Humming a Different Tune by Amy Rae Durreson

Author:Amy Rae Durreson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: dance, kindness, wedding, bittersweet, swing dance
Publisher: Amy Rae Durreson

I texted him frantically, phoned, e-mailed, but he didn’t reply. Part of me started panicking over the wedding, but mostly I was worried about Monty.

Monty had shared his heartbreak with me, and kissed me, and I’d managed to accidentally reject him through sheer social ineptitude.

Oh, shit, indeed.

He finally e-mailed me the next morning, with a long and stately apology, which referenced the Tenth Doctor, Jean-Luc Picard, and The Princess Bride. I skimmed through it with a mixture of fondness and shame, and focused in on his final sentence:

I thought we’d been flirting.

I typed, We were. I just didn’t notice.

Then I stopped to think. Did I want this? Kissing Monty had been unexpectedly fantastic, but I wasn’t looking for just physical chemistry. If I wanted to get off, I could drive down to Brighton for the night. It’s amazing what reasonable looks and a fantastic sense of rhythm can lure across the floor in the average nightclub.

I wanted more—what Lucy had, someone to share my life with. If I was going to pursue anything with Monty, it would be with that in mind.

The problem was that I’d been embarrassed when he called to me the night before. I’m not an arsehole. I couldn’t date someone I was too cowardly to be seen with. I liked the man, but it would hurt us both if I couldn’t like him in front of others as well as in private.

I’d been embarrassed before. Try being the quiet twin brother of the most popular girl in the school, or having to go home and admit to everyone that they were right about your sexuality, no matter that you’d spent your teenage years trying to prove that being a dancer didn’t make you gay. I’d performed in front of large audiences, learned how to bow and smile even if we lost, and to get up and keep dancing after a fall.

It wasn’t the same. Coping wasn’t the right answer. I needed to not even be embarrassed to be seen with someone as different as Monty. I needed to believe that being loud, eccentric, and honest was wonderful (which it was, even though I’d never have the nerve to live like that myself).

I lived in a quiet, dull little flat, did a quiet, dull little job, and lived a quiet, dull little life. Sometimes I chafed at it, yeah, but most of the time I just made do. I settled for okay, for good enough. Sitting there, halfway through an excruciatingly awkward e-mail, I wondered how the hell I’d got here. I’d wanted more once, hadn’t I? I’d wanted to see the world, to dance with mad and interesting people in exotic places, to make a difference somehow.

When had the world closed in around me? I was back in my home town, back relying on my sister to provide me with a social life, out, but so discreetly that no one could tell. My equally dull ex had left me, not because of some dramatic falling out, but simply because we bored each other to tears.

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