• Spanish-speaking people, don't come at me. (actually please do, but I don't want to hear complaints about where my eyes or attention are at, I'm only human) •

Saturday meant longer days of practice. The Dec opened at 9 and Fiona arrived by bus at exactly 9.12am. She would've been there earlier, but she slept through her first alarm. She didn't get home till 10.30 last night, and didn't get to bed till almost midnight. Showering and explaining to her mom why she missed dinner had taken quite some time as well.

But now, the next morning, Fiona felt ready for another day of dancing. She walked into the Dec in her black tights and training bra with a loose blue shirt on top. The temperatures were getting scalding hot in New York, even right from the morning. The weather forecast said the heatwave would continue to rage the city for another good week or so. No signs of rainclouds anytime soon.

Which mean boiling hot days of practicing in a poorly air-conditioned dance studio.

As Fiona stepped into the foyer of the DanceDec, she was immediately met by a lively energy. A bunch of people were sitting in the usual circle on the floor in the foyer, talking, eating their breakfast and some even doing their school homework. The Dec was a home to a lot of the people that came there, amongst them no doubt Adam. He always seemed to be there, always chatting with people or always up to something or other. That boy had a fire up his ass.

That's why, as Fiona scanned the large circle, she wasn't surprised to find Adam sitting amongst them with some of the girls, laughing and talking. There were a few guys as well, one of them talking to the girl Fiona remembered Adam comforting after her boyfriend had broken up with her. She was grinning and touching his arm, and the guy seemed happy with the attention. Adam sat a few feet away from her, next to Kalo who sat right beside him on a wooden crate. Together, they were bent over a third girl's head of hair, weaving her afro into scalp braids.

"¿Por que no usas el vestido nuevo que compraste ayer?" Adam said, glancing at Kalo. "¿No te gusto?"

"No, no, es hermoso, lo tengo en mi bolsa para más tarde," She replied in fluent Spanish. "La fiesta de compromiso es esta noche, usaré mi vestido ahí."

"¿Para un hombre en especial?" Adam enquired with a grin.

"¿Puede ser?" Kalo grinned back and then innocently looked around as Adam broke into a grin.

"¿Oyé, por que?!" He laughed, then shook his head and looked back down at the braid he was making. "¿Por que no me quieres platicar de él? Quien se supone que es él? Necesito conocerlo y aprobarlo a él."

"¡Oyé! Gringo, tú no eres mi padre, por favor."

"¿Y entonces por que me llamas papí aqui?" He smirked.

"¡Oyé! Bastardo!" Kalo slapped his arm hard and shoved him away with a roll of her eyes, making Adam break into loud laughter.

It was that moment Adam happened to look up. He noticed Fiona standing there with a confused expression, then perked up and shot her a grin. "Hey, princess! Welcome to the party! You already know Kalo, and this is Deeva," He gestured to the girl sitting in front of them, getting her hair done. She looked up from under a thick mob of fro and gave her a smile as well. "You wanna be next in line? Kalo's gonna be braiding all day."

"It's community service in this weather," Kalo stated. She shook her head and grabbed another section of Deeva's hair, parting the sections up. "We out here already poofing like a poodle, this humidity ain't making things easier. You want me to do yours next? I'll hook you up soon as I'm done here."

"I'm good," Fiona replied. Her hair was always in a bun, that way it was never in her face when she was dancing.

She glanced at Adam again as he finished a braid, then stood up and grabbed his bag.

"Alright then. She might change her mind later," Adam leaned down and staged whispered to Kalo as he grabbed his bag. "If her weave ain't flying by the time we're done today, I'm quitting dancing on the spot."

Kalo snorted loudly. "That'll be the day."

Adam laughed and Fiona had to silently agree with Kalo. She had only known him for about a short week now, but even she knew that him quitting dancing would be like Hell freezing over. This kid would dance even if he had no legs. Or dance floor. Or just floor in general. He would find a way to dance on the walls somehow.

"Watch it," Adam warned, pointing at her with a mischievous grin. He then looked at Fiona and jerked his head, waving her along as he headed up the stairs. "Come on then, tutu. Let's get those feet moving. Shit, we might just burn them off. It's like the floor is lava in New York. Actually, it's like the air is lava. I almost couldn't fall asleep last night, how about you? Can you sleep in hot weather or do you have a fan on?"

Fiona didn't get to reply as they walked inside studio 13, Adam unlocking it and dumping his bag down. He continued yapping on, asking one redundant question after another, so fast, she never even got the chance to answer. It was 9.20 in the damn morning and he was already flipped on to the highest. That meant a long day ahead.

"Okay chill out, would you?" Fiona finally had to break through when he was going on and on about how his cold showers had turned into arctic showers just to be able to survive this heat. "Jeez, you talk more than my grandma."

Adam grinned widely. "My grams says the same. She says I talk the ears off of her every night at dinner and don't stop to swallow my food. I tell her it's not my fault she cooks enchiladas on a regular basis. If she wants me to stop, stop feeding me the good stuff."

"You live with your grandma?" Fiona asked. Again, her curiosity got the better of her as Adam easily gave up another part of his personal life like it was normal trivia.

"Yeah," He plugged his phone into the stereo and started scrolling through it. It was so routine by now, Fiona automatically started stretching out on the floor. "I mean, she's not technically my grandma though. I don't know anyone in my family, but I call her grams because she's been taking care of me ever since I was little."

Fiona raised a confused brow. "What?" If she wasn't his grandma, then who was she? And did he just say... he didn't know anyone in his family?

"She's one of the old nuns back at the orphanage I grew up in. She adopted me when she retired from the church and raised me as her kid."

Fiona's jaw dropped before she could stop it. As Adam continued scrolling through his phone with a concentrated look, she tried to process the new shocking information he had just given her.

"You're... an orphan?"

Adam slowly turned his head and saw her reaction. He smiled. "Yeah. I told you I grew up in Harlem. Just not where."

Fiona closed her mouth and let it sink in. The more she learned about him, the more fascinated she got... and amazed.

He had had a rough childhood, yet here he was, the happiest person she had ever met, smiling and laughing so much, she was positive half of his abs came from that alone. But somehow, it just didn't add up to her.

"I'm sorry," She said, lowering her eyes to the floor and pretending to be focused on stretching her feet. "I didn't know."

"I have no secrets, princess. Unlike you, I'm an open book," When she looked up, he gave her a cheeky wink. "All you have to do is ask."

Fiona quickly dropped her gaze again when he kept looking at her with a challenging smirk. Like he was daring her to open up as well or ask him more. Talk.

But that would mean she was interested in him as more than just a dance partner.

"What are we dancing today?" Fiona asked and looked up, meeting him with a sober glance. He chuckled slowly, but then sighed.

"Tell me something first. I need you to answer me this, Fee."

She lifted her head again when Adam then walked up to her, eyes pinned on her face. Fiona swallowed nervously, watching his serious expression; An expression she hadn't seen on his face that often. He wore red shorts today, shorts resembling bathing shorts, and wore a loose black shirt with some sort of pressed-on logo. His brown hair was freed from his usual cap, which left his eyes to be that much more prominent. Eyes that were staring at her with resolve.

"What does dancing mean to you? Real dancing. When you step into this studio," He gestured into it with an open hand, showing her the dance floor, "When you're out there, what's going through your head? What's driving you when everything inside you hurts to the bone and you can't stay on your feet a second longer? What keeps you going?"

Fiona felt her skin prickle and her insides twisted at his questions. They were deep, invasive and poked a hole in all of her insecurities. All of her fears. He was asking her... why he was teaching her.

She took a deep breath. Everything inside her was suddenly in a turmoil, because nobody had ever asked her that question before. Not even herself.

"It's the only thing that makes sense in my life," She whispered, releasing a fragile truth from her heart she didn't know was real until she spoke it aloud. "I can't... if I don't dance daily... I feel like everything is going to fall apart. I can't... it's just something I have to do."

"And that makes it all worth it?" Adam asked. He was standing so close to her now, he could've reached out and touched her cheek if he wanted.

Fiona took another deep breath. It was all worth it. For her dad. "Yes."

Adam watched her for a long moment, but then slowly gave a nod. "Then show me that on the floor today. Own the steps I showed you yesterday," He took a step backwards, then another one, keeping his eyes on her. "You're not here to copy me or anyone else. You're not even here to impress me. You're here for you. So show me you're worth it, Fee."

The music started blasting with a kickstart and Fee snapped her eyes up. Adam stepped into the center of the floor and opened his arms, challenging her to join him. Timidly, she stepped forward, stepping onto the floor.

"Show me," He said, leaning down to her ear. "Show me, Fee. Move."

Fiona shut her eyes again and remember her thoughts from yesterday. No giving up. No being scared anymore. She had to do this.

Opening her eyes, Fiona glared up at Adam. He stared equally hard at her, still waiting for her to make the first move.

And then, she did.

She didn't count the beat in her head this time. Her feet moved on their own and recalled the steps he had taught her yesterday, the steps she had spent an extra two hours pushing herself through. Unlike yesterday, though, they came to her naturally, and as the beat changed, so did her moves.

Adam's lips slowly split as she danced, showing him the steps he had taught her – showed him how to own them. He nodded and then started moving his own body slowly to the rhythm. He let her lead the beat, but then as the pre-chorus came around, he spun around and took his place beside her, facing the mirror with her. And then, as the beat drop, they did the moves together in perfect sync.

Fiona let go of all of her thoughts and let the music just guide her. She didn't think too much about perfecting the steps, didn't think about how stupid she felt moving on the floor in weird, unclean lines.

Because she didn't. For the first time since they started this, Fiona didn't feel stupid dancing the steps, and as her eyes fell to Adam who was dancing next to her, caught up in the beat as well, for the first time she didn't feel insecure either. She felt...

Confident.

"Fucking SHIT!" Adam howled once the beat ended and took a run to slide across the floor on his knees. He grinned at the ceiling and threw both his fists into the air. "Fuck yeah, Fee! Fuck, you can't tell me that didn't feel like great sex! Goddamn, I knew you had it in you!"

He got up and turned around in time to catch Fiona blush and cover her mouth. For some reason she felt like crying and laughing at the same time. Her whole body was shaking, mostly from anxiety, but also from disbelief. She actually did it.

"Hey," He came up to her and offered her a winning smile. "You did it, Fee. Those better be happy tears I'm looking at."

Was she actually crying? She quickly wiped her eyes down. "Shut up. It's allergies. I have h-hay fever..."

"You have a fever alright, but it's not hay," Adam smirked, then turned and walked back to the stereo. "Let's keep going before you lose your nerve and I bust a nut from watching you own the floor. Same steps, new routine. Then I'm going to show you a few more steps. Tomorrow we spend half the day practicing true freestyle, then the other half we spend moving on to something slightly different. With me?"

Fiona dried the last of her tears and shook off the final jitters. "Let's do it."

Adam shot her a bright grin. "Fuckin' A."

~~~

Around 12 o'clock, Adam called for a lunch break. They all gathered downstairs, and after some convincing, Adam managed to drag her downstairs with them. Fiona still didn't feel completely comfortable in large crowds, but Adam promised the people down there wouldn't hassle her.

"I'll speak so much they can't get a word in edgewise," He grinned. After that, Fiona had sighed and reluctantly let him drag her downstairs to join the rest of the gang.

The DanceDec was for people of all age, race and background. That meant the crowd carried from young kids who spend their afternoon hanging out with their classmates, busting moves and learning from the older boys and girls who had been coming there for years, to elder people. Sometimes you'd see an adult or an actual dance instructor who came by ever so often to host an actual dance class. Sometimes seniors also dropped in for an evening of waltzing or ballroom dancing. Anyone with 30 bucks a month could rent a studio, but on weekends it was mostly kids of Fiona's own age that hung around the Dec.

"Lunch time!" Adam bellowed as soon as they entered the foyer, which seemed to be the official meeting spot. Everyone looked up and Adam was greeted with smiles, curses and hollers in both Spanish and English. The girls cooed him over and he quickly nodded Fiona along.

"Hey, snacks," He said as he took a seat on the floor, Fiona quietly taking one someone beside him/somewhat behind him. "What you got going on today? Something smells delicious and it's not you, Kalo."

Kalo shoved him with a laugh and muttered some Spanish curse words at him. "Oyé, puta. It's my ma's homemade chili. We had a cookout last night, the whole entire family came over. I ate so much food, I'm surprised I can fit into my shorts today."

"Yeah, I did notice your ass looked a little extra today. Want me to help you work that off?" Adam leaned in and smirked in her face.

Kalo shoved at him again and shook her head as Adam laughed. "You're lucky I didn't bring my chancla today, gringo."

"And you're lucky I didn't bring my belt."

"¡Oyé, pinche pendejo!"

Kalo slapped his arm and shoulder as Adam tipped over sideways with laughter. They then all dug out their packed lunches, Adam unwrapping a large deli sub filled to the brim with kebab, hot sauce and cheese with some lettuce and tomato sticking out here and there. The other girls had packed various things such as sandwiches, burger meals and bags of potato chips. They all passed them around like they were one big family.

Fiona herself had packed a modest salad. It was mostly lettuce, cucumber and a few canned beans she had rinsed and dried that morning. She had topped it with some more canned corn and a squeeze of lemon juice.

"Want some chips, Fee?" Adam turned to her when the bag had made it his way and he offered her a handful. Fiona shook her head politely declined. Fried olive oil, trans fats and high sodium. Not to forget the salt and starch. She would blow up like a popped tire.

"No, thanks."

Adam shrugged, but then happened to glance into her lunch box. He didn't comment, but instead turned back and pulled up another grin as Rani, one of the other girls he had danced with, said something funny.

Fiona fell in and out of their conversation. She focused on nibbling on her salad, keeping her eyes and head down to avoid accidentally catching someone's eyes. Eye contact usually led to conversations.

"This tango is killing me, man," Kalo suddenly groaned, shaking her head. "I don't know if it's Dimitri or me, but we keep messing up the end."

"Yeah? What's the problem?"

Her and Adam started going into a deep conversation about a tango Kalo was apparently rehearsing. What for, she didn't catch. Fiona finally gave up on trying to finish her lunch and popped the lid back on. Then, getting up, she grabbed her things.

Adam looked up. "You finished? I'll be right up, just go ahead."

Fiona gave a nod, but then left and walked up the stairs. She felt a weight drop off of her chest as she ventured back into the silence of the studio, away from all the others.

She didn't know why, but she had always felt like an outsider amongst people her age. She never seemed to fit into a category. The kids at her school all seemed to have their own thing going on, but none of them were as passionate about dancing as she was. She knew there was a cheerleading team, but the girls on the team were very outgoing and perky. She wasn't like that at all.

Everyone else had practically been friends since kindergarten or had known each other from the block somehow, which left Fee feeling outside again. She and her mom had moved from one side of Harlem to another side after her father died when they could no longer afford to live in their old house. They had sold most of what they owned and moved to a new neighborhood. Still, the streets somehow felt familiar – Harlem being her home.

But with no friends to share it with, she had kept from going outside and had focused on what was most important.

Sighing, Fiona peaked through the closed blinds and down into the foyer. All the kids were still down there, Adam howling with laughter as usual and the girls grinning, but turning their noses up at whatever he said.

Even in a place like this, she felt outside. The black kids here were all from the street and had way more cred than her. She felt too white to hang out with them, but too black to hang out with the white kids at her school. She was in between, her personality a split between growing up with a white mom and a black dad who died before she could adopt some of his confidence...

Looking at Adam, Fiona pressed her lips together. He was doing it like it was nothing. He had grown up in Harlem like her, had been through shit, and maybe that's why the street accepted him. Even if he was as white as they came.

Fiona turned away from the window and walked back into the center of the studio. At the end of the day, she knew it had nothing to do with color or creds. The problem was her; She just didn't know how to connect with people her own age. They were all immature and goofing around like they had no problems, or like they at least didn't exist, and took on a happy personality to cope with the fact that when all was said and done, they were all broken inside. And that's where she differed.

She couldn't forget her pain. Not when it haunted her with every literal step she took.

The door to the studio suddenly opened and Fiona looked up to see Adam coming in. He dumped his bag down by the wall and then looked back at her. His lips lifted in a little smile.

"Ready for more, princess?"

And wasn't that a loaded question.

• • •

More confidence, more courage, more Adam. Take your pick.

– The Spanish in this chapter was written by the help of Spanish speaking friends. If I fucked it up somehow, that's on me. Corrections are welcome.