Kylie shouted, arms up over her head as she dropped down low on the dance floor on orders from Flo Rida. I wasn’t going to attempt that move, knowing I’d end up on my ass. And not in a good way. I just bounced from side to side, pretending that I knew how to dance. The reality was, I had a respectable sense of rhythm, but my arms never seemed to coordinate with my legs. I tended to look like a heron searching for a fish when I attempted dances that had choreographed moves. Fortunately, it was a typical Saturday night at the club just off campus, and everyone was too drunk to notice what I was or wasn’t doing. I did enjoy dancing, just not when someone was recording it on a phone. Kylie, Jess, Robin, and I were out for the night, and on strict instructions from Kylie, no guys were allowed. After a week of seeing Tyler every day, I was mostly okay with that. He was working anyway, and I didn’t want to be one of those girls who started seeing a guy and then ignored her friends completely.
