Ballroom Rivals – Part 1: The Final Draw

The Blackpool Tower Ballroom was enormous, golden and terrifying. Elena had danced in it three times before, and each time she had lost to the same woman in the final: Maya Ferreira, with her sharp elbows, sharper smile and a habit of looking straight through her opponents as if they were furniture.

"You're doing the thing again," said Elena, stretching her arms in the changing room.

"What thing?" asked Maya, not turning around.

"Pretending I'm not in the room."

"You're hard to ignore," said Maya. "That's the problem."

The organisers had made the decision in a hurry. A dancer had injured her ankle the week before, and the only partner available for the Blackpool final was the rival who had beaten Elena two years running. Their coach had shrugged and said, You've both got the technique. Just don't kill each other on the floor.

They walked out for the first rehearsal in silence. The music started. Maya took Elena's hand, her grip firm and cool, and for a moment neither of them moved.

"You lead," said Maya, dryly.

"You lead," said Elena.

"Then we'll both be terrible."

They were terrible. Elena stepped on Maya's foot in the first turn. Maya's arm snapped too hard around Elena's waist and nearly sent them both into the mirror. The coach shouted from the side of the floor, and a couple of dancers in the corner laughed out loud.

Elena stopped, breathing hard, and glared at her partner.

"You're pushing," she said.

"You're pulling," said Maya, glaring back.

"Stop it," said Elena. "Both of us. Let's start again, slowly. Tell me where you want to go before you go there."

Maya looked at her for a long moment. Something in her expression shifted, just slightly.

"Fine," she said. "I want to go left, on the next turn. And I want you to trust me enough not to fight it."

"And I want you to tell me when you're about to change your mind," said Elena. "Because I won't know until I'm already falling."

"Deal."

They tried again. This time, Maya said, "Left," softly, just before the turn, and Elena followed without thinking. The movement was smooth and sure, their bodies fitting together like two halves of a sentence.

When the music ended, they were standing very close, Maya's hand still resting on Elena's waist, both of them breathing fast.

"That was good," said Maya, almost reluctantly.

"It was," said Elena.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yes."

"Why did you never let me win? Even once?"

Elena's mouth curved. "Because you never asked me to."

Maya's eyes widened. She let out a short, startled laugh.

"Then ask me now," said Elena quietly. "Tell me what you want."

"I want to dance with you," said Maya. "Not against you. And I want to see your face when you trust me on the last turn."

Elena's heart gave a hard, unexpected thump.

"Can I say something back?" she said.

"Yes."

"I want that too," said Elena. "And I'm very, very annoyed about it."

Maya laughed again, and this time she didn't let go of Elena's waist. "Green?" she asked, low and teasing.

"Green," said Elena, and stepped into her arms.