The Mars Project by Julie Steimle (i can read with my eyes shut TXT) 📕

Jeff drifted from his group and walked to the front of the gym toward the stage, drawn there. Zormna stood and stared from her post. She wandered to the edge of the dance floor without thinking as she stared at the players deftly performing. A comforted and happy grin spread across her lips. Her eyes twinkled with tears of homesickness as she hung on to light Irish Celtic melody. It sounded like Home. It made her wonder if there really was a connection between Home and Ireland.

When Jeff passed the last of the people in his aisle, he stopped at the edge of the dance floor. Looking out toward the band, he saw Zormna humming to herself while skipping in a familiar pattern to the melody, not far from the center of the dance floor. A few others danced near her—old couples mostly—but many watched this ‘obviously’ Irish girl with entranced grins on their faces. She was almost lonely dancing there. Jeff stepped out, crossing through the dancers until he stopped in front of Zormna.

She halted, startled and even stepped back with the expectation of a disapproving remark. Yet Jeff merely nodded to her and extended his hand.

Her grin reappeared. Openly smiling, eyes shining, Zormna bowed to him and took his hand. A smirk on his lips, Jeff led Zormna into a dance that surprised everyone.

Both jumped and leapt together with style, kicking up with precision while missing the other by inches. They moved well, somehow knowing exactly the moves of the other. As the Clan Celt folk band played faster, they danced faster with the music. Soon they were swinging, kicking and dancing so fast that onlookers were clapping with the music while both individual’s hearts were stampeding in their chests.

Then abruptly, led up to the great climax, the music stopped. Jeff and Zormna stopped together with a great clomp of their feet to the floor. Two enormous smiles of pleasure stretched across their faces.

The crowd around the dance floor clapped and cheered.

Yet, still in their own timeless bubble, both boy and girl remained there breathing hard and grinning. Their hearts pounded in their chests while their spirits flew about the tops of the roof. Calls for an encore ensued, and the Celtic band gazed down at their two dancers with encouraging smiles.

Both dancers quickly dropped their hold on one another. They exchanged looks of private surprise. Zormna was blushing. Jeff stared as if seeing Zormna the first time, again.

“Do you have a request?” The leader of the band leaning over from the microphone toward Jeff.

Jeff grinned tiredly then nodded. Looking to Zormna, he said, “Is there one that you want?”

Zormna shrugged at him. A flash of homesick desire made her think sincerely about this question. And a song came to her. She whispered in his ear, cupping her hands. When she stood away, hopefully watching him, Zormna bit her lip.

“I’m not sure how to translate that.” Jeff murmured, though he smiled.

Then shrugging, he walked up to the leader of the band and whispered in his ear, demonstrating the beat and humming the melody. He even offered to play it, though none of the band members were willing to part with their instruments, even for a second. The leader at first looked like he didn’t know the melody Jeff was describing, but after a few seconds his eyes lit up.

“How about this. This is similar.” The leader started to fiddle out the tune. Jeff listened. He then nodded after a few measures. Even Zormna was nodding with a shrug.

“That’s close enough,” Zormna said with a look to Jeff.

Smiling, the bandleader explained the song they were doing to his companions. Once again he fiddled a quick jig, joined by the flute and then the drums and a bass.

Jeff lent Zormna his hand. She took it, holding it up and inclining her head toward him. Immediately they started their dance, which was different than the last one, though not by much. This one included a few tricks and a lot more stepping.

The crowd gathered thicker around the dance floor. Jennifer and Sam stood up on their chairs to watch over the people’s heads. Many people peered over their booths to see why the crowds were rushing off to the front of the gym. Jessica was near the stage laughing, hands over mouth. Joy and Jennifer McCabe stared from near the east exit. And even Miss Bianchi gazed at the quick motion of the small blonde and the infamous dark haired wrestler with a wide open mouth. Somewhere in the middle of the jig, Brian and Mark reached the edge of the crowd that rimmed the dance floor and pushed through. They had only just noticed he was missing. Jonathan was already standing at the edge of the dance floor when they reached him. Their friend was grinning while shaking his head slowly.

“He’s a blasted ballet dancer,” Jonathan laughed.

Mark squinted at the apparition on the dance floor. He then opened his mouth slowly, shaking his head. “No way.”

Brian shrugged. “I knew he could dance.”

Both boys looked at him. Brian glanced back casually. Then noticing their surprise, he made a face. “What? Haven’t you ever listened to when he talked about his girlfriend. He used to take her dancing.”

Mark lifted his eyebrows. “Yeah, I remember him saying that. I just thought he meant dancing like a school dances. Not this stuff.”

Brian shook his head. “Nah. He dances. A guy that good at wrestling has got to know how to dance.”

“You pansy.” Mark squinted at him. “Do you dance?”

Brian suddenly found something else more interesting. “Hey! He’s dancing with Zormna!”

Mark looked out again, and sure enough that green blur with the fiery blond hair was Zormna Clendar. They still had a hard time picturing her in a dress, as she avoided them like a protagonist in a slasher movie.

Jonathan watched with a simple grin on his face.

Once the dance completed, both dancers stopped, smiling together like old friends, breathing hard with happy gazes into the space above their heads and themselves. Then they looked out at the huge crowd that had gathered to watch. Just as suddenly as the music had drawn them to dance, the crowd drove that impulse out of them. They both turned bright red, letting go of their partner.

Clapping, “Marvelous!” Miss Bianchi cried aloud.

Zormna strode off the floor, turning redder and redder with each step. Jeff escaped the other way, also changing colors though not as extreme as Zormna. He bumped into Jonathan and Mark who both set their hands on him and asked where all that dancing came from. Brian merely heaved a breath and let it out again.

“You did marvelously, Zormna. Now that is worth an A,” her teacher said, grinning from ear to ear.

All her happy mood vanished with that remark. Zormna spun around and said squarely, “No, it was worth three A’s. Next time you give us an assignment, I suggest you grade us on a more equal scale and not on your personal whims.”

Without bothering to hear her teacher’s response, Zormna whipped around with a march out of the gym toward the drinking fountain.

The Celtic band started up again, deciding that the dancers were not going to return for another encore. They picked a slower ballad that retold about a soldier that died and left a widow in Kildare, or something to that effect.

“Hey,” Jeff’s voice broke over the sound of running water from the fountain.

Zormna looked up, swallowing her last draught. She panted for breath.

“Um,” Jeff looked at the ground and then glanced at her. “Uh…you were,” he took a breath. “You were really good.”

Wiping her mouth, Zormna nodded in likewise. “So were you.”

He nodded again and took a breath, trying to think of something to say.

“You thirsty?” she asked, pointing to the water fountain.

He smiled more naturally and nodded. Jeff bent down to get a drink, finding his mind whirling as his heart still pounded, though not exactly knowing why. It must have been that he was still tired from the dance.

“Do you ever play pronuk?” Zormna asked in the slightest whisper.

Jeff lifted his head up with a glance around to see if any FBI agents were nearby. He didn’t spot any obvious ones. But then, it wasn’t a crucial conversation topic.

“Uh, no. I was average at that,” he said. Chuckling, as he thought on it more, he added, “Al used to always whip my butt.”

Zormna laughed and nodded. “I saw him play once. He was really good.”

Jeff set his eyes more solidly on her. “When did you see Al play?”

Cocking her head to the side with a smile, she said, “Don’t you remember? It was the third time I saw you. It was the day I met your friend Dzhon.”

Jeff’s expression was still blank. Shaking his head, “I don’t recall—”

Huffing, Zormna snapped, “It was the day he joined the Patrol. Do you remember now?”

He started to nod. “Oh, yeah… I was meeting them at the sports room, and you were suddenly charging at me from out of the stands. You popped out of the air like a bomb.”

A smirk crooked on her face.

“I think that was the only time I couldn’t catch you.” Then going back to their earlier subject, she said, “But you did a lot of dancing, right?”

Jeff nodded, blushing slightly.

Zormna smiled. She then bowed to him. “It has been a pleasure.”

Jeff watched her walk back to her booth, slipping through the crowds of people. He sighed.

“That was amazing,” Adam Arbor said, walking up to him fast and taking Jeff by the hand. “Where is Zormna so I can congratulate her? She may have gotten me my A. I thought I was dead when I scheduled that karaoke machine for the break, but I told Miss Bianchi it represented Japan. She didn’t buy it—Uh, Jeff, are you ok?”

Sighing again, Jeff bent down for another drink of water. His face felt unusually hot.

The rest of the fair ran smoothly. Zormna contented herself with listening to the music rather than dancing to it, and Miss Bianchi avoided looking even in her direction after her blowup. Jennifer was sure that harmed their grade on their booth. She fretted about that for the rest of Clan Celt’s performance. When the break time came, Jennifer had Zormna sit and guard their booth while she got some lunch. Sam joined her, but quickly returned once he had a sandwich in hand. He also brought one for Zormna.

Zormna didn’t talk much after that. She just spent her time gazing at the stage and watching the karaoke. She didn’t respond to much of Sam’s conversation either until after the break ended, and even then her mind was drifting elsewhere. Twice Joy and Jennifer McCabe walked by, both girls purposely ignoring their booth. But even that didn’t bug her like it normally would have.

The Jackson Band played again for a half hour. When they were done, much to the band’s own relief than anything else since they could go home, they gave a great introduction to the next group.

“Everyone put their hands together for the Pennington Dance Team!” the leader of the band yelled.

The dance team ran out from both the east and west doors on the north side of the building and formed lines in the taped off dance square. Standing in the middle of them, Jennifer McLenna was there in a sequined leotard and a skirt that matched the rest of the team.

Zormna’s jaw dropped.

Sam started to laugh.

“I thought she was just going for lunch,” he said. Then grinning, he added, “Man is she the one for keeping secrets.”

Zormna glanced over at him and smirked, because that was entirely true.