Free Crazygirl Falls in Love by Alexandra Wnuk

voice
softens,
    “Well, maybe he’s not the worst type of player, you know,
those Charles Manson types who enjoy stringing girls along until
they turn them into walking basket cases.”
    “But he’s still really bad news.” Emma adds
quickly.
    She and Chloe exchange another look and I
finally register that they’re talking. Talking is good. Talking
might mean they’ve gotten over whatever it was they needed to get
over. A tiny spark of happiness ignites in my mind and I
momentarily forget about the Stranger, which is of course the exact
moment I feel arms wrap themselves around my waist. So it’s true, the second you take your mind of
them that is the moment they will appear.
    “Hola florecita,” he purrs into my ear.
    Continuing to hug me from the back he gives me a peck on one
cheek but addresses my two friends,
    “Hola Chloe, hola Emma.”
    He shoots them his million dollar smile. They half heartedly
smile back as he continues to hug me. His body is invitingly warm
and I feel my body falling back into his. Maybe he and I have a
chance after all? I mean, he doesn’t normally act like this around
girls in public. Maybe he thinks I’m special? The most affection he
ever showed Lizzy was a friendly pat on the head once.
    Well, besides tonight when he had his arm around
her.
    He turns me around slowly so that we are facing each other.
Our eyes meet and I find myself grinning up at him like a freekin’
idiot. He opens his perfect lips with their perfect rows of white
teeth and says,
    “Now we dance.”
    He takes my hand and walks me to the DF (that’s what the cool
cats at uni used to call the dance floor). He puts his arms around
my waist, pulls me in tight, and we start to salsa. Back step,
middle step, front step, middle step. Arianna taught me and Emma
salsa one night when I was over at their place for a Game of
Thrones marathon. It’s not too difficult, salsa that is, not
fourteen hours of Game of Thrones which was actually rather trying.
Just gotta make sure I don’t lose the three-step. It’s the basic
ingredient to the dance, the flour of the cake.
    “Why you no message me today?” He asks.
    “I did, I replied.” Back step, middle step…
    “But you no message first.”
    “I never message first.”
    We continue dancing in silence for a while. The DF is getting
more squishy by the minute as other dancers flood the small
space.
    “You are a much better dancer tonight than yesterday,” he
eventually says.
    I’m insulted for the briefest of moments, then think back to
my jiving from the night before. It had featured an outta control
Running Man, the Sprinkler and a Wild Knee (the one where you bend
your leg, grab hold of the ankle from behind and shake the knee
backwards and forwards). I thought I had looked really awesome and
cool.
    Clearly not.
    “Thanks, I guess.” I take it as a compliment. My thoughts
start to move towards Lizzy,
    “So… what’s up with you and Lizzy?” I ask.
    “Elizabeth? We are friends. What about you and your boyfriend
Antonio?”
    “Boyfriend? What do you mean? Antonio couldn’t be the furthest
thing from my boyfriend!”
    “He was hugging you before, yes?”
    “Well yeah, but that doesn’t mean, you know, that we’re... He
had his arm around Emma, too!”
    I stop stammering when I register his grin. It was a joke. Bit
of a weird joke, but whatev. As we dance and talk I start to see he
has a ridiculously different sense of humour to me. He’s also a man
of few words. That’s okay though. He could have the personality of
a wet cornflake and I’d still be head over heels. It’s not just
that he’s the second most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on
(after Take-My-Breath-Away-Armani model), but it’s his suave and
I-couldn’t-care-less attitude that’s drawing me in. I hate to say
this but I’m in awe of him, and freaked out that he’s even the
slightest bit interested in me. It’s a lot of pressure to be liked
by a 9.
    The next few hours are oodles