Page 15 of Flirty Dancing

15

Leave Your Shit at the Door

“Welcome to Shady Queens!” Francisco’s voice boomed. “We hope your passports are up-to-date, because tonight, we take you around the world! Our first stop is the land of snow and Tim Hortons, poutine and Celine Dion, cowboys and Shania Twain—our friendly neighbors to the north. Welcome to Canada!” “Man! I Feel Like a Woman!” began blasting. It was time to line dance. Archer straightened his bandana, and off they went.

The first song went… okay. A few awkward gaps in the lines, though he doubted anyone in the audience could tell. Beau and Seta’s two-step was bumpy in places, but hopefully there were enough twirling, bedazzled dancers all around that no one noticed.

The Ukrainian dancing went smoothly; they only had to space out more in their circles where Ben and Caleb would have been, and those two weren’t in the cancan at all, so that went according to plan.

Capoeira was tricky—Archer was used to facing off against Caleb, but instead it was Dominik, and they weren’t quite in sync. The number was fast-paced, with dancers darting off and onto the stage, and when Archer spun into the wings, he found himself face-to-face with the missing hikers.

“Oh my God, you’re alright!” He grabbed Caleb for a hug.

Caleb hugged tightly back. He smelled like dust and sweat. “I’m so sorry. We went too far and got a little lost.”

“But you’re okay?” Archer pulled back to examine him.

“I’m okay… or rather, I will be until Mateo kills me. How mad is he?”

“You asshole!” Mateo growled as he leaped offstage.

“Pretty mad,” Archer said.

“I swear to God, Caleb,” Mateo spat, “you’d better have been fucking kidnapped—”

“We got lost, Mateo. I’m really sorry—”

“Ben!” Beau twirled up. “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? What happened?”

“We got a bit turned around—” Ben began.

“Ah. You’ve been ‘lost’ in the woods with Caleb all day, then? How nice for you!”

Ben’s eyes widened. “What?”

Archer heard his cue so he danced back out, smiling, the sounds of the argument swallowed by the music.

At the end of the capoeira routine, there was a belly dancing number that only Seta, Grace, Iris, and Nijah performed. Archer hustled to the greenroom. Caleb and Ben were changing into their jive costumes.

“… unbelievably thoughtless,” Mateo was ranting, face red. “You said I could be pissed if you missed the show, and guess what? I’m pissed! I asked one thing of you—one fucking thing—and you fucked it up. You had to go traipsing off into the woods like a pair of selfish—”

“Mateo,” Archer interrupted. “It was just a mistake.”

“I know it was a mistake, Archer!” Mateo cried, rounding on him. “I’m sick of mistakes! Am I the only one who cares?”

“I care,” Archer said. “We all care. But mistakes happen.”

“You should know all about that, Mateo,” Caleb sneered.

“Caleb,” Archer snapped. “Now is not the time.”

Caleb turned to the mirror, examining his vest, feigning indifference.

Archer looked back and forth between Caleb and Mateo, who was red-faced and seething. “Can we dance for now, and talk about this after?”

“Fine,” Mateo growled. “Let’s go fucking jive.”

Archer rubbed his forehead. “Sounds like a plan.”

It was not the most lighthearted jive Archer had ever danced. The performers’ smiles were strained at best. Beau barely bothered to attempt one, Mateo’s looked a little manic, and Caleb flat-out sulked throughout.

Bollywood, the final number, wasn’t any better. What was meant to be a joyful dance filled with love and acceptance was more a simmering mess of bitterness and resentment. It was no surprise that the argument picked up right where it left off when the show ended.

“I cannot believe you think I chose to be late!” Ben began the instant they were backstage.

“You chose to spend the day alone in the forest with Caleb and—oops—totally lost track of time!”

“We looked like a bunch of fucking amateurs out there,” Mateo seethed, wrenching off his translucent shoulder wrap. Archer normally would have let his eyes linger on Mateo’s deltoids, but not now.

“Look,” Betty said, placing her hands on Mateo’s and Beau’s arms. “Tempers are obviously high right now. Why doesn’t everyone go take a breather, grab some food, and come back feeling a little better? By eight on the nose!” she added, seeing the words forming on Mateo’s lips.

“Fine,” Mateo sniffed.

“Fine,” Caleb huffed.

“Fine. Fine. Fine,” everyone else agreed.

After they had changed, Caleb took Archer’s hand and pulled him out the door, but not before he got a glimpse of Mateo huddling in the corner with Stewart.

“Fuck,” Caleb sighed once they got outside. “We really didn’t mean to be late.”

“I know,” Archer said.

“We were fucking running the last hour trying to make it. My legs are done.”

“You must have gone really far.”

“I guess.” Caleb shrugged. “It was such a nice day. We just walked and talked.”

“Well, hopefully you had a good time.”

“We did.”

The feeling that something was going unsaid nagged at Archer, but he had no idea what it might be. “Wonder what Mateo and Stewart are talking about?” he asked instead.

“Undoubtedly, what horrible slackers we all are,” Caleb said, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t you think Mateo has a point, though?”

Caleb made a noise of derision. “This is your first summer, Archer. Mateo’s too. Trust me when I say, things are going fine. The audience is a bunch of drunk people on vacation. They’re happy no matter what.”

“Why do you come back here every year?” Archer wondered, the question falling out unplanned. Archer knew Caleb was on his fourth season at Shady Queens, taught dance in the Bronx the rest of the year, and had been in the chorus of a few unsuccessful Off Broadway shows. But Caleb gave vague answers to most other questions about his life and didn’t share an abundance of inner thoughts. In many ways, Archer felt like he barely knew him.

Caleb shrugged. “It’s fun. Hot guys.” He grinned at Archer. “Decent money for all the partying we do. Why, aren’t you having fun?”

“Yeah, I’m having fun, it’s just…” Without warning, tears sprang to his eyes. He was thankful they were walking and not looking at each other. “This is sort of it for me.” For my dream. He couldn’t get those last words to come out. “I want to do well.”

“Aw.” Caleb slid his arm around Archer. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You are doing well, and, I promise, it’s nothing to get worked up about.”

It is, though he wanted to say, but Caleb clearly didn’t understand. “Thanks,” he managed instead in a strangled voice.

“I wish Mateo would get off my back, though,” Caleb griped. “He’s practically ruining the summer.”

“He has high standards.”

“What, I’m not up to Mateo’s standards?”

Archer shook his head, throat still tight. “That’s not what I’m saying, I mean—”

“It’s fine.” Caleb cut him off and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I’m hungry and tired. I need to sit down and eat like five steaks.”

“Okay. Let’s get you those steaks.”

Dinner was a subdued affair—they occupied their usual table and didn’t talk much, with no sign of Ben or Beau. When they filtered back into the theater right on time, raised voices carried to them from the greenroom.

“That’s it! I’m done!” It was Ben’s words they could make out first.

“Uh oh,” Archer muttered. They followed the sound of the shouting and inched into the greenroom. The B-Boys were facing off next to a makeup table in their cowboy gear.

“Looks like there’s about to be a shootout,” Dominik whispered behind his hand.

“Shut up!” Betty hissed, jabbing her elbow into his side.

“I’m done !” Ben repeated, ignoring the audience entirely. “I can’t do this anymore, Beau! You either trust me, or you don’t, and clearly you don’t. It’s over! We are over.”

Archer was embarrassed that he gasped aloud until he realized they all had.

“Oh, shit,” Dominik murmured.

Beau bit his lip and cast his eyes up to the ceiling, shaking his head. “You can’t mean it.”

“I mean it.” Ben made a slashing motion with his hand. “It’s over.”

Beau burst into tears and ran from the room.

“Ah, fuck,” Mateo said.

Betty and Grace hurried after Beau.

“I am not dancing with him!” Beau shrieked from the hall.

“I’m not dancing with him, either!” Ben yelled back.

Mateo threw his hands up. “I fucking quit.”

“It’s okay,” Archer said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s get back to the whiteboard.”

Mateo didn’t budge, shaking his head.

“Come on.” Archer tugged at his arm. “We figured it out once. We can do it again.”

Or so he hoped.

Archer’s buzzing phone pulled him out of his sleep late the next morning. It was a text from Betty. He had missed a few messages in the group chat, too. You’d better get down to the theater .

Fuck. Last night’s late show came back to him like a nightmare. The crying and sniping backstage. The red eyes and glaring onstage. The collision between Grace and Betty. Caleb tired after his day lost on the mountain, missing several cues, and jumping half the height he normally did. They had pulled off the show, Archer supposed, but it wasn’t pretty. No one said much when it was over, melting away to their respective bedrooms to lick their wounds. Beau didn’t come back to their room at all, and Ben refused to say a word to anyone. Archer didn’t know what was waiting at the theater now, but it couldn’t be good.

Still, he was not expecting to find Stewart in the same turquoise suit he’d had on last night, sprawled like a sea star in the middle of the stage. Judy sniffed his hand and wagged her tail. He was making a low groaning noise. Archer joined the dancers standing in a loose circle around him. There was no panic on anyone’s face, only resignation.

“What’s wrong?” Archer murmured to Mateo.

Mateo scrubbed a hand through his hair. “We got a bad review.”

“We—A review? People review this show?”

“Well, not really. I guess someone posted about Around the World last night. Said it was, uh… sloppy, stale—”

“Sloppy!” Stewart wailed at the rafters. “And stale .”

“And—”

“— not worth the ten-dollar cocktail .”

Archer cringed. “Oof.”

“That’s it, my darlings!” Stewart continued. “I’ve had it. Time to put old Stewart Harpham-Lale out to pasture. I’m sorry, Judy, I’m no good to you now. You’ll need to find your own way.”

Judy let out a plaintive yip.

“It’s not your fault, Stewart,” Mateo sighed. “It’s mine.”

“It’s not your fault, Mateo—” Archer started.

“Why are you so nice to him?” Caleb cut in from across the circle. “He’s such a dick to you.”

“He’s not a dick,” Archer started to say at the same time Mateo protested.

“No one asked you, Caleb.”

Caleb glared back, hands on hips. “Oh, but someone asked you?”

Mateo’s chest inflated. “Stewart did, actually.”

“Give me a break. You’re not the boss here!”

Mateo laughed, a humorless bark. “You’re really going to go with ‘you’re not the boss of me’?”

“Alright!” Archer yelled, cutting off the arguing. “We can all agree that the show last night sucked. Right? It was sloppy. We know we can do better. As far as stale goes—what if we made some changes?”

Stewart flopped his head over toward Archer. “What kind of changes?” he asked in a small voice. “Please, tell me, sweet Archer.”

“What if we… put in some acro? Cirque du Soleil–type stuff. You know, from Canada, maybe instead of the line dancing.”

Stewart sat up.

“I did a lot of acro as a kid, and I think Caleb did, too. Anyone else?” he asked the troupe. About half of the hands went up, including Ben’s and Beau’s, as they sulked.

“We don’t need to change anything.” Mateo stepped forward, glowering. “The show is fine. It’s gotten messy, is all, which I’ve been saying for weeks. And one person with too much time on their hands didn’t like the choreo. We don’t need to do anything drastic.”

“Hmm.” Stewart sniffled.

“What we need is for everyone to show up on time, leave their personal shit at the door, and give it their all every night.”

There was some awkward shuffling as the group studied their feet. Archer’s ego stung a little at the way Mateo had shut him down, but otherwise it was hard to argue.

Mateo helped Stewart clamber to his feet. “Everyone back here for a rehearsal at one,” he announced, trying to brush the wrinkles out of Stewart’s suit.

“Yes, Mateo. You’re absolutely right.” Stewart sighed. He bent to pick up Judy and stroked her shiny fur. “Let’s see if we can’t tidy some things up.”

They mumbled their agreement. Beau and Ben studiously ignored each other while Caleb and Mateo glared across the circle. It was going to be a long day.

Archer slipped out of the theater on his own, not really feeling up for conversing with anyone yet. But he was only a few steps up the path when someone called his name.

Eileen waved at him from a bench down a branching pathway. “Archer!” she said as he approached. “Good morning.”

“Morning, Ms. Lamb.” In the silence that followed, he knew they were both thinking about the shit show last night.

But Eileen just cocked her head and smiled from under her peach-colored sun hat. “Did you ask Mateo about coming for tea?”

“Oh, um… yeah, things have been kind of crazy the past few days.”

“Hmm, yes, I noticed the missing bodies last night, and all the new partners. Not to mention the unhappy faces.”

Yup, Eileen really didn’t miss a thing. “Yes, er… Mateo said he would check his schedule…” Archer trailed off lamely.

She nodded. “I understand. If he changes his mind, I’m always available. Even if you don’t want to talk dance, I’d love to whip up some raspberry scones for you.”

Archer’s heart warmed. “Thank you, Ms. Lamb. You’re too kind.”

She patted his hand. “I know how it is, when things don’t quite work out how you planned.”

“What do you mean?” he asked her.

She gave him a knowing look. “Another time, perhaps. I saw Mr. Harpham-Lale in the audience last night, so I imagine you have rehearsal to get to. You have a good day, Archer.”

Archer grabbed a salad to go from the dining hall and took it down to the lake to eat by himself. There was a small sandy patch tucked into a copse of trees not far from the theater where he could flop onto a log and have a few moments of quiet. He studied the lake as he chewed, sunlight jumping off its surface in sharp white sparkles, the distant happy shouts from the main beach and chattering birds washing over him in a soothing medley. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath while the warm summer breeze played with his hair. Breathe , he reminded himself.

Things had felt off with Caleb since the hike, but he chalked it up to the mess the show had been last night. Archer figured once things settled down, it would feel normal with Caleb again. After all, their relationship was meant to be light and fun, not something to stress over. He finished his salad and took a few more deep breaths before gathering himself and heading back to the theater.

The whiteboard was out when Archer got back early, and it looked like Mateo and Stewart had mapped out all six of their shows with new partners so Beau and Ben wouldn’t have to dance together. Mateo was standing back, gaze flitting over the board.

“Did you get a chance to eat?” Archer asked him, studying the names for tonight’s show.

Mateo nodded. “I had an apple.”

“Okay. Make sure you have a proper dinner before we go on, though.”

Mateo sighed, idly popping the cap off and on a whiteboard marker. “I don’t need you to look after me, Archer.”

Archer blinked. “I’m not looking after you, I just…” The words care about you died on his tongue. “I’m only trying to help.”

Mateo plunked the marker down on the ledge and ran a hand over his hair. “I know. Sorry.”

Archer opened his mouth to say it was okay, but Mateo turned on his heel and marched off, saying something about needing to talk to Stewart. Archer watched him go. Okay. He really doesn’t like me. Time to let it go, Arch.

Caleb popped up beside him and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Hey. I didn’t see you at lunch.”

“Hi. Yeah, I needed a little quiet time. Things have been…” He looked around, shrugging.

“I get it,” Caleb said, taking his hand and kissing his knuckles. “It’s going to be okay.”

They were startled by a gasp from Betty. Her eyes were wide as she gaped at the backstage door.

Archer whirled. What now?

Ben and Beau stood in the door. Holding hands.

Archer’s jaw dropped.

“Yeah…” Ben said. “We’re back together.”

Beau grimaced. “Sorry.”

There was a thump as Mateo dropped a box of medical tape. “Are you f—” he started.

“We know,” Ben said sheepishly. “We are so sorry for all the drama.”

Beau slid his arm around Ben’s waist. “We had a good talk and worked some things out. And we’re really sorry.”

There was a beat of shocked silence, then another.

“Excellent!” Stewart said. “Well, we have things figured out for the next time you break up, don’t we? Mateo, did you write down our plan? In the meantime”—he breezed right over Ben and Beau’s protests—“let’s run through tonight’s show, shall we? From the top!”