonsense", she shrugged. "Your car isn't working, my car will work just fine. Let me take you home Ray."
I didn't have a good enough reason to argue against her so I got in her car. But I was embarrassed. Even though Jo and I had talked several times, this felt different. This was the first time when we were alone together, with no possible distractions.
"How'd you get into being a dancer?" I asked, trying to start a conversation.
"Believe it or not it was because I watched Dirty Dancing. I fell in love, that movie worships dance, and I watched it over and over as a kid. Then I begged my mom for dance lessons. It was really hard at first, but as soon as I knew I could improve, I was addicted." Her eyes lit up a bit as she talked about it, and she kept glancing over to make sure I was listening.
"I don't think I've actually seen Dirty Dancing."
She actually gasped.
