Beauty and the Besharam by Lillie Vale

Author:Lillie Vale [Vale, Lillie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2022-05-24T00:00:00+00:00

18.

Only One of Us Can Lead

“ARE YOU SURE this is, uh, strictly necessary?” I try to keep as much space between our bodies as possible as Ian spins me around to the instrumental version of “A Whole New World.”

Since my Scrabble victory, getting off on the right foot with myself in the lead 2–1, there’s been a wrong-footedness between me and Ian. It lingers like a stink, but I can’t tell where it’s coming from. It’s amorphous and intangible, just a feeling that something’s not quite right.

Maybe part of that wrongness stems from how hard it is not to feel clunky and ox-footed when you’re in Ian’s arms. For learning purposes, obviously. We’re at the Playhouse rehearsing for the Grimaldi Castle party, and it couldn’t be going worse.

“Hands-on practice is the best way to learn theory,” Ian says with a poker face.

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one wearing this.” I hope my speaking glance down at my Mermaid Princess costume conveys it all.

“Better than a tail,” Ian says diplomatically.

Once, I thought this dress would be preferable to the tail and seashell bra, but I’ve come to revise my opinion on this puff of cotton candy: My pink dress, replete with frothy white tulle and intricate bodice beadwork, is a breath too tight, the bodice digging into my ribs. My breasts squeeze together and swell over the top. The shoulders are poufy, with long, skin-tight sleeves that cling to my clammy arms even with the AC on. And my feet hurt and I’m pretty sure I have blisters on the backs of both ankles.

“Joshi,” says Ian, raising an eyebrow. “Only one of us can lead.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to take over. I don’t know how that happened.”

“Just came naturally, huh?”

I start to bristle at the dig before I realize he’s teasing me.

The truth is, while he’s taken to the waltz like he was born to the rhythm of “one, two, three,” I’m a fish out of water, literally floundering in his arms, except for when, apparently, I accidentally try to lead. Five other couples move around us, and Ian’s agility and grace are the only reason we don’t blunder into them.

Samer gives me an encouraging smile as our eyes meet across the room. It’s a tight squeeze for all twelve of us, plus Poppy, who’s prowling the perimeter with a watchful eye. Samer’s Snow White does cotillion, so she’s skilled enough to make him look like he knows what he’s doing on our makeshift dance floor.

I hurl him a Save me! look over her shoulder, but Samer pretends not to see, whisking them both out of my eyeline.

Ian’s fiendishly warm palm presses into the small of my back, bringing me closer. “Oof.”

I wince. Though he tries to keep his voice low, it’s obvious I’ve just stepped on his feet for what feels like the hundredth time. “Sorry. I was hopeless at bharatanatyam as a kid, too.”

He cocks his head. “What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s Indian classical dance. Your family came and saw me perform once.

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