Face pinched by concentration, the youth stumbled, tripping over his own foot. He grumbled with frustration.
“I’ll never get this right.”
Sympathetic, his partner smiled in reassurance holding out his hand again. “Of course you will Faramir. Just like archery or sword play, dancing takes practice.”
“Well, maybe I don’t really want to go to the stupid dance after all.”
“Now that’s a lie and you know it.” His teacher fixed him with a questioning look. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Swallowing hard, the boy nodded.
“Well?”
“You see, Father, there’s this girl…”