Аманда Хокинг - Switched

Then there was the hour and a half spent at the dinner table.

Apparently, I did not know how to eat properly. There were certain ways to hold the fork, tilt the bowl, lift the glass, and even place the napkin. Up until that time, I had never mastered any of those skills, and from what I gathered about the way Finn regarded me, I still hadn’t. Eventually, I gave up. Pushing my plate back, I laid my head down and pressed my cheek against the cold wood of the table.

“I can see you’ve had enough with this,” Finn sighed and pushed back his chair as he stood up. “Why don’t we do something fun for awhile?”

“Fun?” I looked up skeptically at him. “Do you mean fun fun? Or do you mean looking at pictures for two hours fun? Or Using a Fork 101 fun?”

“Something that at least resembles actual fun,” Finn answered. “Come on.”

Cautiously, I got up and followed him. Even if whatever he planned on doing was the most boring thing in the world, I didn’t really have a choice.

What I was going through right now was the montage part of every duckling-toswan story. In the movies, they always showed clips of all the hard work they put in until the got better, and in thirty seconds flat, there were be the finished, transformed princess. Unfortunately, I couldn’t montage my way through this. I actually had to endure.

As Finn led me down a hall to the west wing of the house, I realized that I’d never seen any of this before. When Garrett had teased Elora about this being a palace, he wasn’t kidding. There were so many places I had yet to see. It was astounding. Finn gestured to a few rooms, pointing out the library, meeting halls where they conducted business, the opulent dining hall where we would hold the dinner on Saturday, and then finally, the ball room.

Pushing open the doors, which seemed to be two stories high, Finn led me into the grandest room I had ever seen. Massive and exquisite, the ceilings seemed to stretch on forever, thanks in part to the fact they were entirely skylight. Gold beams ran across it, holding up glittering diamond chandeliers.

The floors were marble, the walls were off-white with gold detailing, and it looked every bit like the ballroom for Disney fairytales.

The decorators had started bringing things in, and one of the walls was lined with stacked chairs and tables. Table cloths and candlesticks and all sorts of decorations were littered in a pile around them. The only other thing in the room was a white grand piano setting in the opposite corner. Otherwise, the room was empty, except Finn and me.

I hated how taken I was with the splendor. I hated it even more that the room was this magnificent, and I looked like I did. My hair was in a messy bun, and I was wearing baggy sweats and a faded sweater with a boombox on it.

Finn wasn’t exactly dressed to the nines either, but his standard buttoned shirt and dark washed jeans looked much more fitting.

“So what’s the fun part?” I asked, and my voice echoed off the walls.

“Dancing,” Finn’s lip twitched with a smile, and I groaned. “I’ve danced with you before, and I know that it needs some improvement.”

“The slow circles don’t cut it?” I grimaced.

“Unfortunately, no. A proper waltz should be enough, though. If you can master that, you’ll be set for the ball on Saturday,” Finn explained.

“Oh no.” My stomach dropped as I just realized something. “I’m going to have dance with these people, aren’t I? Like strangers and old men and weird handsy boys?” Finn laughed at that, but I wanted to curl in a ball and die.

“I could lie to you, but to be honest, those are probably the only people that will ask you to dance,” Finn admitted with a wry smirk.

“You are enjoying this more than I’ve ever seen you enjoy anything!” I pointed out, and that only deepened his smile. “Well, I’m glad you find this funny. Me getting felt up by compete strangers and tripping all over them. What a great time.”

“It won’t be so bad,” Finn insisted, then he motioned for me to come over. “Come on. If you learn the basic steps, at least you won’t be tripping over them.”

I sighed loudly and walked over to him. Most of my trepidation about dancing with strangers melted away the instant Finn took my hand in his. It suddenly occurred to me that before I had to dance with them, I got to dance with him. His hand went to the small of my back, and I cursed myself for wearing such a thick hoodie. Then I had a brilliant idea. I paused our training, claiming the bulk of my hoodie was too hard to dance with, and pulled it off. I was wearing a tank top underneath, so it wasn’t like I was being completely inappropriate.

After a few directions from him and a rough start by me, we were dancing. His arm was around me, strong and reassuring. He instructed me to keep my eyes locked on his so I wouldn’t get in the habit of watching my feet while I danced, but I wouldn’t have looked anywhere else anyway. His dark eyes always mesmerized me. We were supposed to keep a certain distance between our bodies, but I found it impossible. Soon, his stomach was nearly pressed against mine, and I was certain we weren’t going as fast as we were supposed to, but I didn’t care. I was back in that moment with him, that wonderful one that seemed too impossibly perfect to be real.

“Right, okay.” Finn suddenly stopped and took a step away from.

Disappointed, I let my hands fall to the side. “You’ve got that down pretty well, but there’s going to be music. So you should see how you do with that.”

“Okay?” I said unsurely.

“Why don’t I play the piano, and you count out the steps yourself?”

Finn had already started backing away to the piano, and I was wondering what I had done wrong that made him stop so suddenly. “That might be a better way for you to learn.”

“Um, okay,” I shrugged uncertainly. “I thought I was doing fine before.”

“We weren’t going fast enough. The music will help you keep time,” Finn explained.

I frowned at him, wishing he would just come back and dance with me.

Before he had told me I was a terrible dance partner, and maybe that was the problem. Maybe I was just too bad of a dancer. He sat down at the piano and started playing a beautiful, elaborate waltz, but of course he could. He could do anything. I was just standing there, staring at him, until he directed me to start dancing.

I whirled around on the dance floor, but it definitely wasn’t as fun as it had been with him. In fact, it wasn’t really that fun at all. It might have been if I weren’t trying to figure out what I did wrong that always made Finn back away from me at the worst possible moments. It was hard to concentrate on that, though, when Finn kept barking out corrections at me. Funny, he hadn’t noticed any when we had been dancing together.

“Nope, that’s it,” I panted after what felt like an eternity. My feet and legs were getting sore, and a sheen of sweat covered my body. I had had my fill of dancing for the day, and I sat down heavily on the floor, then leaned back, sprawling out on the cool marble.

“Wendy, it hasn’t even been that long,” Finn insisted.

“Don’t care. I’m out!” I breathed deeply and wiped the sweat from forehead.

“Haven’t you ever worked hard at anything?” Finn complained. He got up from the piano bench and walked over to me, so he could lecture me up closer, apparently. “This is important.”

“I’m aware. You tell me every second of every day,” I grumbled.

“I do not.” Finn crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at me.

“This is the hardest I’ve ever worked at anything,” I said, staring back up at him. “Everything else I’ve quit before this, or I never even tried. So don’t tell me I’m not putting effort into this.”