Lana talks them through a few moves while she demonstrates, and then the group copies her.
“This is so exciting,” Tina whispers to me.
“Does it feel more real now that you can see your idea coming to life?”
She nods. “So much more real. But I probably don’t have to come to every practice, do I? I mean, this is fun and all but I don’t think I’m accomplishing much by watching them learn the dance moves.”
This is what I was hoping she would say. “Yeah, of course not,” I tell her. “Don’t feel obligated to stay, either.”
She lets out a sigh of relief. “I’m going to take off, then,” she says.
“Okay. See you later.”
She moves toward me like she’s going to give me a hug, but she pauses with her hands on my shoulders. “Have I told you that you’re the best friend I could have ever asked for?”
I smile and flip my hair dramatically. “Yes, but I never get tired of hearing it.”
She laughs. “I’m serious. You’re turning my dream into the real thing. This is incredible, Priss. Thank you.”
“You know I would do anything for you,” I tell her.
She pulls me in for a hug. When she leaves, I take my phone out of my back pocket. I send a text to Oliver, letting him know that she’s gone. He must not have gone too far, because he shows up only a few minutes later. A couple of his students smile and wave at him when he walks through the door.
When Lana reaches a good stopping point, I step back up to the front of the room, this time dragging Oliver with me.
“Now that Tina is gone, I have another announcement to make. This is Oliver. Some of you may know him as Mr. Edison. For those of you who don’t know, Oliver is a high school band teacher, and his students are in this room with us.” Several of them raise their hands, unprompted. I smile, grateful for their enthusiasm. “Oliver happens to be Ryan’s best friend.”
“Ryan is the guy Tina is proposing to, right?” one of the dancers asks.
“That’s correct. But there’s a twist. Ryan is also planning to propose to Tina, on the same day and at the same fair. Tina has no idea that Ryan is planning this, and Ryan has no idea that Tina is either. It’s going to be a total surprise for both of them. This is where Oliver’s band students come in. Ryan wants a marching band playing when he proposes, so we’ve mixed Oliver’s students into the flash mob. Tina doesn’t know about this part, and we need to keep it that way. As the dance comes to an end, the marching band will then come together out of the crowd and begin the next part of the performance.”
“I love it,” says one of the dancers. A rumble erupts from the crowd as they all start talking to each other. I can’t make out everything that’s said, but I hear a lot of praise for the plan, which makes me happy.
I look over my shoulder at Lana. She’s doing a good job of disguising how much she dislikes this part of the plan. She gives the dancers another moment to trade comments, and then she whistles again, getting everyone back on track.
I find a stool at the back of the room. Oliver pulls a stool up next to mine and sits down. His knee bumps mine. I look down at his leg, and then up at him, but he’s not looking at me. He’s watching the dancers. He doesn’t seem to notice that he’s touching me, but it’s all I can focus on now. My knee feels warm where it touches his. Every nerve ending in my body is connected with the spot where our legs touch.
I have to force my mind to think about anything else. I look back up at the dancers and at Oliver’s students. I can pick most of them out of the crowd, not because I recognize them, but because they’re a little bit younger than the others.
“Your students seem to be having a lot of fun,” I tell him. “They fit right in with all the other improv dancers I found.”
“It looks like they’re making a lot of progress already,” he says.
I nod. “Lana told me that she likes to move fast with flash mobs. Not every dance move needs to be perfect. It just needs to be fun. We only have a few more weeks until the fair, so this whole thing is going to be pretty fast paced from here on out.”
“We’ve been practicing the sheet music for the Sara Bareilles song in class,” he says. “Ryan wants them to play a Jason Derulo song, too. We’ll just have to figure out how to incorporate both of them into the dance.”
“Is that going to be hard?”
He shakes his head. “Shouldn’t be. These are marching band students. They’re used to moving with their instruments.”
We watch as the dancers follow Lana’s lead, practicing a few more steps in the dance.
“So,” Oliver says, nudging my knee with his. “Have you gone on any more dates with Malcolm Ridges lately?”
I look back down at his knee, for a moment too distracted to process his question. Our legs have been touching since we sat down, so this is nothing new. Still, the simple act of him moving my knee with his reminds me that it’s there, and more, that he’s aware of it, too.
When I look back up at him, I find him watching me. I remember that I haven’t answered his question yet. I roll my eyes. “It wasn’t a date.”
