The Dance

The Dance

When I heard her thoughts, I felt a strong urge to grab her by the hair and drag her down until she apologized to Mom. But she was lucky—this was a public place, and I couldn’t afford to create a scene.

"Hmm, he is very handsome. Look at those fine eyes and blond hair," the woman said out loud, pretending to admire me. Then she turned to Mom with a fake smile. "And who is the beautiful girl with him?"

"Oh, this is Cynthia, my son's friend," Mom replied warmly. "She’s a lovely girl, isn't she?"

Mom was right—Cynthia was stunning. A true beauty, and I felt proud just sitting beside her. Cynthia blushed at the compliment, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

The woman, however, was a two-faced snake. Her thoughts and words were worlds apart.

"Like mother, like son," she sneered in her mind. "He’s already following in her footsteps. Now that she’s letting him take someone’s daughter out on a night date, I’m sure she won’t mind if he sleeps with this poor innocent girl next."

Outwardly, though, she smiled sweetly and said, "Aww, she’s adorable."

I clenched my fists under the table. The hypocrisy was sickening.

I was still debating whether to say something when a waiter arrived with a tray of steaming fish pepper soup, three bottles of malt, and a carton of KF Hollandia yogurt. He placed them on our table with precision, his uniform crisp—black trousers and a neatly tucked-in red polo shirt. After uncorking the bottles, he gave a small nod and walked away.

"Enjoy yourselves, kids," Mom said as she stood. "I'll be around. If you need anything, just let me know."

I looked at her, silently asking if she had heard that woman’s vile thoughts. She gave me a knowing glance and sighed.

"Keep it to yourself. I don’t want to know," she said before walking off.

That was what always made me wonder—did Mom have the same gift as me? How could she always sense things without me saying a word?

Not long after Mom left, the DJ started playing soft, slow music. The dimly lit hall took on a dreamy atmosphere as couples swayed on the dance floor. Seeing this, Mom suddenly turned to Cynthia.

"Let me borrow him for a little while," she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet.

I followed her onto the dance floor, a little hesitant but amused. We danced for a bit, moving in sync to the music. Then she stopped and leaned in.

"Now go and dance with Cynthia," she whispered.

I scratched the back of my head. "Mom, Cynthia won’t dance. She’s too shy," I said.

Mom gave me a sly smile. "Wait here."

She walked over to Cynthia and said with mock seriousness, "You see that handsome young man over there? He wants to dance with you. Go on, don’t keep him waiting."

Cynthia’s eyes widened, but she eventually stood and walked toward me.

By now, the music had shifted to a slow, romantic tune. Couples held each other close as they moved gracefully. I gently took Cynthia’s left hand with my right, placing my left hand on her waist. She hesitated for a moment before resting her hands on my shoulders.

As we started dancing, I noticed people gradually stopping to watch us. At first, I wasn’t sure why. Were we doing something wrong? I could feel Cynthia tense up, just as self-conscious as I was.

Then I saw Mom smiling at us, nodding in encouragement as if to say, Don’t stop.

So I didn’t.

Cynthia relaxed slightly, leaning into me. Her soft breath tickled my neck as she buried her face in my suit. I held her a little closer, enjoying the warmth between us. We moved together, swaying to the rhythm, lost in the moment.

It was perfect.

But then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something that snapped me out of the trance—a man had joined Mom at our table. He was talking to her, but she didn’t look happy.

I focused my attention on them, using my gift to listen in.

"My answer remains the same, sir," Mom said firmly. "I already told you—I can only have a professional relationship with you. Nothing more."

"Come on, Juliet. Forget about work for a moment," the man said, his tone dripping with fake charm. "Let’s talk about us."

Mom’s eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me? What us? Are you threatening to fire me if I refuse?"

The man gasped dramatically. "My God! Why would you even think that? Juliet, I have fallen for you."

A sick feeling settled in my stomach. This had to be Mr. Onyeka—the man that horrible woman had been thinking about earlier. Now I understood why Mom had brought me along tonight.

I turned to Cynthia. "Excuse me, honey. I need to check on Mom."

She nodded, letting go of me reluctantly. I walked over to the table just in time to see Mom exhaling in relief. She was glad I came.

"Mom? Is there a problem?" I asked, placing a protective hand on her shoulder.

The man looked me over, smiling in a way that made me uncomfortable.

"So, this is your son?" he said. "Now I see why you brag about him so much."

Mom forced a polite smile. "Yes, he is."

I didn’t like the way he was looking at her—like she was some prize to be won.

"Nice to meet you, sir," I said, keeping my voice steady.

He chuckled. "Nice to meet you too, young man. Your mother speaks highly of you."

I could hear his real thoughts, though.

"Hmm, a handsome boy. But he won’t stop me from getting what I want. Juliet will come around eventually. She just needs more convincing."

I clenched my jaw, barely keeping my anger in check.

Mom shot me a warning glance—don’t do anything—and I took a deep breath.

"I’m glad you think so, sir," I said, my voice calm despite the storm inside me. "Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’d like to get back to enjoying the evening with my mother and my date."

The man smirked but said nothing. He leaned back in his chair, watching us as if he had all the time in the world.

Mom stood up, subtly gripping my wrist as if to say, Let it go.

I nodded and turned away, but I wasn’t going to forget this.

Not tonight. Not ever.

As I walked back toward Cynthia, I could still feel the weight of that man’s presence behind me. The night had started beautifully, but now, it felt like something darker was lurking beneath the surface.

I just didn’t know what it was yet.