Page 139 of Let Us Prey

“From the top!”

I give the honey badger an incredulous look as I pant, shifting from foot to foot while I stretch my calves. This rehearsal is one of the most intense workouts I’ve had in a long time.

Sure, we all danced for two days straight at the rave, but we were floating on clouds of Pink Flamingo Fishbowls and lusty pred-stasy. Or, Fitz was, because I’m not ready to try more than the alcoholic enhancements, no matter how many of my guys are there to back me up. Those three days were the most carefree I’ve felt in my entire life, and now I’m back at this damn school.

Dancing in black lights is much sexier than dodging bullies and letting my bestie torture every muscle in my body for hours on end. The level of regret I feel for revealing my acrobatic ability is bone deep at this point. I’ve done so many flips and handsprings since this morning that I may have scrambled my brains.

Rufus is a tinpot dictator with directing, and someone I’m currently sleeping with gave him control of the entire show.

“Ru-Ru, we need to take a break. I can’t run tricks twenty times in a row; I’m going to pass out.” I pair my statement with a pleading look, noting the other dancers and cast look ragged as well.

His face screws up, but Cori quickly intercedes. “This is going to be the best number the talent show has ever seen, but not if someone gets hurt while we rehearse.”

That seems to register.

“Fine! Take ten, but make sure you’re reviewing the counts. The leopards are all late at the beginning of the newspaper section. It’s hold… 1,2,3,4… jump on 5,6… open 7,8! That’s what rips the paper and starts the hardest section of the dance break. It has to be right!”

Walking over to him on my toes as I work the cramps out of my arches, I give my friend a stern look. “It’s even more important that they pick up the fucking papers and throw them. If I hit one of those while I’m tumbling, I’ll be lucky if I don’t rocket off the stage.”

Cori snorts. “I thought you were going to kick that gator’s ass when she stepped into your coupé-jeté.”

“We’re lucky Dolly got Professor Sarabhai to extend extra credit to the dance students, or we wouldn’t have enough people to do this performance justice,” Rufus grumbles as he drops to a crouch with his scribbled notes.

Cori and I exchange a look. She’s glowing like a rainbow goddess while I look like a pastel rat, but her part isn’t nearly as active as mine. There were only two dancers who could tumble willing to work with us. The others are strictly#TeamHeathers, and I refuse to risk someone tripping me on purpose. My punk rock friend was determined to direct one of the hardest dance scenes from Broadway, so I’m covering a lot of the harder dance and gymnastics moves. It’s exhausting and I have to rest for a while.

But it can’t hurt to get in more cardio when there’s a goddamn sociopath loose, right?

The polar bear plops onto the boards, and I follow her, wincing when my ass hits the ground. My muscles are screaming like they were by the end of the Festival. I may have misjudged how sore I am, and I’ll be lucky to get up when we start up again. Rufus arches his brow, tilting his head like he’s caught the scent of a tasty treat. Ducking my head to avoid his sharp gaze, I subtly shift my weight until I’m comfortable.

“Why, Dollypop, is there something wrong?” he coos. His grin is almost feral, and I realize I’ve triggered the one thing that will distract my friend from his tyrannical reign in the director’s chair—sex.

More specifically, gossiping about sex.

“No,” I reply, as I lean back on my arms to relieve the pressure on my achy backside. I try to keep my expression neutral, but I’m not sure it will work. He’s going to know and I might die on the spot.

Looking between the two of us with her colorful curls bouncing, Cori frowns. “What am I missing, guys?”

His smirk deepens as he watches me squirm, but eventually, Rufus turns to the bear. “I’m calling bullshit on our little bunny. Either she’s gotten very adventurous with her… back door or someone’s been getting naughty with a paddle. Which is it, Dollybear?” I open my mouth to deny it, but he shakes his head. “Don’t even try it; I've been around the trailer park long enough to recognize the signs, girl.”

Fuck. I should have known I wouldn’t be able to hide this from them.

A little voice in my head tells me I shouldn’t be hiding it from my friends anyway, and I bite my lip. I’m still learning to share things, and though I’m not as embarrassed as I used to be, this was a novel experience. I don’t want to look foolish, because for all Iknow, I did something wrong. However, if Cori and Rufus can talk me through it, maybe I can make it even hotter next time.

If there is a next time…

My ass throbs again, and I wiggle until I find a new position to ease the ache. “Um. I… no… the second thing.”

Way to look like a hopeless newb, Dolly.

“Ohhhhh,” Cori breathes. “That explains a lot, actually.”

“Like what?” I wrinkle my nose, feeling a flush creep up my chest. I know they can see it in my skimpy dance clothes and it makes me feel even more ridiculous.

Rufus barks a laugh. “We’re not judging you, babe. There’s no shame in the game. If you both enjoy it, why not indulge? I sure as fuck do.” He pauses and looks at Cori before turning back to me. “I’m only concerned you didn’t get taken care of, and that’s why you’re squirming like a whore in church.”

“You’re going to need an ice pack. It will still help, even if it wasn’t done right away. Let me send the stage manager after one,” Cori says as she rolls to her feet. “Patrice!”

Nervousness floods my veins as I watch her stalk to the otter shifter, her hands gesticulating wildly as she gives her instructions. Rufus is observing me as he taps on his phone, and it’s making me worry about my obvious lack of knowledge in this arena. He says they aren’t judging me, but they look more frustrated than they’re letting on. Every time I let go of my fears and get wild, I do something wrong and tick people off.

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