Lover's Dance

My dance moves were on fire. The running man was the perfect choice for Cady Grove’s ’We’re the Shit’, it got everyone laughing and got my heart pumping faster. Beside me, Kayla was tossing her hair back and forth to the music while Jacob jumped up and down.
Casper’s Dance had an in-studio tradition: Every five hours of nonstop working, we’d just stop and dance. It felt nice to let loose every once and awhile and I loved how it felt to laugh.
I dropped the running man for simply waving my arms and twisting my body like those lyrical dancers you could never really understand. I felt a pair of arms around my waist as Ethan picked me up and spun me in circles. I cried out, laughing so hard until he put me down, I turned around and lightly pushed his shoulders before fixing my jacket.
I quickly whipped around when Lori grabbed my hands and pulled me over to dance with her, basically shaking our asses for a few seconds before she ran off to fist pump with Matt.
I hadn’t thought about Josh since I woke up this morning, the only traces of last night being my laptop still open to iTunes and my phone under my bed. I hadn’t thought about the fact that I’d cried –actually cried- and that the nicest guy I’d ever met was to never be spoken to again. I hadn’t thought about that at all, actually I’d focused on getting as much work done and having as much fun as possible with the band.
I was always pretty damn good at lying to people. It wasn’t my favorite thing to do, but I could if needed. The only person I had trouble lying to was myself, and if I was being honest with myself, I’ve been having trouble keeping my mind off of the handsome actor all day. He was like a little bug, constantly in the back of mind fighting for control. Even now, as I did the Macarena I was struggling not to think about Josh Hutcherson.
“Alright guys, dance party’s over.”
Everyone groaned as Amanda walked in and turned off the stereo, going back to their spots. Kayla and Ethan beside the mixer, Matt, Jacob, and Lori sitting on the couch in the back of the room, and Amanda sitting next to the nice guy working the controls to make us sound lovely.
Amanda Nash was the beautiful southern belle we proudly called our manager. We say southern loosely, though she spent a good portion of her life in Georgia with her mom, she was born and raised in Florida and only had an accent around her family- or when she watched CMT. I’ve known Amanda since 7th grade, she was the quirky girl who wore big hoodies and I was the sassy chick that thought heavy black eyeliner was a good idea. She moved to GA in 8th grade though, so were we forced to split up. Coincidentally she was down visiting Disney the same day I was taking my little cousin to the parks, years later when the band was just getting started. Amanda was always known for her amazing ability to organize and get things done, so when I mentioned I was in a band she basically recited her resume to me and asked to manage. We were all a little skeptical at first, since she lived in Georgia, but she somehow was able to manage her life and us from a state away, and when she graduated from high school she came down here immediately and moved in with me. Doubling as our tour manager, Amanda always had her hands full, not to mention having to keep us crazy kids in line. But she somehow got everything done and always had time to join us on our adventures. She was the most laid back girl I knew and the closest I had to a sister.
I made my way back behind the glass and to the microphone, going to record the vocals on our song Let Me In.
“Please don’t tell me, you need more time. I can see it in your eyes that that’s a lie. I never really cared where you’ve been, I just want you to let me in.”
It wasn’t that I was thinking about Josh because I wanted to talk to him, not necessarily. I just thought about him, in general. Josh’s hair, Josh’s hands, Josh’s lips, Josh’s laugh, Josh’s smile. Josh’s eyes and his corny jokes. I thought about last night, and what I could’ve said differently –did I even want to do things differently? I thought about the night we met and how stupid this whole thing was. I wondered if I’d ever be the same, and then I slapped myself because of course I would, Josh was nobody to change me. Then I kicked myself because I wasn’t even sure if that was true or not and then I cursed myself because I’d just screwed up my own lyrics.
“Sorry,” I apologized, shrugging sheepishly as the guy rewound the track so I could start over and Lori looked at me knowingly.

The beach was one of my favorite places in the world. Also on that list was Disney, The House of Blues Orlando, the zoo, and the stage. Three out of five were extremely close, including the beach. Living in the very center of Florida had its perks, one being you were never more than two hours away from a beach on any direction. So it was a habit for us to gather our things and head over to the beach, something we all did quite often actually. And when we did, we always took my car- because it was a convertible and we were cliché like that.
I blasted Mexico by The Staves as we drove, receiving groans from the guys.
“Why are we listening to this slow girly music?” Jacob demanded. I laughed.
“Because it’s my car and I’m in the mood for some lovely music, now shut the fuck up.”
We drove in a frenzy of shouts and jokes –including when I almost killed everyone by slightly veering off the road. Gosh I can’t even keep my mind on the road- until we got out the beach. At which point we grabbed all our stuff and dumped it in the sand. Without hesitating, I threw off my shorts so I was in my bathing suit and ran full speed to the water. There was water and then there was beach water. Beach water, as you know, is salty and left your skin prickling, and it was my favorite. I kicked up some water, closing my eyes so it wouldn't get in my eyes and laughed. I heard Kayla laughing behind me and I turned to see her running towards me, pushing into me and making me fall into the water. I could've, should've been mad, but nothing really bothered me at the beach.
Except, actually, Josh. Every once and awhile, while I'm lying in the shallow water or having a drink, I'd get a flash of his hair. Or his smile -the one where he shows his teeth, that's my favorite. Or I'd start humming a song I'd never heard until last night. I didn't really like that, I didn't like it at all. So I stood from my place in the sand and walked down the beach until I reached the crowded part of the beach. The water was nice and the sun was warm on my back, but that wasn't what I was focusing on.
"Hey."
I looked up at the guy who'd spoken to me, giving him a nice once over. His hair was soaked and dirty blonde, his green eyes sparkling, and his base chest was not bad to look at.
"Hello." I said, smiling.
"Nice waves, don't you think?"
I glanced over into the ocean, seeing a few surfers.
"I don't know," I laughed. "I only surf the internet." He tilted his head in confusion, and I shook my head. "Never mind." I bit my lip and glanced up at him. Hesitating before I smiled and asked, "What's your name?"

"I wanna watch a movie!"
I looked down at the small child standing before me and smiled. "Okay," I nodded, "What do you want to watch?"
I'd been called at the last moment if I could babysit for an old friend so her and her husband could have a night out, so I'd quickly driven over. Shannon was 6 and loved princesses and fairies and wearing her moms shoes, and I thought she was the cutest thing ever.
"Tangled!" She insisted, jumping. I nodded and went to go fetch the DVD from her room, coming back to the living room and setting it up in the TV. I sat back on the couch and she sat on my lap and we started watching the movie.
"And I'll keep wondering, and wondering, and wondering, and wondering when will my life begin." I sang along, lightly ticking the little girl in my lap and making her giggle like a maniac and pull on my sweater.
I loved this movie, I really did. It was funny and entertaining and sweet and romantic, and gosh Flynn Rider was a dream boat.
I cried every time. This stupid movie made me cry every single time. When I watched this for the first time and Flynn died, I was bawling. Now I've settled into a quite whimper, but Rapunzel holding Flynn's lifeless body still got me.
"You were my new dream," Flynn croaked. Rapunzel cried, smiling sadly.
"And you were mine," I whispered with her, feeling the salty tears on my cheeks.
I really did, I guess. Josh was a dream come true and I eagerly awaited falling back asleep and continuing the dream. The other night was a rude awakening, and it left me with only flashes of what could have been. My new dream failed before it even really started.
"Laney are you crying?" Shannon asked tiredly, looking up at me with her big eyes. I laughed.
"Yeah, it's a sad movie." I explained. Shannon nodded and yawned, laying back down on my lap. I could tell she wouldn't last long, she'd be out like a light in a few minutes. I lightly stroked her hair and continued watching the movie. Of course, Flynn came back to life and they lived happily ever after, and Shannon fell asleep. Her parents came home not long after that and thanked me for watching their daughter.
"We just really needed a night to ourselves," Mrs. Wallace admitted, smiling up at her husband. He smiled softly at his wife and leaned down, lightly pressing his lips to hers.
"It's been a month since we've been alone, so it was nice." He laughed. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close before turning to me and smiling.
"Is $50 good?" He asked. I blinked, glancing away from the happy couple.
"Uhm- you don't have to pay me, it's fine."
"Nonsense, just let me get my wallet." He reached in his pocket and pulled out a few bills, handing them to me. Politely, I accepted them and stuffed them in the waist line of my pants.
"Goodnight you guys," I said, "Just call me if you need me to watch Shannon again."
I walked past them and out the door, making my way back to my car. For a second, I sat in my car. The two of them were the perfect couple, so happy and still in love. In my eyes, they had it all.
They were living their dreams.