The Partner She Didn't Pick

When Tegan's gym teacher announced the folk dance unit, she assumed she would end up paired with one of her friends. That was usually how partners worked out in that class. Instead, the list went up alphabetically, and she found her name next to Ronan's. He was a boy she had exchanged maybe ten words with in three years of school.

"This is going to be painful," she muttered to her friend Hazel, not quietly enough.

"For both of you, probably," Hazel said, not even looking up from her phone.

Ronan turned out to be a surprisingly patient partner, which annoyed Tegan slightly, since she had already decided to dislike the whole arrangement. He counted the steps under his breath, correcting his own footwork more often than hers, and never once complained when she stepped on him.

"You don't have to be nice about this," she told him after the third rehearsal, half joking.

"I'm not being nice," Ronan said. "I actually don't mind the class. My sister's a dancer. I grew up with this music playing constantly at home."

That explained the ease with which he moved, something Tegan hadn't expected and found herself watching more than the steps required.

By the second week, their conversations had started to wander beyond counting beats. She learned he was applying to an art program out of state, something he hadn't told most people yet. He worried it would sound like he was trying to impress someone.

"I wasn't trying to impress you," he added quickly, then looked instantly embarrassed by how that sounded.

"I know," Tegan said, smiling despite herself. "But it worked anyway."

The unit ended with a small showcase for parents. Afterward, waiting for rides in the school parking lot, Ronan asked if she wanted to get something to eat, not as partners, just as themselves.

Tegan had spent three years barely noticing he existed. She still wasn't sure how that had changed so quickly, but she said yes before she could talk herself into overthinking it.