Teo’s gaze travels slowly along the length of my body. I would like to say that this is a sensual moment, but not a bit of it. What I read in his eyes is not admiration.
‘Why don’t you ever wear something colourful? You always look like you’re going to a funeral.’
His tone is neutral and does not betray emotions, but I still feel disproportionately angry about it.
‘If you don’t mind, I’ll decide how to dress myself. I don’t make comments about your clothes.’
‘Because I look good in everything,’ he retorts smugly, and the worst thing is that he’s right. I can’t remember ever having seen him looking scruffy or badly dressed.
And to be honest, he’d make a bin liner look like an expensive suit anyway.
‘Well black looks good with everything too, so I’m fine, thanks. Anyway, look who’s talking! Aren’t you the man who dressed in mourning for a wedding?’
‘Yeah, well, better to dress in mourning than to dress like my grandmother.’
Ok, this is too much. He can go to hell, him and the ballet. ‘On second thoughts, this was not a good idea. I’m calling a taxi and going home,’ I hiss, trying unsuccessfully to turn around. He stops me.
His expression has changed. He looks disappointed, and it’s ridiculous because I know he doesn’t really want to spend the evening with me. It’s just a dirty trick to try and cheat an exam that he will never pass.
‘Don’t be like that,’ he says, putting his hand on my shoulder. Recently we seem to have been touching too much. Way too much. But for some reason I don’t bite his head off. I just look at the hand and then back at him.
‘What do you want from me?’ I ask, exhausted. I can’t stand this tedious farce much longer.
‘I just want to go to the theatre. And you should appreciate the honesty. Would you prefer a man who lies to flatter you? I’m telling you upfront: I don’t like how you dress. You look so severe, and there’s no need for it. You have beautiful skin and you don’t show it off enough.’
I raise both eyebrows in disbelief. ‘What, are you a stylist now?’
‘No, but I have slept with a few models, so I do have some expertise in women’s fashion.’
I can’t help but laugh.
His total absence of filters makes Teo a ridiculous, and at times infuriating creature, but I must admit that, if nothing else, he is completely sincere when he comes out with this stuff. Maybe too sincere, but since I already know I’m never going to be a cover girl and I can’t stay offended for long.
‘You’re incorrigible, Teo.’
‘I suppose that’s true. Anyway, I like how my name sounds when you say it.’
I huff in annoyance. I kind of like it too, but I would never admit that. ‘Look, I’m not falling for it. You can continue this ridiculous attempt at courtship until you’re blue in the face. I. Don’t. Believe. You.’
Teo’s hand moves down from my shoulder, along my arm to then links his fingers with mine. I let him do it but I don’t return the gesture. If I did it I don’t know what turn this strange evening would take.
‘You realise what you’re doing makes no sense at all?’ I observe, shaking my head.
‘Oh come on, let’s have some fun. Don’t you enjoy making people believe something that isn’t true, wind them up a bit?’
‘Firstly, I don’t like to make fun of people. And secondly, I see no reason why this would be fun for me.’
‘The charm of the unusual, Sara. Pretend it’s Carnival and you can go crazy for just one day. Bahktin would approve. Do you see that I have studied something?’ he confides with a clever wink.
The revelation resets any reply I might have had. I’ve no idea how to interpret this strange moment when we seem to almost get along. I decide that we shouldn’t waste any more time and let him guide me to the theatre. The show will be starting in a matter of minutes.
*
‘But it can’t be real!’
I roll my eyes. Teo has been ranting on about this since the beginning of the first act, and while I pretended to be scandalised at first, he’s getting a little repetitive, and it’s starting to bore me. It’s not an ideal way of spending the interval.
‘Teo, there’s no way of finding out whether its real or not, but there are other elements to the show, you know? Maybe if you try looking at the choreography instead of the …’
‘He must have put something down there, it’s against the laws of physics!’
‘Why don’t you ask him later, in the dressing rooms?’
‘You want me to ask a dancer if his package is real or padded? Do you think that’s a wise move?’
‘You’ve been going on about this all the way through the show. If you want to know, ask him.’
Teo seems to think about it. ‘No, you ask him!’
‘You’re not right in the head! I’m not interested in how well-endowed the dancers are. Or anyone else, to be clear,’ I hasten to add.
My crazy escort rests an elbow on the cornicing and turns to me. ‘Should I believe that?’
‘Oh God, you’re so predictable. I don’t want to hear an ode to your manhood. I know very well the high opinion you have of it.’
Teo doesn’t reply, but smiles with satisfaction. It’s strange how we can talk about smutty things and I don’t feel embarrassed. Maybe it’s because I have no expectations of any kind. I can be completely myself with Teo, and I must admit that it is quite relaxing. If you have no ulterior motives, a chat is exactly what it seems: a simple, meaningless chat. Even if the topic centres upon the alleged use of phallic prostheses by ballet dancers.
‘Did you notice that first guy, for example? It was like he had a ledge to rest his partner’s bum on.’
Someone, perhaps overhearing shreds of our conversation, mutters in annoyance. I signal for Teo to stop and gesture for him to lower his voice.
‘Why don’t you focus on the story instead of all this nonsense?’
‘Because I don’t understand a word of it, no matter how hard I try,’ he admits.
‘So you were bluffing when you invited me?’ In that case I’d say I was justified in thinking you’re trying to corrupt me!’
‘But are you having fun?’ He asks me. What does that have to do with it?
‘That’s not the point,’ I reply quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly, now that I think about it.
‘Well, I’m having fun too,’ he concludes, leaning back in his chair. I would like to think of some sarcastic jokes, but the lights go down announcing the second act.
We both fall silent, but not before exchanging a knowing look. Teo smiles and doesn’t seem to want to tease me. His smile seems genuine. It is a decidedly surreal experience.
Meanwhile the music intensifies and the lights take on a rosy hue. The scenography is amazing, the costumes are light as petals. I already know which part is about to begin.
‘The Waltz of the Flowers,’ I whisper. My hand, the traitor,
instinctively searches for Teo’s, for who knows what stupid reason. Maybe it’s the music, the movements of the dancers, who seem to weigh less than a handful of feathers. Feathers. That’s how they seem to me.