‘Come one, dance with me!’ I laughed, bending down to grab Whitney’s hands. She kept them limp, sinking further back into the couch.
‘Beck, stop,’ she rolled her eyes, putting up only the faintest resistance. A slight smile fought a war at the corners of her mouth, and I grinned wider at the sight.
‘Nope, come on!’ I said, pulling her off the sofa with an exaggerated groan. She allowed herself to rise, and reluctantly started to move to the record we had blaring.
‘See, we’re having fun, no?’ I laughed again, closing my eyes and whipping my hair back and forth.
‘The neighbours are gonna complain!’ Whitney said, sheepishly looking over at the door.
‘Then thank god we won’t hear them knock!’ I said, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to swing to my tempo.
‘Babe, it’s too hot for this,’ she gave me a final attempt at escape.
‘Look,’ I said, jiving across the room away from her and yo-yoing back, ‘sitting on the couch isn’t going to find us somebody who can do an air conditioning service near Hawthorn, is it?’
‘I was literally looking at my phone when you grabbed me.’
‘Unhelpful,’ I shook my head. ‘This is much better.’
‘How?’
‘It’s actually a ritual from my culture,’ I explained, straight-faced. ‘My people believe that if you dance like this—’ I struck a disco pose — ‘then an air conditioning installer will appear.’
‘That’s ridiculous,’ Whitney said, pulling out her phone again.
‘My traditions are useless to you?’ I asked in mock horror. ‘Who even are you?’
‘I’m the person who’s going to find us a company near the Bayside area that instals heating and cooling systems,’ she said. ‘But please, keep dancing like an idiot.’
‘Like this?’ I asked, holding my nose and dropping into a dive.
‘Exactly,’ she laughed.
A sharp knock sounded on our door and we both looked toward the sound. I quickly dashed over and turned off the music.
‘Who is it?’ Whitney asked.
‘Did somebody ask for an air conditioning installation?’
Her eyes widened.