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Mack couldn’t stand this music.
It was preppy. It was obnoxious. It was overly bubbly. It was pounding in her ear, and it reminded her of all the things she hated about school. The pointless cliques, the popularity contests, and the inane dances. All any of her peers could think about was which boy would ask them out or if their makeup would attract Tommy Harris; or whatever boy they were obsessed with that week. It was like someone had put the top 10 trashiest pop songs through a 60s-themed washing machine, creating a perky tune that bled into your mind like a red shirt staining white pants into pink.
Mack just couldn’t stand it.
“I’m not the kind to fall for a guy who flashes a smile
It goes on for miles.”
This song would be stuck in Mack’s head for the rest of the week.
At least Brady seemed to be having fun, Mack thought, as he pulled her into a spin. She watched his shaggy blonde hair flop into his eyes as he shook with laughter. A little too much fun. She couldn’t blame him for being excited at first—this was his favorite movie—but would it kill him to be even a little concerned? They were stuck in a musical from 1962, for crying out loud! And here he was, trying to dance along to the stupid choreography! Mack had learned moves more difficult than this in her seventh-grade cotillion!
Mack really cannot stand this music!
Brady spun her again and again until she was beyond dizzy. Her head whirled as the room twisted out of focus. The only tangible thing she was sure of was Brady. She could see him clearly through the spinning fog; she almost found comfort in him. But he was still smiling. He was smiling so wide that it looked like his cheeks hurt. He seemed to be having fun. So much fun that he didn’t notice that Mack’s world was spinning. It made her unbelievably nauseous. Mack roughly pushed Brady away before vertigo could consume her more than it already had. The kicked-puppy look that had befallen Brady’s face made her even sicker.
“C’mon, let’s dance,” Brady said; pleaded, really. As if all their problems—of which they had many—would be solved if Mack conceded to a 60s-style foxtrot. As though everything would turn out alright, even though they had no way of getting home. And Mack just couldn’t bring herself to pretend any of that was okay.
“No. I’m sorry, I can’t,” Mack backed away until Brady was at arm’s length. She needed to get out of this spinning hut, and she needed Brady to stop looking at her like she broke his favorite surfboard, and she definitely needed this insufferably catchy song to get out of her head . “I’m sorry,” Mack repeated as she spun on her heel and quickly tried to get away.
Brady tried to chase after her, but Mack refused to look back. Because if she did, it would only take one look at Brady’s pleading eyes before she’d fold.
Mack needed to find the exit.
Mack bumped into dancers repeating the same choreography Brady had tried to rope her into; she slipped on the shiny wooden floors; she twisted between a biker and a surfer making threatening gestures at one another. Movie characters grabbed Mack by her arms and pulled her into the center of a circle. They swiftly spun around her, worsening her dizziness and increasing her nausea. She pushed through the crowd. She was pretty sure she had accidentally smacked one of them in the face, but they either didn’t notice or didn’t care because they all just continued dancing as though she had never been there.
The music was getting louder, and her head was pounding. She desperately looked around for an exit. The music was getting louder, and she couldn’t see Brady anymore. Mack couldn’t think of a point where they might have become separated. Did he give up looking? The music was getting louder, and she was starting to lose hope. She buried her head into her hands as the music got the loudest it had been all night. She looked upward; she was standing in front of the stage.
“It feels like I’ve tumbled from another world-”
This song was starting to hit a little close to home.
“Into your arms, and it’s so secure.”
The bridge of the song was actually kind of nice. Mack liked it like this; slowed down and calm.
Standing this close to the stage, Mack could get her first real look at the main character of this movie. Lela was her name if Mack remembered correctly. She was wearing ridiculously tall black high heels for someone performing on a stage, her hair poofed up highly (a look only achieved by using copious amounts of hairspray, no doubt), and it was held out of her eyes with a plain black headband. She had on a red dress with white polka dots; it was cute. Mack had to commend the costume department. Lela looked gorgeous. Mack smiled softly and swayed along with the music.
“Maybe I’ll stumble, but I know for sure-”
Lela’s eyes were closed, immersed in her song. Paying attention only to the lyrics she sang, the instruments that accompanied her, and the swish of her hips along to the beat. She swayed, and she twirled; off in her own world. Mack envied how carefree she seemed. Mack couldn’t take her eyes off her. It was like some cosmic force was pulling her gaze to Lela. She reminded Mack of the sun. A warm and inviting star that burned bright and blazed hot. And despite knowing that you’ll end up hurt, you can’t look away. Mack’s cheeks grew warm as she continued to track Lela’s movements.
She was getting kind of close to the edge of the stage. It almost seemed like Lela was going to fall. That couldn’t be right. Mack looked to the left and the right; no one else had seemed to notice.
“Head over heels, I’m gonna be your girl.”
Lela was falling.
The instruments were still strumming, and Lela was falling.
Everyone was still dancing, and Lela was falling.
Mack’s legs moved before her brain could catch up.
Mack hadn’t expected Lela to be so featherlight, but she also hadn't expected to be stuck in a musical. Everything was unexpected tonight because Mack would have never expected to be holding a biker girl in her arms bridal style, yet here they were.
Lela draped her arms around Mack’s neck and held on for dear life, which seemed like an over-exaggeration because she only would have fallen two feet if Mack hadn't rushed to catch her. She was looking up at Mack adoringly; there were practically stars in her eyes. She began to sing again, somehow not out of breath. Movie magic, Mack supposed. But something about this verse felt different. Lela kept unflinching eye contact with Mack as she sang. It was almost like they were the only two left in the room.
“I just can’t stop myself from falling for ya, falling for ya.
Can’t hold on any longer, and now I’m falling for you.”
Lela slowly reached out and gingerly caressed Mack’s cheek. Mack leaned into the touch, melting in the warmth Lela’s hand offered. At that moment, Mack almost thought she’d like to stay that way for a while. Possibly forever.
“You just saved my life,” Lela sighed.
“Well, more like I saved you from a twisted ankle,” Mack said, trying to ignore how close they had become. And trying to ignore the butterflies swirling in her stomach.
“I’m Lela.”
“I know- uh I mean,” Not off to a great start, “I’m Mack.”
“I guess I literally fell for you, huh?”
Maybe Mack had misunderstood those stary eyes. Maybe those were actually hearts sparkling in Lela’s irises
Uh oh.
~~~
Brady loved this music.
It was like summer sunlight shining on him. It was like cold waves splashing onto his surfboard. It was like beach sand underneath his feet after sunset. It reverberated through his chest; it made him unbelievably happy. Being here felt like a dream. It felt like giving his childhood self a high five. Brady remembered all those sleepless nights when he would lie awake in front of the TV, desperately trying to memorize the choreography of his favorite numbers. Then he would dance in his room, fumbling through jazz squares and pivot turns, cycling between dressing like a surfer and dressing like a biker. He smiled at the memories as nostalgia flooded his senses with each verse.
Brady loved it so much.
“Don’t usually swoon, but I’m over the moon.
Cause he was just too cool for school.”
Brady tried taking Mack’s hand into his own, but she was pushing him away. She looked upset. He hadn’t meant to upset her. He thought they were having fun. Brady had been so excited to share his favorite movie with the girl he loved, but it was as though she'd rather be anywhere else. As though she couldn’t stand to look at him.
“C’mon, let’s dance,” Brady reached for her hands again, but she flinched away from him. Brady knew a crestfallen look had darkened his features. He had always worn his heart on his sleeve; ever since he was a kid. His emotions were embarrassingly blatant. And now Mack was frowning too.
“No. I’m sorry, I can’t,” Mack was backing away in a manner she probably thought was subtle. It was like someone had kicked him even though he was already down and then poured sea salt into his bruise. “I’m sorry,” Mack said again. And Brady watched as his girlfriend left him behind. He had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time. Brady couldn’t let it end like this.
Brady tried calling out to her, but his voice got drowned out by the music. He tried reaching out to her, but she got swept up into a dance circle. He could only watch helplessly as Mack pulled further and further away from him. Then, someone hooked their arm with Brady’s and pulled him into a waltzing position.
Within seconds, he was instantly transported back into his childhood room. Twelve-year-old him looking in the mirror, learning the steps, and dancing with a mop. He would have never dreamed of doing this dance with someone else, let alone someone from the movie! It was all too much and not enough at once.
Brady absolutely loved this music!
By the time he had spun back into his original spot on the dance floor, Brady realized he had lost sight of Mack. He had gotten too wrapped up in the movie, in the song. Maybe that was why Mack was so intent on attending that uppity private school. So intent on leaving Brady and the beach behind. He was too wrapped up in childish dreams. He was so stupid.
She probably went outside.
Brady pushed his way through dancing people, trying his hardest to resist the charms of his favorite movie. It almost seemed like the crowds were parting for him, which was weird. But Brady didn’t think to question it. But something in the air had definitely changed like it was an entirely different atmosphere. Brady doesn’t remember this scene looking so staged. The party patrons were now lining up along the walls. Which meant it was almost time for—
“It feels like I tumbled from another world-”
His favorite part of the song.
“Into your arms, and it’s so secure.”
Brady turned toward the stage. He could quickly watch the scene play out before searching for Mack. Brady had always loved this part of the song. The slowed-down instrumentals accompanied by the on-the-nose lyrics had captivated Brady as a kid. And, of course, watching the main characters fall in love was always endearing. Brady would even be so bold as to say this is the movie that awoke his inner hopeless romantic, among other awakenings.
“Maybe I’ll stumble, but I know for sure-”
Brady had begun backtracking toward the exit. He’d seen this movie and this scene a thousand times. Right now, he needed to focus. But he still kept his eyes trained on the stage; some things don’t just change overnight. With how often he had watched this movie, Brady would consider himself an expert on all things Wet Side Story , like costume design, choreography, or even stage directions. But despite all the fun facts he could spew like a second language, it seemed like set design was not at the top of the list. Brady stepped backward into the bottom step of a stair, his ankle hooking under the wooden plank. He distantly registered his shoulder bumping into someone else’s as he shut his eyes and braced his head for imminent impact.
“Head over heels, I’m gonna be your girl.”
The impact never came. He was confused about that.
He didn’t fall. He was thankful for that.
Someone had caught him. Circling back to confused.
He opened his eyes and immediately felt heat rise up his neck.
When he first watched this movie in the fifth grade, it opened his eyes to a few things.
- Surfing was the coolest.
- Musical lyricism is pretty neat.
- A bunch of people dancing in tiny bikinis and short swim trunks can be very enlightening
Brady was pretty sure this movie—this scene specifically—had been his bisexual awakening. As a kid, he couldn’t figure out whether he wanted to be Tanner or Lela in this scenario. It ended up being both, but right now, being held in Tanner’s strong arms was favorable.
The music began to swell as the final chorus started. Tanner looked at him like he was the only guy in the world, and Brady was completely starstruck. Brady placed his hand on Tanner’s bicep in an attempt to ground himself to reality. But it only sent him spiraling further because, of course, Tanner’s arms were toned and muscular. And now Brady was blushing; his whole face was probably red. Could this get any more embarrassing? Tanner smiled, clearly holding back laughter. Brady could just die.
“And now I’m falling for ya, falling for ya.
I know I shouldn’t but I, I just can’t stop myself from-”
Brady tried hiding his face in his hand while keeping himself upright with the other. He couldn’t believe how majorly he was blowing this. Tanner’s hand was cupping the back of Brady’s head and holding him gently. The hairs on the back of Brady’s neck stood on end, and his face was burning at the tenderness of it all. He peeked through his fingers and accidentally made eye contact. Even if Brady couldn’t see Tanner’s signature grin, he’d still be able to tell he was smiling. Tanner’s eyes crinkled at the corners; crow’s feet fully displayed. His gaze sparkled with unabashed joy in a way Brady could only describe as charming. He could look into those eyes forever. He could see himself falling into them and never resurfacing, like getting pulled into a black hole and peacefully embracing your fate. He’s been staring for too long.
“Nice of you to drop in,” Tanner said. It was an objectively corny line, but it was working.
“I- uh- thanks… for catching me.” Smooth. Real smooth. Tanner smiled again; Brady could see the laughter bubbling behind his grin. “Don’t laugh, okay! I’m not usually like this. It’s just that you’re—” Brady needed to stop making eye contact, “I didn’t see you, is all.”
“Now that you do, do you like what you see?”
Well, yeah. Yeah, he did.
But he also recognized that line. And the song was over. It had been over for a while. Which meant Tanner never got a chance to catch Lela. So, they never got a chance to fall for each other. Instead, Tanner had fallen for—
Uh oh.