Three.

“No, no, no! Levi!” my instructor screamed as I missed the step once again. I was having a hard time concentrating, and while I usually float away into a world where dancing came easily to me, I just couldn’t get there. My mind was stuck on the things I’d overheard on the way to class today.

Between 8 and 9:30, I sat in History of Dance, a frightfully boring class where I spent the full 90-minutes drooling on my “learning partner” while I was supposed to be learning about the evolution of dance styles and important dance figures. From there, I had to run across campus to my dance hall where I was now. However, when you’re standing in the hallway, surrounding by anxious, chatty dancers, you hear every last piece of campus gossip. I do mean, every last piece. I heard about Tony and Calisa, the couple of the year, and their fight the night before over Tony’s flirting with Calisa’s brother. I heard about an exhausting amount of drunken one night stands and how good some guy named Alex with purple hair was in the sack. Just as I’d given up on hearing anything of internet, a boy I think was named Rylan began whispering behind me to another girl, Rachel.

“I’m telling you, Rach, they make people like the O’Connor twins disappear. They had more than one given skill and they were showing off so they vanished. The government made them go poof. All records of them were wiped, including their online profiles!” he said, his voice rather loud for a conversation like that.

“Keep your voice down, Ry. Do you know what they’d do to you if they ever heard you talking like that?” Rachel hissed.

“Think about it. Didn’t you say your neighbor went missing after he went caroling last winter?” he asked.

“So?”

“Wasn’t he an author? Authors don’t go caroling, Rachel. They stay inside and write novels. He showed off his voice, and then disappeared! Who else do you think would be behind it but the very institution that put these regulations into place?”

I tried to put their conversation from my mind as we all moved back into our original positions. My dance partner, a tall, lean man two years older than me named Jesse, put his hands on my waist and turned me to face him. Jesse has been my dancing and learning partner since freshman year. When you enter college, or “Higher Education Learning Center,” as the government calls it, you are assigned a partner of the opposite sex. This is also the person they’re hoping you’ll marry and create little babies with your particular skill. However, that’s never how it works, and it doesn’t seem to be working here either. No offense to Jesse, but he wasn’t exactly my type. He was tall, as mentioned, with a full head of straight black hair and big brown eyes, coupled together on a baby face. He had long, seemingly endless limbs and looking at him, you think there’s no way he’s a dancer. He shouldn’t be as graceful as he is, and he shouldn’t be able to move like he can, but somehow Jesse Lucas is the best male dancer in the whole “Higher Education Learning Center.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, glancing at our instructor. She was a thin, short woman named Carrie Lu, who icy blue eyes and long black hair that was pulled back into a perfect, severe bun. She was tiny, but scary and intimidating as hell. One stare could silence an entire dance crew and one bark of her surprisingly booming voice could fell an ox half a mile away.

“Yeah, I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now.”

“Try to forget about it for now. We’ll talk during break. Right now, dance and try not to piss off the Lu.”

“Yes, sir,” I replied. He kissed me on the forehead and then turned me around, facing the wall-sized mirror and the Lu. His familiar hands found my waist and the Lu started up the music again. I shut down my thoughts and let my body move to the music, feeling Jesse beside me. Before I knew it, we’d reached the end of our practice hour and Jesse was leading me out into the hall, bags thrown over our shoulders.

“Where do you want to go for break?” he asked, leading me down the hall towards the back stairs. “I hear Marie’s has a great new latte special that’s apparently to die for.”

The back stairwell was dark, having no windows, and was eerily quiet, considering it wasn’t a popular path. Jesse and I liked this way because no one wanted to take the staircase from a horror film. Everyone either took the lift of the front, well-lit stairwell.

“Forgive me, but I’m not up for Marie’s today. Too many dancers.”

“Okay. No problem. What about The Prancing Dancer? You know people like us avoid it, because of the looks we get.”

“Actually, what about BonBon?”

“BonBon? Really? No one goes to BonBon anymore. It’s social suicide to be seen there this year.”

“That’s exactly why we should go. No one else will be there, and I don’t really want anyone to hear,” I said.

“Is it that bad, Lee?”

“Yeah. No. I don’t know, Jesse. I just don’t want to be heard, just in case.”

I reached up to push my dark hair from my face when I noticed how bad I was shaking. Jesse noticed as well and pulled me into a hug when we reached a landing, wrapping his arms around my waist and just holding me against his chest. I was so much shorter than Jesse that my head only reached his shoulder.

“I don’t know what’s got you so scared, Levi, but it’s gonna be okay. I’m not gonna let them get you. Okay?”

I nodded and played with the soft fabric of his practice t-shirt. We stayed there for a moment before I let out a heavy breath. I stepped back and straightened his t-shirt.

“Okay, I’m good. Let’s just go to Marie’s. I feel like that latte would be good for me right now.”

“Are you sure? I can commit social suicide for you. I don’t have much of a social life anyway,” he replied. I laughed and pulled him towards the stairs.

“That’s because you choose not to have a social life. You could get any girl you wanted, if you put your mind to it.”

“Nah. I’ll be fine being single for now. I have to look after you, remember?”

I laughed.

“You act like I’m a little defenseless girl who can’t look after herself.”

“You’re a dancer. What are you gonna do if some big scary man tries to mug you?”

“Need I remind you that you are a dancer as well? What exactly are you gonna do if I get mugged?”

“I don’t know. I could probably cause more damage than you could.”

“You don’t know that. I’m quite scrappy, thank you very much.”

“Hold up. If you don’t want anyone to hear us, why don’t we talk here? No one is going to hear us here.”

“Are you sure? Do you want to spend your break in a dark stairwell with me? People are gonna talk. Hanging with me must be worst social suicide than anything else,” I asked. It wasn’t like I was a social pariah, but I wasn’t that popular among the other dancers. It’s the Presidential Award, the one that named me a better dancer than them. They hate me because I’ve been awarded it every year since I was Tess’s age. Jesse was also awarded with this same reward, and no one shunned him.

“Oh, come on. I don’t care what they think about me, and neither should you. You are the best dancer in all of Zone freaking 7. And once you graduate, you’ll prove to the entire official committee that you are the best in all of the Zones.”

“Shut up.”

We reached the last floor and set our bags on the gritty cement floor. Without really talking about it, we sat down on the second to last step and pulled the snack that Jesse always kept in his bag for after practice. We had another practice later, a private lesson with Calla Prent, the current winner of Dancer’s Best, a televised event that both Jesse and I would be put through after graduation. But after that lesson, we got to go home.

“What’s been on your mind, Lee?”

“Have you heard about the twins that disappeared?”

“You’re not letting Rylan and Rachel get to you, are you? They talk a lot of nothing at all. You can’t let them plant ideas in your head.”

I sighed and popped open the container of dried fruit trail mix. I popped a dried cranberry into my mouth and leaned my head against Jesse’s thin shoulder.

“I know, but it scares me. I don’t want that to happen to you, or Devin, or Tess,” I offered. “I don’t know what I’d do if one day you just disappeared, Jesse.”

“I won’t. You know why?” he asked.

“Why?”

“Because I am exceedingly ordinary.”

“You are not!” I said, punching him in the arm.

“What’s so special about me?” he asked. “Tell me, Levi. I have gotten the Presidential Award all of what? Two years. You have managed that since you were 14. There’s nothing extraordinary about me. I’m not you. I’m not stunning and talented and brilliant. I’m just, Jesse.”

“But I like Just Jesse.”

“Thanks, Lee.”

“I’m serious. You’re amazing. I don’t care how ordinary you think you are, man. I love you.”

He kissed my hair and sighed.

“If only a gal thought like you.”

Once in a while, you meet a fantastic person. A truly, wonderfully beautiful person. Maybe not someone you want to spend your life with, but someone you want to be in your life forever. Jesse was that person for me. He had been my best friend since the day we were forced together, and I wouldn't change it. I wouldn’t ask to change it. We really weren’t much alike, and I never could figure out what made us “perfect learning partners.”

“Why did this scare you so much?” Jesse asked, steering the conversation away from himself. He never was comfortable with talking about himself. When professors asked for a small introduction in front of the class, Jesse would mumble and stare at his hands until he’d fumbled his way through a short summary of his life and he’d hurry back to his chair. That wasn’t really like me. Maybe that’s why we were put together, because we weren’t anything alike. I was the first person to speak most of the time, to speak my mind and to speak out. I always had to defend Jesse, despite my lack of social standing. Well, I didn’t have to, but I did anyway.

“I don’t know. Because no one likes me, so maybe they’d turn me in.”

“No one would turn you in, Levi. I wouldn’t let them,” he assured me.

“Even you can’t protect me from things like that. You’re a superhero, but the government doesn’t care about superheroes. They wipe out superheroes. That’s what I’m scared of, Jesse. They take everything unique in the world and snuff it out because they’re scared. I’m afraid that someone will slip up and they’ll just no longer be in my world. I can’t handle that.”
I stopped talking as a door opened a floor above us. Footsteps descended towards us, while a pair of voices whispered. I slid down a step, and sliding between Jesse’s legs, creating space for the other pair to pass down. They quieted as they passed. They were two professors in the one of the history wings, Professor Thompson and Professor Manore, dressed in pristine black suits with matching deep blue ties. Each area of profession was assignment a specific color to wear to identify them. It was hard to remember which area was each, but I knew History was dark blue, and Dance was this very gorgeous shimmering dark purple. They didn’t pay us a single mind as they left the stairwell, disappearing through the door that connected into the basement. I stood up and went to glance through the small window.

“Don’t spy. You’re gonna get caught,” Jesse warned.

“I’m not spying. I’m observing.”

“Stop observing then. Do you want to get in trouble?”

“Isn’t it odd that two History professors are in the dance hall?”

“Not really. They have most staff meetings here, I think. Now stop being nosy.”

I shushed my friend and watched as Professor Manore opened a door in the hall which Professor Thompson quickly slipped through, glancing back and forth before he followed and shut it behind himself.

“Why are they being so secretive?” I voiced aloud.

“Maybe they’re in love and have to use the boiler room to make sweet love to one another,” Jesse replied. I turned my head to look at him. He was stretched out, leaning back on the steps behind him, and his legs resting on the ones below him. He grinned at me and popped a dried cranberry into his mouth.

“Don’t be a smart ass.”

“Why else would they sneak into the basement, Levi? Think about it. Do you really think that those two professors are secret agents or planning to take down the government? What’s more likely, they’re banging or they’re rebels?”

I sighed.

“You’re right. I’ve just been hypersensitive lately. Everything’s out to get me,” I explained.

“How about we get some lattes from the coffee cart? It’ll get your mind off of everything and I need caffeine or else I’m going to pass out during lessons again.”

I laughed and abandoned the door. I held my hand out to my dance partner. He took it and I pulled him up off the stairs. We shouldered our backpacks and headed outside through the thick metal door that opened to the cobbled pathway that connected with everything on campus. It was small and unused, because of its proximity to the river bank but Jesse and I liked it for that reason, for the same reason we liked the back stairwell. We could use it without being harassed or stared at. We followed the path parallel to the back of the building for as long as it went, turning to run parallel with the side until we came out from behind the Dance Hall’s protection, joining our classmates once again in the courtyard.

“I think I’m just gonna get a water,” I said as we headed towards the far end of the courtyard where the coffee cart was set up beside the archway connecting the Science Hall and the Library. The campus was set up so everything was in a big circle; all set around the courtyard, and more importantly, the statue. I hated the statue, with its all-seeing eyes that seemed to follow you around the courtyard. It had four figures mounted on a marble base. They were the four creators of our New Constitution, all looking regal and menacing in stone suits, their hands resting on their hearts like they were reciting the Pledge of Allegiance; Frederick Fredrickson, Miles von der Osten, Austin Reiking and Martin Glocester. No matter where you stood, one of them was staring at you, whether you were in the library and Glocester’s eyes followed you as you searched for a book, or you were in the Dance Hall and von der Osten’s watched your every step, your every hip sway. It’s unnerving and whenever I’m in a room that faced the courtyard, I try to face away from the statue.

“I will never get over how creepy the statues are,” I commented as we passed into Frederickson’s gaze, walking in front of the Mess Hall and then the Linguistics Hall. We turned, walking towards the cart, finding Glocester’s eyes following us.

“You won’t have to put up with them for much longer, think of it that way.”

“Must you always be an optimist?”

“Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence,” he said.

“Are you quoting something specific or just babbling Ghandi mumbo-jumbo again?”

“Helen Keller,” he replied.

“Optimism is the madness of insisting that all is well when we are miserable,” I quoted back to him.

“Who said that?”

“Voltaire.”

We reached the coffee cart where a boy with long eyelashes and a nametag announcing his name as KELLIN was staring blankly into space, waiting for a customer. He was the regular coffee cart guy, having taken up the job after flunking his RSEs in high school. He was quite handsome with dirty blonde hair that he kept short and dark green eyes. He had the softest hands, the kind of hands that had never known a single day of physical labor. His parents must’ve been rich, since he hadn’t been hauled off to the work camps when he flunked. He would gladly recite his life story when bored, I’d found one day when Jesse was sick and I was alone. It sucks having only one friend sometimes.

“Hello Kellin,” I said, sliding up next to him. He looked up and smiled, showing off his perfectly pearly white teeth.

“Hello Levi, what are you having today?” he asked while Jesse stayed back, reading the list of available options. He’d stay that way, pretending he was severely interested in the list while I flirted with Kellin.

“Actually, I was hoping you have a bottle of water?” I asked, biting my lip and batting my eyelashes at him. He wasn’t actually supposed to sell the bottles of water he had in the refrigeration box in the cart. They were for rinsing out the coffee pots and filling the hot water canister.

“You know I’m not allowed to sell you those,” he replied.

“But you will, won’t you? For me?” I asked, sliding closer to Kellin. I was practically hung off his arm, tucking myself into his warmth. He was taller than me, just a few inches shorter than Jesse. He fixed those emerald eyes on me and I smiled my cutest smile at him.

“Alright, for you. Don’t go spreading it around or else I’ll need to find a new job. Again,” he said. He reached into the box and pulled out an unopened, cold bottle of spring water and handed it to me. “It’s on the house, on account of how cute that smile is.”

I kissed his cheek and slid back to stand with Jesse who looked between us.

“Can I get a latte?” he asked politely.

“Sure, man. Do you want the extra espresso shot?”

“No,” I answered, looking to Jesse who had his mouth open, ready to answer for himself. “No, he does not.”

“Yes, Mom,” he grumbled. We waited, watching Kellin finish making the drink, paid him before waving our goodbyes and heading towards a spot on the grass near the Dance Hall. We gracefully sat on the grass, watching a couple of athletes tossing a football back and forth.

“Why’d you go with water?” Jesse asked.

“I think extra caffeine would just make me that much more jittery today. It wouldn’t be good for anyone. And I’d rather die than drink decaf coffee.”

He nodded sympathetically.

We sat in silence, just observing everything and everyone. The athletes seemed incapable of staying in one spot, always throwing the ball too far or too left for the person catching. I was fascinated with how their hands cradled the ball as they pulled it out of the air and how they seemed the merely flick their wrist to send it soaring back.

“Alright. We should get to class. Methods of Dance awaits,” Jesse said, standing up and heading towards the nearest trash can. I stood as well, waiting for him to return when I saw it. The farthest athlete sent the ball flying, too high and too powerful for his partner to catch, flying through the air straight towards me. Without thinking, I caught the ball and adjusted it in my hand, before pulling my arm back and throwing the ball back, watching with a smirk as it spiraled perfectly and landed in the farthest athlete’s hands.

“What the hell was that?” Jesse asked.

I turned to tell him that I’d just thrown the perfect spiral when it hit me. I’d just shown off my second skill. What the hell had I just done?