“Estrella” ("Star")

I tried to avert my eyes off her but I could not, I was hypnotized.
Leaning on the railing of the nightclub, she laughed with her friends while she did not lose any detail of what was happening in the rest of the place, especially the dance floor as it stretched before her like a small lake with heads moving under oscillating lights. I was in a more shadowy side because I never danced. Too much I had done with being pushed by my friends, who forced me to dress contrary to my custom, in addition to picking up my long and tangled hair in a ponytail because they said that otherwise the doormen would not let me in. 

I also had to wear a jacket that covered my special edition shirt of Captain America!
Once inside, I took off my coat, untied my ponytail and began to realize that everyone was too well-dressed and my outfit was out of place, but at that point nothing mattered because my attention was focus on her. Someone in full euphoria passing by my side dancing to the music, splashed my glasses with the swing of his glass. 
After cleaning them, I put them back on and when I looked towards the booth I was petrified when I saw that her eyes were fixed on me. I looked around expecting to see some of her friends or some "handsome" or "hunk" she was looking at, but there were just distracted people dancing.
With some hesitation, I half-closed my eyes at her and there she was, looking at me.
And she smiled...A smile that for a few seconds paralyzed me until I, embarrassed, looked down. I could not understand that she was looking at me.

After reflecting a few moments and drinking a sip of my beer, my brain rode at breakneck speed looking for a logical explanation. Why me? I suppose she was looking at me just out of curiosity, maybe I was not fitting in there. And I would not blame her because it was true, I felt misplaced, I was not used to going to those places. I'm from heavy pubs, beer, reading comics, painting miniatures and going to the club for role-playing games. But my lifelong friends, who did not have those hobbies, decided that I would not stay at home that Friday and they practically dragged me to the disco. Yes, I was sure she looked at me for being the "freak" of the place, so I took a deep breath and looked up again but she was gone. I supposed she had gone to the bathroom, so I took another sip of my beer and turned to see what my friends were doing or talking about, but what I found was her face in front of me. Seeing my obvious mental block, she smiled again and my knees trembled before I heard her saying:
—I like your T-shirt.
I opened my mouth to say something, perhaps to say thank you, but I think it was just an unintelligible reedy voice at the time my cheeks were burning at the growing blush. She laughed, showing her pearly teeth this time before taking a sip of her gin and tonic.
Suddenly, the music changed and, with her eyes wide open, she said:
—I love this song! — And grabbing my hand, she dragged me to the dance floor after her stumbling among the people, although I had time to see the drawing of a star shaved in her hair. Being in the middle of the dance floor, she pointed to my T-shirt then, the back of her head and smiling, she asked:
—Well, you know my name yet. What´s yours?
—Steve Rogers—I replied keeping from laughing and she let out a guffaw. I was pleasantly surprised to see I had understood the mention.

It seems like yesterday and three years ago today I danced, who would have thought it, until my feet hurt. Now, seeing this golden circle between my nervous fingers, I just hope that Estrella accepts to keep dancing with me for the rest of my days.

Pepe Gallego                                 Translated by Ariadna B. Alonso