George scanned Maritza with his big brown eyes and nodded to her then stood up and invited her to dance. Maritza tried to hesitate but when the other girls looked at her she reluctantly stood and George held her close like in the wooden guitar. She felt her ears and face burning as the music overtook her body. George moved to the rhythm of the notes and was surprisingly a good dancer like he was born to it even if it was the dirty rock music he had commented on.
Everyone stopped and watched as Maritza the catholic school student and the elder gentlemen with a straight back and funny mustache. Maritza forgot everything as her feet flew over the dance floor. The late afternoon sun rays washed the black and white titles and their long shadows spread across the colorful walls. When the song ended everyone applauded and Maritza and George bowed as if they had been in a dancing competition. George took Maritza out into sunset by his arm and walked her home. They spoke of nothing in particular just random stuff and nothing to do either with their dancing or with her singing abilities.
George bid farewell to Maritza at the corner of her house and asked if he would come and visit later. She agreed and she went home with a bright smile. When she arrived her mother asked what happened but she just turned left and bolted to her room. Dinner was uneventful as the new black and white television took most of the family’s attention away. She was glad that at least there would not be many questions for her random giggling. Of course, her mother was no fool and before she exited the kitchen after she had washed the dishes she grabbed her by the hand and asked her what happened. Maritza liked talking to her mother but it had never come to her talking about boys and much less about the older type. It was one thing to play the sweaty hand with a teen boy that did nothing more than just shyly hold her hand at most in those times. But a gentleman and an experienced one with such dancing move it might send the wrong impression up to her mother. Maritza did not lie about who and what George wanted. He was some sort of musician representative that wanted to talk to her and they went to the soda shop. Maritza’s mother smiled and asked her that she wanted to meet this George fellow next time he came to see her. Because it was not proper for an elder gentleman to be seeing a young lady in such circumstances. Maritza knew her mother would not tell her father since it would be like throwing wood into the already burning fire.
Spring came and went and George did not return. Maritza had almost forgotten about him after the many sleepless nights she kept replaying the dancing scene in her head along with a new song she was composing. More musician representatives tried to woe her with extravagant gifts and false promises she could feel it somehow in her blood when they were trying to deceive her. Perhaps it was just that they were not George and she should have known better. But first loves and obsessions are hard ones to forget. When summer began George honked from his brand new black convertible and he was wearing black eyeglasses and was tanned. Maritza almost did not recognize him as his hair was now longer and it hung loose on his shoulders. At his side, there was a fake blond woman with black eyeglasses as well and a short yellow dress that revealed too much.
