But I remembered Camille.
“Yo, Jimmy!” shouts Joel. “Earth to Jimmy Strong!”
I flinch and look up. The table is silent, everyone glancing my way. “Huh?”
“I asked if you’re gonna lead the Spruce Ball at the end of the summer. Maybe perform a big number for us.”
I blink. “I, uh …”
“C’mon,” coaxes his wife Mindy, her voice lilting. “I’m sure there’s a nice girl in town who can match your talent and partner up with you. I hear Camille’s back from Europe for the summer.”
If I have to hear her name said suggestively at me one more time …
“It’s our second annual,” Billy points out before I can respond. “You and Bobby had to run off back to school early last summer because of … well, I forget. The Ball helps raise money to keep the arts alive in the schools. Everyone will be there. It’s a chance to—”
“—show off, like the cocky bastard you are,” finishes Tanner, then gives me a deep elbow-nudge as everyone else shares a laugh at my expense.
Everyone except Mama, who’s still the self-crowned Queen of Antarctica down there at the end of the table.
With a cautious look at her, I concede with a, “I’ll think about it,” to everyone. That’s the best I can give them.
I might as well have said yes, because Mindy and Billy high-five, Robby and Kirk and Joel howl their excitement, and Tanner shouts a proud, “Attaboy!” while applauding.
I guess there’s worse things I could agree to.
Like giving up my room for another surprise visit from Grandma.
It’s late evening by the time our guests clear out of the house. My parents retire to their bedroom, calling it a night. I decide to walk Billy and my brother to their house, which resides down the long dirt road edged by a white picket fence. They live in a shady, picturesque thicket hugging a small boomerang-shaped lake, their house complete with a dock that juts into the water like a finger. The three of us sit on that dock—me between the two of them—and listen to the woods and the water as the stars slowly emerge.
“I wish your school wasn’t so freakin’ far away,” complains my brother. “I’d have come to all your ballet recitals.”
I throw him a look. “You know damn well they aren’t called ballet recitals.”
“I know you do the hip-hop and pop-locking and stuff, but you gotta study the basics, too, don’t ya? That includes ballet!”
“They’re dance shows,” I go on, “and no, they aren’t worth flyin’ all the way out there to see. Not yet, at least. I’m no pro.”
“Oh, I’ve seen you dance,” he starts, “and you’re a total—”
“No,” I cut him off. “You’ve seen me dance in group numbers with girls here in Spruce. You don’t know what’s out there. There are tons of male dancers in the world, guys who’ve been training since they were four. I ain’t nothin’ compared to them.”
Billy shakes his head. “Mmm. Sounds like a classic case of big fish gettin’ a taste of the bigger pond out there. Jimmy, don’t be discouraged. I had the same experience in culinary school. Same as your brother when he went off to do college football. I was suddenly certain that none of my cookin’ or bakin’ was worth spit compared to the Cordon Bleu caliber stuff I was surrounded by.”
I shrug. “Nah, it isn’t that. I know I’m good.”
Tanner laughs. “There’s the cocky lil’ bro I know so well.”
“So what is it?” asks Billy.
I take a deep breath, then let it all out over the water. “In the real world, ‘good’ doesn’t cut it. I guess these past couple of years have given me a reality check. I don’t know how I’m gonna make a living doing this. Dancing. Whether I’m good or even great. There’s a gazillion great dancers out there who ain’t makin’ squat, either.”
“You never know.” Billy nudges me. “Don’t go sellin’ yourself short, buddy. You’ve got something to give this boring ol’ world.”
“Yeah, bro,” Tanner chimes in. “You were the first dude to take a dance class in Spruce High history. The following year, four more boys finally grew a set of balls and enrolled, too. You’re a real pioneer, my man. A Spruce legend.”
I snort and shake my head. “Says the Spruce Juice himself.”
“Oh, shoot, you didn’t tell my mama about your whole thing,” my brother says suddenly, peering over at Billy across me.
Billy sighs. “Well, you said she’d be in a mood because …” He eyes me and winces. “… well, because of, um …”
I frown. “Sorry. It’s my fault, I guess. Or Bobby’s.”
“Your ma is … pretty strong-willed,” Billy points out. “No one’s fault. You pick any day of the week, she’ll be set off about somethin’ else. Just this morning, I was tryin’ to tell her about this sweet sixteen-year-old my pa just hired at Biggie’s. He’s gettin’ picked on at school. I’m pretty sure he’s gay. He’s … the kind who’s unable to hide it, if you get what I mean.”