Because fuck this.
Go big or go home.
The mime’s song ends, the crowd goes a little bonkers, and I get a little worried I don’t know what I’m doing. Because I don’t.
I like to rock climb, so I’m hoping climbing a pole isn’t much harder. I know this entire thing is a joke. And we aren’t actually competing for Bristol, as if she would allow that to happen anyway. But I want to win.
I need to win.
I need to win this dance-off, and Bristol and I need to win the scavenger hunt. The mime and I pass one another as I head to the pole, and he makes a face at me. Yeah, laugh it up buddy—jokes on you.
I hope.
The band starts my song.You Can Leave Your Hat Onby Joe Cocker. I know, it’s a stripper song, but it’s effective nonetheless. The vibe in the crowd shifts immediately like they sense something is about to happen. More would-be passersby stop and gather around to watch. The more people I see, the harder the adrenaline courses through my veins.
I paste a coy smile on my face and press my back to the pole, going low, then snapping back up. My imaginary coat works its way off my body as I attempt to follow the lyrics. Shimmying down the pole one more time only to smoothly slide back up.
I’m not a bad dancer, but I wouldn’t say I’m any good either. I have a sense of the rhythm of music and how to move my body with it, but I’m not the kind of guy to go out dancing in a club or anything like that.
My hips roll and thrust with the beat as I dance with the pole the best I can. The crowd whistles and catcalls, but the only response I care about is Brie’s.
I find her beautiful face in the crowd, shining with excitement. When she cups her hands over her mouth and whoops her appreciation, I take it up a notch.
bristol
My heart is racingwith anticipation, and I’m not even the one dancing. I can feel the energy of the excited crowd around me.
Wyatt starts with his back to the pole, teasingly pulling at an imaginary coat as the music's rhythm wraps around him, like he’s one with the beat. I can’t help but ogle the way his hips roll and body sways—
Blanche:You just know he’s going to be good in bed.
I have a feeling we knew that anyway.
His eyes seek out mine, and he keeps his gaze on me, sending me a sultry smile that makes all the butterflies in my belly dance around.
“Oh, dancing boy is digging you, girl,” someone next to me says.
How can they tell?
Blanche:Pretty sure wanting to kiss you is a good clue.
Blanche:The hard-ons you give him are another.
Yeah, yeah. Okay, I get it.
It doesn’t matter how he feels about me. What matters is my reaction to him. Right now, I’ve got to get rid of these damn butterflies. They are too responsive.
We. Can. Not. Fall. For. Wyatt Reed. Again.
Blanche:Except, did we ever un-fall?
Un-fall is not a word, and that is not the point.
Blanche:What is the point?
Blanche:I can make anything a word when talking to you. You’ll know what I mean.
Wyatt begins a mesmerizing shimmy down the pole, his thigh muscles begging to be admired in those shorts. Someone whistles and yells a throaty “Yeah, baby!” as he returns to standing and sheds his pretend dress and shoes.
