Page 72 of Bound By Stars
He pulls me along in the same steps, but he’s taller than Jupiter and far less graceful. Our movements feel out of control, and when the other couples swirl around us, I’m sure we’ll end up in a pile on the wood floor. When he spins me out to find my place on the other side of the circle, I’m as relieved as I am dizzy.
Pressing a hand to my chest, I take a long breath to settle my churning stomach.
In the center of the circle, Skye and Jupiter twirl together, face to face, grinning and laughing as they disappear between other couples. I guess I never noticed how close they are. Something ugly knots my stomach, but I immediately smother it. Skye is my friend. And so is Jupiter.
The song ends and everyone applauds.
On the other side of the group, Skye holds Jupe’s shoulder for support like she’s about to crumple. When they recover, he kisses her cheek and then turns away. His eyes soften when he finds me in the crowd. Different from the way he looked at Skye. Because I’m new? Because he’s obsessed with Earth? Or is it something else?
Jupiter crosses the disbanding circle, unaware of anyone in his path, and stops in front of me. “Can I have another dance, or do you need a break?”
People partner up again. Couples move through basic steps around us.
Across the room, Jupiter’s mother is engrossed in conversation, her back turned.
I lean close to whisper, nodding toward her. “Want to get out of here?”
His eyes stay glued to me, and a devious grin spreads across his face. “Absolutely.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jupiter
Eighteen days to Mars
In the hall, Weslie squeezes my hand and cuts to the left. The stairwell is colder like it’s more exposed to space, too unused or unimportant to heat. Our shoes clink against the metal stairs, echoing behind us like a trail of past moments trapped in the upper levels. As we cross another landing, I run my hand along the railing and peer down through the open cavern in the center. Weak light traces flights of stairs and platforms spiraling down into complete darkness.
Weslie hits a button on sublevel three, and I expect a dark cargo hold, empty and private, but noise bursts through the open door.
The narrow hall is packed. Ceiling low. Light dim. All conversations are at full volume, like no one cares who hears them or what they think. Pulsing music grows under the voices until we pass into a dark room where bright-colored laser lights swing around the space, swirling and crossing and illuminating the tightly packed throng of bodies inside. The air reminds me of the greenhouses at home, warm and humid. Along the perimeter of the circular room, people shout to each other, spilling their drinks and laughing. In the center, a tangle of arms and bobbing heads move together to the thumping bass.
Inside the door, Weslie stops, pushing my jacket off my shoulders. Her fingers run over my arms, and my heart beats faster. She tugs on a sleeve, and I untangle from the coat. Tossing it on the back of an empty chair, she takes my hand again.
Weslie pulls me along, weaving between dancers and clearing a path through the crowd. She doesn’t stop until we’re in the center of the room smashed between bodies, all writhing and bouncing with the music.
I lean in close to Weslie’s ear. “Are you going to be okay?” I’ve noticed how she avoids the elevator. She’s not a fan of tight spaces, but here, packed in with all these people, she looks at home.
“Are you?” she shouts over the noise, already jumping with the others. Tilting her face to the high ceiling, she closes her eyes like she’s bathing in sunlight instead of packed into a pulsing mob at the center of a dark room.
From the mezzanine surrounding the dance floor, a man hangs over the railing, cupping his hands around his mouth and whooping. Everyone in the room joins in.
Bright green light flashes across my face, turning Weslie into a dark silhouette. Her shoulders sway with the beat as she moves with the other dancers. Completely uninhibited. Free. No sign of the usual protective mask she wears upstairs.
In the chaos, noise, and darkness, my mind wanders through the scenes her stories have painted for me. The garden behind her house. The fruit orchards. Her mother’s cluttered worktop. The paths between the oak trees. And I imagine myself there with her, her face the way it looks now. Unguarded. Happy. And a deep ache builds in my chest. For a place I’ve never been. Never seen. For a life I’ve never had. But in this moment, it feels possible.
I reach for her, but a woman with glitter painted across her cheeks rolls between us, holding my chest and passing inches from my face before being swallowed into the crowd again.
Two men cut through the dancing mob, bridging their hands over and around me, forcing me into their rhythm for a beat. They release me and come back together on my other side, pressing close as purple light passes over them.
“Did you want to go back?” Weslie shouts close to my ear.
I realize I’ve been standing still. A spectator. Entranced. “No.”
She lays a hand on my shoulder, moving with the music again as it builds like we’re waiting for an explosion.
The bass vibrates in the floor, through my shoes. The beat drops and the energy surges, movements bigger. Everyone follows the same rhythm, but they all dance for themselves. There’s a total freedom in it that I’ve never seen before. A warm, glowing sensation bleeds through me, filling me. I bounce and sway with the crowd, giving in to the push and pull of collective movement, the energy, the music, the euphoria.
The song morphs into something gentler, more rhythmic. My mind goes numb. My breaths and heartbeat merge with the pulsing music. The bass reverberates in my ears, drowning out thought.
