Free RETRACE by Sigal Ehrlich

her pointy nose instead, and stand up, heading to where I assume the bathroom is. Nia doesn’t speak, nor makes any effort to stop me.
    I close the door behind me, find the sink, and splash cold water on my face. I prop my arms on the vanity and drop my head. There’s something about her that just makes me feel good, something I’m not willing to fuck up before I even have the time to explore. And I know, very well, that if I bed her I’ll screw it up. Like I always do. I adjust the swell inside my cargos, close my eyes, and take a few long mending breaths.
    Nia is putting our empty glasses in the dishwasher as I reach the great room. She turns back to the sound of my advancing steps.
    “Thanks for stopping it,” she says, catching me off guard. She has a tendency of doing that, surprising me. “Let’s just not mention it again, okay? Do you want to watch a movie?”
    For a short moment I look at her mildly startled. After inwardly determining that she’s the coolest chick I’ve ever met, I nod with a small crooked smile.
    “So you never told me what made you end up here?” I ask as Nia, beside me on the sofa, scrolls between movies tittles.
    “I wanted to teach dance.” She makes a great deal of studying the screen. I take the remote from her hand, forcing her to grace me with a look.
    “No studios in Brazil? You had to move to another continent for that?” The scepticism echoing from my voice can’t be disregarded.
    “I needed a change, okay? And I wanted to teach dance… Since my mother is originally from here and I have a couple of relatives in the city, it was the simplest destination.” My eyes run across her face, assessing her sincerity. Gradually, her expression takes on a softer air. “I love teaching young girls to dance. It makes me calm.”
    I can’t ignore the odd word choice. It calms her. Not happy, content, fulfilled, calm .
    Before I’m able to further pry, she snaps out of a short lapse and almost squeals, “The Piano.”
    I snort. “No chance in fucking hell, not even for you.” We both stop short at the latter part of my reply. “I don’t do whiny drama.”
    We end up settling on a comedy after some more lame drama films she tries to sell me and I disqualify for the sake of my short crap tolerance.
    Nia brings a light taupe throw and snuggles under it as I stretch my legs, resting them on the coffee table. She extends her hand to release a ponytail she tied earlier, and I watch her silky, dark hair fall in heavy strands around her blanket wrapped shoulders. She gives me a short soft peep. As our eyes meet, we exchange thin smiles and in unison turn to the mounted TV.
    Not long after the first scene ends with an idiotic “misunderstanding” that makes me throw my eyes to the ceiling, I turn to ask my movie companion to maybe change the film. I crane sideways to look at her, her long, dark lashes caress her high cheekbones as faint breathing sounds part her lips. She is burrowed inside the throw, her head dropped, almost leaning on my shoulder. I take the remote in one hand, and scoot over to sit closer next to her. Unconsciously, she rests her head on my shoulder. I breathe her in, and turn the TV to the news. As I lean back, Nia’s head slightly falls from my shoulder to my chest, and when I lean further back, her head gradually ends up on my thighs. The news become nothing of interest when I find myself admiring the curves and lines of her delicate features. I brush back a couple of thin hairs that cling to her cheek. I can’t unglue my eyes. One thing is sure, I’m in a hell of a different situation now, so far from the one I've envisioned coming here tonight. Nevertheless, I like it more than I can even admit to myself. I feel calm.

Chapter 12
    Nia
     
    I flicker my eyes open with a confused haste, it feels like I’ve slept forever. And the most puzzling part, I don’t remember waking up in the middle of the night, not even once. I can’t even remember the last time