The Dance
“On the way to somewhere else?” Les frowned. “I guess I should have made my intent clear right away, but it never crossed my mind that you’d think I was going with someone else.”
“I’m sorry.” Mo tried to rally—Les wanted to go the dance with her! But it was hard to feel elated when she felt like an idiot.
“It’s okay. I should have said.” Les stretched her arm across the back of the sofa and leaned forward slightly. “You want to meet me halfway?”
More than anything. Mo grasped Les’s hand. They smiled, slid toward each other, and embraced. Mo buried her face in Les’s shoulder and held her as tightly as she could. If it was up to her, she’d never let go, not until the Chosen Council forced her to.
“I want things to be right between us,” Les murmured.
“Me too.”
Les drew back. “But there’s something you’re not telling me. All of a sudden, you seem to expect the worst from me.”
Not all of a sudden. Mo tried to pull Les close again, hoping she’d drop the subject, but Les wasn’t having it.
“Is it something I’ve said or done? I’ve tried to figure it out, but I can’t think of anything. I don’t understand why you were so willing to listen to Patty. Or why you thought I’d move on to someone else so quickly.” Les looked away. “It hurts . . . that you think I could do that.”
“I don’t. I mean, not really. I mean . . .” Mo trailed off. She’d have to tell Les. It wouldn’t be fair to let Les think she’d done something wrong, nor did she want to lie to her. Maybe things would be easier if Les knew. Or maybe she’d completely embarrass herself and Les would have a change of heart about reconciling. But at least she’d have told the truth and admitted what nagged at her deep down, instead of hiding behind Patty and everyone else like her. After the mess she’d made of things, she owed Les that much. “It’s not you. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
Les met Mo’s eyes. “No?”
“No.” Mo reached for Les, feeling awkward and shy. It would be easier if Les wasn’t looking at her. She relaxed ever so slightly when Les didn’t protest and she felt the warmth of Les’s cheek against hers, but only for a second. She stared over Les’s shoulder at a point on the paneling in the hallway. “Patty did say we act like Chosens, when we aren’t.”
“I figured. We’re not doing anything wrong, you know. Our Chosen Papers are a long way off.”
“I know. But that’s not all she said.” Mo hesitated. Once it was out, she couldn’t take it back. “She said that you want to date others, but you’re too kind to tell me. That I should give you some freedom, let you out of your cage.”
Les shook with laughter. “Yes, Patty’s an expert on what I want.”
“It’s not funny!”
Les started to pull back, but Mo held onto her. Fortunately, Les seemed to understand; she rested her chin on Mo’s shoulder and took one of Mo’s hands. “You believed her,” she said, her voice tinged with surprise. “I don’t understand. I’m not even friends with Patty. She hardly knows me. Why would you believe anything she says about me?”
Fleeing the room crossed Mo’s mind, but it was too late for second thoughts. “Because sometimes I think the same things myself. About you wanting to date others.”
Silence. Uncomfortable silence.
Mo quickly filled it. “I should have talked to you. But Patty . . . I don’t know—I guess all my doubts came out and I panicked.”
No response.
“You’re mad at me.”
“No,” Les said, so softly that Mo wouldn’t have heard her if Les had been farther away.
“You’re awfully quiet.”
“I’m thinking. Look, none of what Patty said is true. None of it.” Les paused. “I couldn’t care less about Patty and her lies. But these doubts—you said I haven’t said or done anything wrong, but I must have done something to make you feel the way you do.”
“You haven’t done anything.”
“Then I don’t understand!” Les’s hold on Mo’s hand tightened.
“We’re different.”
Les chuckled. “I know that.”
“Physically.”
Les sighed. “Mo, you’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. What does this have to do with anything?”
“You’re tall and slim. And you have a nice figure. Everyone thinks you’re pretty.” Mo felt Les’s smile against her cheek.
“Stop trying to distract me,” Les said. “Now, come on. Tell me what’s bothering you.”
Mo pulled back in frustration. Why was Les being so dense? She gripped Les’s arms and looked right into her eyes. “Les, you’re pretty and I’m not. You’re tall, I’m not. You have a chest. The girls like you. They flirt with you all the time. You can date anyone you want. How long before you decide you want someone who looks better on your arm than I do? I mean, when we first got together, sure, you were already taller and more graceful than me, but not to the extent that you are now. A lot has changed in three years. You’re beautiful. And I . . .” Mo let go of Les’s arms and dropped her hands to her lap. “I’m nothing special.”
“That’s what this is about?” Les hugged Mo, planted a kiss on her cheek, and hugged her again.
Mo didn’t protest. She threw her arms around Les’s neck and buried her face in Les’s shoulder, feeling vulnerable, and silly, and apprehensive.
“I want to be with you,” Les said, giving Mo a squeeze.
“Yeah,” Mo replied, “this is when you’ll tell me I have a great personality.”
“Well, you do! And as far as I’m concerned, you’re the best-looking girl at the academy.”
Mo snorted.
“You’re the only girl I’ve ever wanted to kiss. And touch.”
“With everyone after you, how long will that last? Someone flirts with you almost every day.”
“They’re not interested in me the way you are.”
“Yes, they are. They’d all love to be with you. They’d take my place in a second.”
“I don’t think so. I doubt they want what we have.”
“They flirt with you right under my nose!”