The Matchmaker of Decaydance
The Finals
It was the finals. Mark and I were standing in the semicircle of partners around the judges, and we were gripping each other’s hands tightly. It couldn’t have been more hardcore than this; we had been the last to go, our score in the semi-finals had been another 9.8, and the scores were being decided.
I looked at the pair standing beside us. The girl looked about as tense as I probably did. Her brunette hair was up in almost the same bun as I had, only a few pieces were pulled out and curled on the side of her face. She had a royal blue dress on, matching the blue accents on her partner’s black shirt. Her eyes, though, struck me. She had bluish eyes that were lined with a light green, and I decided I thought she was gorgeous (in a non-lesbian way). Then it hit me.
Alex Suarez.
“Hey,” I said quietly. There was enough noise in the stands for us not to be heard by the judges. “I’m Alana.”
“Kacie,” she said, smiling.
“Don’t think I’m weird or anything, but you seem really cool.”
“Thanks,” she said, her smile growing. “You do too. Aren’t you Alana Wentz?”
“Yeah, that’s me. Do you feel like hanging out tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll find you after the announcements.”
“Got it. So where’s -”
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have the results.”
Kacie and I immediately shut up and squeezed our partners’ hands tighter. Mark’s arm encircled my waist as the judges turned on their microphones.
“In third place, with a score of 8.9, Jemma Wright and Roger Davis.”
The girl that was talking about Gabe earlier in the dressing room ran forward with her partner, and they took their medium small trophy.
“Our runners up, with a 9.6, Kacie Hammond and Derek Hough.”
Kacie’s jaw dropped, and she pulled her partner, a boyishly cute blonde that Mark and I had taken dance with for a year or two, up to the front. They brought their trophy back to the gathering of dancers, and she and I exchanged huge grins.
“And in first place, with a perfect 10.0, Alana Wentz and Mark Ballas!”
I dropped Mark’s hand and threw my hands up in the air. “Yeah!”
Mark and I went up to take the trophy, which was half as tall as me. He had to pull me back into the line of dancers, where Kacie wrapped me in a hug that was full of energy, but a little shy. She and Suarez were perfect. Derek and Mark shook hands, and then the line started to disperse. Everyone was leaving.
“Mark, I have to run. I’m going to dinner with Gabe.”
“Have fun. Do you want the trophy? I’ve got the one from last time, so I think you should have this one.”
“Sure.”
“I’ll take it to your place and drop it with Pete.”
“Thanks, Mark.” I gave him another hug before going to find Kacie. “Here’s my number. Text me or whatever for directions, okay?”
“Sure. Thanks, Alana.”
“Bye.”
I looked for the pink skinnies walking through the mob of people. Lots of people threw congratulations at me, and for each of them, I replied the generic thank-you. I was starting to get disgruntled with I felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around my waist and pull me against the strong, solid form of a person. I gasped in surprise, but smiled once I heard the voice of my captor.
“Well done, Alana.”
“Why, thank you, Gabriel.”
“Seriously,” he said, turning me around in his arms. “That was the coolest thing I’ve seen since Ryland started the whole ‘Guy Ripley’ thing.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. You’ll have heard Ryland do that sometime.” He loosened his grip on me a little. “So are you ready to go to dinner?”
“I think I’ll change first.”
He started to pout. “Aww.”
“You’ll be fine.” I kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
I went off to the dressing rooms and pulled the clothes I had packed out of my dance bag - a pair of gray skinnies that had a few rips in them and a white Fox racing v-neck, plus my purple Converse.
“Hey,” Kacie said from beside me, making me jump. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. What’s up?”
“Was that really Gabe Saporta? Like, Cobra Starship Gabe?” she asked quietly, making sure none of the other girls heard.
“Yeah.” I paused, pulling my nylons and fishnets off and my jeans on. “You can meet him tomorrow, when you come by. He and Alex Suarez are staying at my brother’s place.”
Her eyes widened. “Dude, you have no idea how awesome that sounds.”
I laughed. “Sounds like you’ll fit in.”
“So,” she started. “Good kisser?” she said slyly.
“Hells yeah,” I laughed. “Text me, kay? I’m going out to dinner.”
“Of course. See you, Alana.”
I left and met Gabe where we had been standing before. Thankfully, the mob of people had partially subsided.
“Ready?”
“Yeah.”
He took my bag from me, slung it over his own shoulder, and laced his fingers in mine. He started to lead me out to the car, and I melted. This was probably going to be one of the best dates of my life.
I looked at the pair standing beside us. The girl looked about as tense as I probably did. Her brunette hair was up in almost the same bun as I had, only a few pieces were pulled out and curled on the side of her face. She had a royal blue dress on, matching the blue accents on her partner’s black shirt. Her eyes, though, struck me. She had bluish eyes that were lined with a light green, and I decided I thought she was gorgeous (in a non-lesbian way). Then it hit me.
Alex Suarez.
“Hey,” I said quietly. There was enough noise in the stands for us not to be heard by the judges. “I’m Alana.”
“Kacie,” she said, smiling.
“Don’t think I’m weird or anything, but you seem really cool.”
“Thanks,” she said, her smile growing. “You do too. Aren’t you Alana Wentz?”
“Yeah, that’s me. Do you feel like hanging out tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll find you after the announcements.”
“Got it. So where’s -”
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have the results.”
Kacie and I immediately shut up and squeezed our partners’ hands tighter. Mark’s arm encircled my waist as the judges turned on their microphones.
“In third place, with a score of 8.9, Jemma Wright and Roger Davis.”
The girl that was talking about Gabe earlier in the dressing room ran forward with her partner, and they took their medium small trophy.
“Our runners up, with a 9.6, Kacie Hammond and Derek Hough.”
Kacie’s jaw dropped, and she pulled her partner, a boyishly cute blonde that Mark and I had taken dance with for a year or two, up to the front. They brought their trophy back to the gathering of dancers, and she and I exchanged huge grins.
“And in first place, with a perfect 10.0, Alana Wentz and Mark Ballas!”
I dropped Mark’s hand and threw my hands up in the air. “Yeah!”
Mark and I went up to take the trophy, which was half as tall as me. He had to pull me back into the line of dancers, where Kacie wrapped me in a hug that was full of energy, but a little shy. She and Suarez were perfect. Derek and Mark shook hands, and then the line started to disperse. Everyone was leaving.
“Mark, I have to run. I’m going to dinner with Gabe.”
“Have fun. Do you want the trophy? I’ve got the one from last time, so I think you should have this one.”
“Sure.”
“I’ll take it to your place and drop it with Pete.”
“Thanks, Mark.” I gave him another hug before going to find Kacie. “Here’s my number. Text me or whatever for directions, okay?”
“Sure. Thanks, Alana.”
“Bye.”
I looked for the pink skinnies walking through the mob of people. Lots of people threw congratulations at me, and for each of them, I replied the generic thank-you. I was starting to get disgruntled with I felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around my waist and pull me against the strong, solid form of a person. I gasped in surprise, but smiled once I heard the voice of my captor.
“Well done, Alana.”
“Why, thank you, Gabriel.”
“Seriously,” he said, turning me around in his arms. “That was the coolest thing I’ve seen since Ryland started the whole ‘Guy Ripley’ thing.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. You’ll have heard Ryland do that sometime.” He loosened his grip on me a little. “So are you ready to go to dinner?”
“I think I’ll change first.”
He started to pout. “Aww.”
“You’ll be fine.” I kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
I went off to the dressing rooms and pulled the clothes I had packed out of my dance bag - a pair of gray skinnies that had a few rips in them and a white Fox racing v-neck, plus my purple Converse.
“Hey,” Kacie said from beside me, making me jump. “Sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. What’s up?”
“Was that really Gabe Saporta? Like, Cobra Starship Gabe?” she asked quietly, making sure none of the other girls heard.
“Yeah.” I paused, pulling my nylons and fishnets off and my jeans on. “You can meet him tomorrow, when you come by. He and Alex Suarez are staying at my brother’s place.”
Her eyes widened. “Dude, you have no idea how awesome that sounds.”
I laughed. “Sounds like you’ll fit in.”
“So,” she started. “Good kisser?” she said slyly.
“Hells yeah,” I laughed. “Text me, kay? I’m going out to dinner.”
“Of course. See you, Alana.”
I left and met Gabe where we had been standing before. Thankfully, the mob of people had partially subsided.
“Ready?”
“Yeah.”
He took my bag from me, slung it over his own shoulder, and laced his fingers in mine. He started to lead me out to the car, and I melted. This was probably going to be one of the best dates of my life.