Enchanting Melody. Robyn Amos

      Stage lights washed the normally stark walls in a hazy red, and a blue spotlight swirled around the three-man band raging on the tiny stage. Off to one side of the cramped room akin to someone’s basement apartment, she found her friends at a table far from the stage.

      “There she is. Finished with ballet class?” Bass called to her.

      Mel rolled her eyes. “It’s not ballet—it’s ballroom dancing. And it figures you wouldn’t know the difference.” She pulled up a chair.

      “Ballet or ballroom…either way, I’ve just got to see this. Aren’t you going to show us what you’ve learned?” asked her friend, Roland.

      People at Alchemy didn’t dance so much as let the music vibrate through them into pulsating—almost convulsive—rocking motions.

      “Only if you’re my partner. Do you think you’re up for it, Roland?” Mel challenged.

      Roland, with his pale skin and thick, black-framed glasses could easily be mistaken for a college professor. He wore slim black pants, and a black V-neck sweater with a white T-shirt. In fact, he’d look better suited for a library than Alchemy if it weren’t for the spiky black hair that jutted in sharp angles from the top of his head…and the red lipstick.

      Roland glanced at his girlfriend Samantha, whom they all affectionately referred to as Tha. “How about it, Tha? Do you dare me?”

      Tha was a bleached blonde with three inches of black roots. She wore lip and eyebrow piercings and heavy metallic-green eye shadow. She just shrugged without looking up from her beer. “Mel’s going to make you look like a dork. But, if you’re cool with that, then I’m cool with it.”

      Roland got up and moved into an empty space at the back of the bar. Mel shook her head as she followed him. Punk music blared from the speakers above her head. Counting quickly, she abandoned any thoughts of a fox-trot.

      “Normally, the man leads. But, between the two of us, I think I qualify the most.” She took Roland’s hands and showed him the pattern Will had taught her earlier that evening. “One, two, rock step. Got it?”

      Roland looked baffled.

      The beat of the music was frantic, but they eventually managed to fall into a crazed, but steady rhythm. They were doing well enough that Bass and Tha soon joined them, frantically trying to imitate their movements. After several minutes, other people in the club got up to join them.

      The band, energized by the dancing crowd, played two extra songs before ending their set for a break. Mel and her friends returned to their table out of breath.

      “I can’t wait to tell Will you really can swing dance to punk music,” Mel said to herself.

      Just then, a man Melody had never seen before set a beer down in front of her. “You looked like you could use a drink,” he said with a flirtatious smile.

      Melody looked from the drink to the guy, then back at the drink.

      “What’s the matter, don’t you drink?” he asked.

      Mel picked up the glass and passed it back to him. “I don’t drink anything you bring me.”

      The guy stood staring blankly for a moment before finally wandering off.

      Samantha shook her head at her. “You never cease to amaze me. Everywhere we go, men fall all over themselves trying to impress you. You always shoot them down without batting an eyelash.”

      Melody shrugged. “I didn’t ask him for the drink. He volunteered for bartending duty.”

      “One of these days you’re going to run into a guy who’s not scared of you.”

      Mel shook her head, folding her arms across her chest. “It’ll never happen,” she said, more confidently than she felt.

      Deep down, she knew she may have already met that man.