“Come on, sweetheart, you gotta loosen up a bit.”

You bite back the sharp retort on your tongue; that you have loosened up, you’re as loose as you’re gonna get, you just don’t know what you’re doing.

It’s been thirty minutes of the back and forth attempt at teaching you how to dance. Getting you to do something more than a two step took up half of that time, and you’re still as tense as you were when you started. Joel’s still ever patient, the easy grin on his face twitching into something more when you mess up again. When you turn your head away to avoid his eye, he guides your chin back to view.

Growing up in Jackson hadn’t been all that it was now. There hadn’t been time for leisurely things like dancing, or community barbecues in Summer, or sleeping without worrying about whether or not you’d wake in the morning to the town swallowed whole.

You’d told this to Joel, who’d nodded along as the low music on his record player crooned on from inside his house, but you could tell he was only half listening. Your suspicions were confirmed when halfway through your recollection of the early days in town, he got up from the porch swing and grabbed your hand, leading you to the middle of the porch.

Dancing hadn’t been your forte even when you had the chance to learn. Your movements were too stiff, too aware of your own limbs with every step. Your previous dancing partners were kind enough to ignore it until the song was over, but you know Joel won’t drop it until you’re at least able to shuffle back and forth without falling over yourself.

When you do a successful spin without your legs twisting around themselves and knocking you off balance, Joel lets out a hoot of excitement, pulling you back in when you try to scurry away out of embarrassment.

“There you go! See, you’ll be a natural in no time,” he teases, grin turning into a full blown smile at your scalding look.