Lies We Tell ✔

The Forty-first Dance

There was no other way to put it. Dancerush was, well, a rush. Even in my listless state, I couldn't help but feel awestruck, overwhelmed, by the sheer number of attendees and performers.

"You made this happen," Parker said in wonderment, squeezing my shoulders. "I don't care if Michelle tries to tell everyone this was all her idea. You were the genius behind Dancerush."

It was the first time the university's dance teams had ever come together in one single performance, and we soon figured out why. Soundcheck was a logistical nightmare.

With all sixteen groups flooding the Quad at once, we were surrounded by pure chaos.

The Dance Sensasians ended up huddling as a unit as far away from stage as possible, to protect ourselves from the insanity that was the campus Quad. Everyone kept stealing uncertain glances at me. They'd all heard the story by now. How I'd been attacked by Mandy. But news hadn't gotten out yet that Olivia had been pronounced dead as of that morning.

Dead. Gone. Never to brighten the third floor of West Tower again.

I felt wrong just being here, about to get on stage and dance, when I knew Olivia would never step on a dance stage again.

Sawyer's mouth hung wide open when she finally made it to the small circle of Dance Sensasians, having fought her way through crowds of rowdy dancers to find us.

"Late, as usual," Parker grumbled as he rolled his neck from side to side in a stretch.

Sawyer ignored this. "How many dance teams are part of this again?" she asked, turning around to survey the scene before her, as if confirming that this was actually happening.

"Every single one on campus," Parker clarified.

He wasn't kidding. Groups that I vaguely remembered seeing at Festifall were standing around in clusters. It was easy to pick out Dance 'N' Beats, since they were still by far the flashiest and best-looking crew. A sea of red and gold helped the Chinese Student Association's dance team stand out easily, too. There was a team of girls who had already strapped on their tap shoes, clicking their heels madly on the pavement. A Bollywood dance team was blasting Hindi music, the team members laughing and making up silly dance moves to go along to the beat. Right beside us was a group of mostly Asian members, speaking in what sounded like rapid-fire Japanese.

"This is crazy," Jessica said in awe. She was so stunned that she'd forgotten she'd been stretching out her right arm for at least ten minutes straight now.

"Tell me about it," Tim said. "Three years I've been dancing with this group, and we've never come together with everyone like this before. This is going to be so lit."

"Don't get so caught up in gawking at everyone else that you forget what we're here to do," Parker grumbled. He cast a stern look over the six of us. Rachel and Sawyer lowered their hands guiltily. "Remember that rehearsal when I asked what dance means to you?" We nodded. "I have a task for each and every one of you. By tonight, I want you to tell me what you think Dancerush means to the audience."

"It's the weekend, Danny boy," Sawyer protested. "Can we please give it a rest on the lecture and analysis today?"

Parker glared at her. She sighed and stared at her nails. I guess that meant NO.

The process of soundcheck itself was a nightmare—not just for the group members, but also for the coordinators. By the time it was finally turn for the Dance Sensasians to run through part of our set with the sound crew, we were already thirty minutes behind schedule. I could tell Parker was about ready to give the sound crew the lecture of a lifetime, but he somehow managed to rein it in.