“Where’d you learn to dance?” Melody asked, breathless.
The gym smelled of floor wax and nervous anticipation. Melody Marks stood at the edge of the basketball court, now transformed into a mock ballroom for prom night practice. Streamers in school colors hung limply from the bleachers, and a senior with a laptop played a tinny version of “At Last” through portable speakers. melody marks prom night practice
“Hard not to. You move like water.”
“YouTube,” Dominic admitted. “And my abuela’s living room. She said every gentleman should know how to make a lady feel like she’s flying.” “Where’d you learn to dance
“I saw you practicing in the hallway mirror during fifth period,” he said quietly. “You’re actually good.” ” Melody whispered
“You know,” Melody whispered, “I think your abuela would approve.”