Page 18 of Flirty Dancing

18

It Teeters and It Totters

Caleb was huddled in the corner of the greenroom with Ben and Grace when Archer and Betty came in after dinner. The three heads whipped over, each giving Archer their own version of a death glare.

“Shit,” he murmured under his breath.

Betty patted his arm. “It’ll be fine. This isn’t high school, remember?”

“Sure feels that way.” About half of the troupe were apparently Team Caleb and had gone full-on silent treatment, when they weren’t whispering behind their hands as he walked by.

“It’s okay, Caleb,” Grace said loudly enough for Archer to hear when he went over to his locker. “You deserve someone who treats you right.”

Archer flipped through his costumes with a heavy sigh. He would just have to rise above the histrionics. He had a job to do. Time to shake it off.

Mateo came over. “You okay?”

Archer shrugged. “I suppose.”

“Do you mind if I ask…” Mateo leaned in and dropped his voice. “… what happened?”

Archer bit his lip as he considered how much to say. “Something was off, and I couldn’t ignore it anymore.”

“What was he so mad about? When he yelled that… stuff?”

“Oh.” Archer gave an awkward chuckle and pulled his Latin costume off its hanger. “Nothing. It was—I told him I didn’t like the way he treated other people.” He flushed. “You, that is.”

“Oh.”

“So he took the leap to… Well, you heard him.”

“Oh.” Mateo said again. He fiddled with the hangers on the rack, ensuring they were evenly spaced out. “I appreciate you standing up for me, but I hope you didn’t…”

“I didn’t break up with him for you, if that’s what you’re saying.”

“No, of course not.”

Archer’s face heated. “Caleb and I weren’t the right fit. That’s all.”

“Okay, good.” The hangers could not have been more perfectly spaced.

“Good.”

“Good. I’d better get dressed.”

Archer watched him go. The glares of Team Caleb followed Mateo, too. “Ugh.” He looked over at Betty at the makeup table, acting like she wasn’t listening. “What were you saying about high school?”

“Sorry.” She cringed. “It’ll get better?”

“Right.”

By the time they were due in the wings for their tango, Archer’s head was all over the place. He had to focus. He could not afford to waste any more time being substandard on that stage. Someone important could be in the audience any night, and he’d lost sight of that. As Francisco’s announcement reverberated, Archer blew out a breath and looked across the stage to where Mateo waited, searching for his steadying gaze. And there it was. Their eyes locked. Mateo’s chest rose and fell in a deep breath as he nodded. You’ve got this.

Archer copied him, the burst of oxygen helping steady his pulse. I’ve got this.

Their music started. Archer began his slow walk out. Mateo’s eyes were twin black coals, burning at him across the stage. As their hands met in the first hold, a pulse of electricity swept over him—a charge he hadn’t felt with Mateo in weeks. Goose bumps prickled every inch of his skin.

Their chemistry was back. Their duet simmered with a new intensity—the turns were sharper than ever, each hold tighter, each foot and hand caress oozing with seduction. Mateo’s scent surrounded him, a heady cloud of man and forest. A flame of arousal flickered in Archer’s gut. Sweat beaded on his skin as they approached the tango’s climax.

They struck their finishing pose as the next duet began downstage, and Archer had never before wanted so badly to keep dancing. But there was nothing to do but tango offstage, heart pounding, mouth dry. Betty gave him a knowing smirk from where she waited for her entrance.

“That felt good,” Archer said to Mateo after chugging from his water bottle. “The dance, I mean. It felt good. We were good. At dancing.”

“Yeah.” Mateo wiped his forehead with a towel. “That was really good.”

Their second show was even better. Archer smiled at Mateo after, feeling a million times lighter than he had before. “Thank you,” he said to Mateo.

“For what?” Mateo asked, pausing his towel to meet Archer’s gaze.

Archer resisted the urge to lean in and kiss Mateo’s cheek. “For being there for me.”

Mateo’s eyes flashed with an unnamed emotion. “Always.”

“Please, could you two be any more obvious?” Caleb’s voice cut in from behind him, dripping with derision.

Archer whirled.

“For fuck’s sake, Caleb,” Mateo said, before Archer could say anything.

Caleb smirked. “Defending your boyfriend? Cute.”

“Archer is not my boyfriend, but yes, I am defending him, because you’re acting like a child.”

Caleb rolled his eyes. “Oh no, am I in trouble again, Father?”

“Caleb—” Archer tried.

Caleb narrowed his eyes at Archer. “What part of ‘fuck off’ were you having trouble with? Don’t even talk to me.”

“I can hardly blame Archer for breaking up with someone as petty and immature as you,” Mateo snarled. “I’m only surprised it took him as long as it did.”

Caleb’s face crumpled. He turned and all but ran away.

“Fuck.” Mateo put his hands on his hips, expression twisted with regret. “I’m supposed to be connecting with him.”

A laugh burst out of Archer.

Mateo’s lips quirked. “What? What’s so funny?”

But Archer was already laughing too hard to reply.

Mateo started to chuckle, then guffaw along with Archer. It wasn’t long until the two of them were roaring.

“Oh, shit,” Archer gasped when he was able to speak again. “I’m so sorry. It’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

Archer gave up, and they laughed and laughed until they were breathless.

By the time Archer and Mateo got back to the greenroom, Team Caleb had cleared out. It was a nice break from the suffocating contempt, but he wondered what he would find when he got back to the dorm. An image flashed to mind of all of his belongings strewn about the lawn.

Fortunately, the lawn was as tidy as ever when he trudged up the path, but his room was even tidier—Caleb’s stuff had been cleared out. Ben and Beau were there getting ready to head out.

“Where did he go?” Archer asked. He was expecting ice from Ben, so he directed his question at Beau, but Ben replied without any animosity.

“His friend Steve has an extra bed in his room.”

“Ah, yes. Good old Steve.” Archer sighed, wondering why that hadn’t been a huge red flag six weeks ago, and how much of an idiot he actually was. He flopped on his bed and pulled out his phone. A message from Lynn waited—just a lawyer meme. Archer sent a laughing emoji, then figured he might as well tell her. Caleb and I broke up, he sent. He was being such a dick about Mateo. I couldn’t keep ignoring it.

She replied right away. Aw, shit. I’m sorry, Arch. You doing okay?

Yeah… Caleb’s pretty pissed though. Might be awkward for a while.

Hopefully he gets over it quickly. Now what were you saying about Mateo?

Nothing! Nothing about Mateo.

If you say so. Seems like he might help you get over the breakup, just saying.

He could just imagine the sly expression on Lynn’s face. How’s Sasha?

She is THE BEST. So amazing, in fact, that now I’m even more nervous to propose to her!

Archer sighed and leaned back against his pillow. He was so happy for Lynn, but her happiness only served to highlight the shit he was mired in, and, tonight at least, he couldn’t deal.

“You okay?” Beau asked. “Breakups are hard.”

“I will be. I only wish Caleb wasn’t so upset.”

“He’ll be fine,” Ben said. “He just needs a couple days to get over it.”

“Is five days still ‘a couple’?” Archer asked tiredly. He was sprawled on his bed after Saturday’s show. It had been an exceedingly long week, Caleb’s vitriol only growing each day.

“I think he’s feeling better,” Ben said, combing his hair in the mirror.

“Do you?” Archer propped himself up on an elbow. “Yesterday he kicked me—literally kicked me—in the capoeira, plus I’m sure he hid my greaser jacket, and today he knocked my water onto my plate at dinner.”

“Those could have been accidents.”

“Yeah? He also flipped me off when I complimented his cabriole.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. ‘Oh.’” Archer flopped back onto his pillow.

“Look, he was really upset. It’s hard getting dumped, especially when you can’t escape the other person at all. Maybe he needs a bit more time.”

“God, I hope so.”

“And, worst case, we’re only here for another five weeks.”

“Right.” Archer rubbed his eyes. That sounded like a really long fucking time to him.

A blond head poked into the room. “Archer!” Betty sang.

“Oh, there is no way in hell I’m going to Game Night.” He pulled his pillow over his head.

She laughed and yanked the pillow away. “Come on! What are you going to do, hide in your room the rest of the summer? If you can dance with him, you can play a game with him.”

“He kicked me!”

“I saw,” she admitted.

“So in what world is Caleb going to sit there and happily play a game with me?”

She shrugged and tugged at Archer’s hand. “That’s his problem, then.”

“No, it will undoubtedly be mine.”

Betty gave him her best puppy dog eyes.

Archer groaned. “What’s the game?”

“It’s the Jenga tournament.”

He sat up. “Sorry, the Jenga… tournament?”

“Yeah, it’s super fun! You have to come! Everyone will be there.”

“Fine,” he moaned. “But I’m only going for you.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “That’ll do.”

“Listen up!” Dominik waved his arms at the four waiting Jenga towers. “Standard Jenga rules apply. You may use only one hand at a time to remove the blocks, and if you were the last one to touch the tower before it falls, you lose. We start in four random pools of four players. You knock the tower over, you get a point. After an hour, the pools are reshuffled into top four, next four, et cetera, based on points. Then you play again in your new group, same rules, then each pool has a winner. Any questions? Didn’t think so. Play nice, children.”

Dominik had everyone’s names ready in a hat to make the groups, and Archer was somehow not surprised in the least when he ended up in a pool with Mateo and Caleb. He glared at Betty when their group was called.

Sorry , she mouthed.

Archer sighed and sat next to their assigned tower.

Dominik was their fourth and was chuckling and shaking his head as he joined them. “Well, well. What a group. Can you guys handle this?”

Archer, Mateo, and Caleb all glared at Dominik.

“Perfect,” he smiled. “I’ll go first.”

Dominik kept up most of the easy chatter at first, and, despite himself, Archer started to enjoy the game. Jenga was simple yet fun, and smiles slowly started to crack through the cranky facades each time the tower fell. Even Mateo seemed to be enjoying himself, chuckles escaping at Dominik’s antics, and he even winked at Archer when Caleb knocked the tower down.

They had been playing for almost an hour and the Jenga intensity had ramped up. Each person had three or four points, so everything was hinging on the last game.

Caleb was taking his turn, tongue poking out as he removed a piece from near the very bottom with great precision.

Archer held his breath as the tower swayed, then steadied.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got, Dominik,” Caleb crowed. “You—and this tower—are about to go down.”

Archer grinned, waiting for Dominik’s joke about going down, but Dominik was staring at this phone.

“Dom! It’s your turn!” Caleb prodded.

Dominik frowned without tearing his eyes away from the screen. “One sec.”

“Excuse me, judges,” Archer joked, “what’s the rule about stalling? The tower isn’t going to get any less wobbly while you wait!”

Dominik’s eyes grew wider as he read. “What the fuck…” he muttered.

“What is it?” Archer asked.

“My friend sent me this… It’s a link to The Broadway Broad .”

“Ugh, that garbage?” Even relatively new to the scene, Archer knew The Broadway Broad was a trashy gossip site that posted mostly sensationalized news and sketchy rumors about Broadway shows and their stars. It was very popular in the industry, even though no one wanted to admit that they read it.

“Oh, shit.” Dominik swallowed hard and looked up. “I’m sorry, Mateo.”

Mateo stiffened. “Just tell me.”

Betty noticed the serious faces, and her group turned to listen, too.

Dominik began to read. “‘Mateo Dixon, disgraced star of Robin’s Egg and all-around terrible person, has been spotted center stage at Shady Queens, the premier upstate LGBTQ+ resort and perennial favorite of this publication’s readers.’”

Archer’s stomach dropped. Mateo sat frozen, face unreadable, hands clutching his thighs. The group on the other side of them was listening now, too.

Dominik continued. “‘A source tells us he’s up to his old tricks, being rude to castmates and thinking he’s all that, but, wait until you hear what really went down with him and Abby Hodge before he firebombed his career.’”

Archer’s jaw dropped.

Mateo’s eyes swung over to meet his.

“‘Our source informed us that Mateo told Abby she was a terrible actress and only got the role because she was trans.’”

“What…?” Archer’s brain raced to make sense of what was happening.

“‘And,’” Dominik read on, “‘to this day, he blames all of his horrifying behavior on the death of his parents. Way to avoid taking any responsibility at all, Mateo! No wonder you got fired. Who would want to work with you?’”

“Stop.” Mateo’s command was flat and low. But his face… the look of utter devastation—it was a knife to Archer’s gut. Every eye in the room was on Mateo now. He stood and took a slow step away from the couch, then another, like he wasn’t sure his legs were going to continue holding him up.

Archer stood too, his stomach trying to claw its way up his throat. “It wasn’t me! I didn’t talk to them!”

Mateo continued his measured walk to the back stairs.

“Mateo, please! I would never—” Archer followed, desperate to make Mateo understand. “I didn’t tell anyone, I—” It hit him. He did, though. He did tell someone.

He swept his gaze over to Caleb. Caleb met it head-on, defiant.

“You? Caleb… how could you?” Archer’s stomach heaved like it was considering unloading its contents.

Caleb’s face was stone.

Archer turned and chased Mateo to the bottom of the stairs. “I’m so sorry, Mateo. I didn’t mean to, I was—”

Mateo paused halfway up. He turned around. Their eyes met again, and the hurt Archer saw in them broke his heart. “Stop, Archer. Please… stop.” Then he turned back, and was gone, swallowed by the darkness above.

Tears flooded Archer’s eyes. His brain pinwheeled in a hundred directions while his stomach twisted into a thousand knots. A tear spilled down his cheek, then he spun and bolted out the back door, letting his feet take him wherever they wanted to go.