Archer blew out a breath. Way to go, Archer. Mateo Dixon hates you.

The night got blurry after that—two beers became four, then beer pong broke out, then shots. Archer was introduced to every person at least twice by an increasingly gregarious Betty, even when she didn’t know their names, and Beau and Ben ended up shirtless and doing a rather explicit rumba in the middle of the cabin, much to the delight of the crowd. Archer didn’t see Mateo again after their brief conversation.

When Archer’s alarm went off at seven the next morning, he cracked open an eye with great difficulty. He spent most of his life running a few minutes late for everything, and getting up early was not his thing, but he’d be damned if he was going to be late to his very first day of rehearsal.

Caleb was already gone, and it was a relief not to have to face him a little hungover first thing in the morning. A few sips of Gatorade helped settle Archer’s stomach, then it took him a good couple minutes to shake Ben and Beau awake and out of bed. He pulled on shorts and a tank top and grabbed his duffel. They stopped by the dining hall for eggs and sausage, then made their way to the theater with a few minutes to spare.

The troupe was milling around, downing coffee and Gatorade in equal measure. There was no sign of Stewart Harpham-Lale yet. Archer studied the wheeled whiteboard that was up against the wall stage right that showed the weekly performance schedule and daily rehearsal plan. There would be two shows every night in the theater, at six and nine o’clock. There was Club Retro, Latin Flame, a hip-hop night called Urban Beat, Around the World, Broadway Boulevard, and a contemporary show called From the Heart. Every Sunday was a drag show, and the dancers had the night off.

They would be working on Latin Flame today, according to the sense he could make of the scrawled writing. There was the Argentine tango, paso doble, samba, and cha-cha, and his partner was … Mateo?

“Uh…” He turned to Betty when she appeared at his elbow. “This can’t be right?”

“It sure is,” she said when she saw where he was pointing. “Every show has some same-sex couples.”

“But I—” His heart hammered its protest against his rib cage. He was going to be dancing with Mateo Dixon? Like, with him? In his arms?

Betty smirked. “Wow. You must be feeling a lot of feelings right now.”

He glared at her. “I’ve just … never danced ballroom with a man before. I mean, who even leads?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“That’s all.”

“Your face is sure bright red about it.”

Archer’s jaw flapped.

Betty patted his cheek. “You’re adorable, Archie. This is going to be really fun for me.”

4 Tango