Lie Until You Laugh

22- Finales

“Gianna and her two bimbos are good. I hate to admit that, but as I watch them dance around the Arena stage on Friday night, I have to give them their props. They’re dancing to 23 by Miley Cyrus wearing pretty much only underwear. It’s probably the sluttiest thing I’ve ever seen. So slutty in fact, that it puts Miley herself to shame. I think that they were trying to outdo our dance from last week that was sexy, but it was classy too. Gianna didn’t catch the classy part of that and just decided to dry hump the stage. But like I said, it’s good. It’s trashy and disgusting, but depending on the judges, it’s good.

“Do you think they could win?” Stella whispers to Penn, who is standing to the left of Stella and I’m on her right with Mason on the other side of me. We’re all standing behind the stage, looking on from behind the curtain as they perform.

He shrugs. “I really don’t think so.”

“I feel like I’m catching their diseases just by watching this,” Mason mutters. “It’s gross.”

“It’s kind of funny though,” I laugh. “But very disturbing.”

Penn looks over at me and I blush, looking down at my feet. Ever since Tuesday when he told me that he likes me, we haven’t talked about it at all. I keep replaying the whole thing in my head and whenever I do, I internally giggle and feel really incredibly girly. Penn likes me. He likes me like that. I’m too nervous to actually talk to him about it though because I don’t know what I’d say. I still can’t find it in me to tell him that I like him back. I mean, I know that I do (or I wouldn’t be so giddy about the whole thing) I’m just not brave enough to actually say. To anybody. All of practices through the week were strictly about dancing and there were no side conversations between me and Penn.

“They’re almost done, so get ready. You’ll have five minutes to get ready,” Penn tells us.

We nod and Stella leads us away from the stage towards the small closet-like room that we have to touch up our hair and makeup before we perform.

“We’ve got this,” Mason assures me as we all make sure our hair is wavy enough. We are doing the same thing that we did last week- keeping it down so that we can flip it around and whatnot. Our dresses are a purplish-maroon color and it’s lacy. There’s a belt on the waist and then below the belt, it flows down and stops just below mid-thigh. We’re wearing black stockings that go right above the knee and then black dancing shoes.

“We’ve definitely got this,” Stella nods in agreement.

“It won’t be hard to beat the Miley Cyrus wannabes,” I add with a small laugh, flattening out my dress.

“It will be when you’re stuck in here,” I hear Ada’s snicker from the other side of the closed door that leads out to the hallway. Before we can say anything back through the door, we hear something click and then we hear her running away.

“Did she just do what I think she just did?” Stella wonders as Mason, who is closest to the door, walks over and tries to open it.

“It’s locked,” She confirms. “The bitch locked us in here!”

“We have two minutes to get out there,” I announce, as if that makes the situation any better.

“Mason, just call Brian,” Stella says.

“I can’t,” She states. “He has our phones, remember?”

I do remember- we asked Brian to hold our phones so that they didn’t get stolen while being held in the closet-like room that we’re in right now. That decision is obviously biting us in the ass right now.

“What are we going to do?” Stella whines.

I shrug and lean against the wall. “Kill them maybe?”