Zoe grabs my hand and screams something. I have no idea what she said, but her eyes are bright and she’s smiling at me like I’m the only person in the room, so I hold on tight and let her lead me. We snake through the writhing, sweaty crowd, dodging flailing limbs and flying hair, until we’re right in the middle of the stage. When we reach the base of the cage, Zoe throws her head back, closes her eyes, and starts to dance. Normally it takes me a couple of minutes to fall into the rhythm of a dance floor, but here, everyone is so caught up in their own ecstatic motion that it feels like nobody’s watching. I’m warm all the way through from the whiskey and the heat of the crowd. As the beat speeds up, I snake both arms up above my head, raise my face to the neon lights, and spin around and around. I feel free and fizzy and dangerous and lit up from the inside.
One song fades into another and another, and I lose track of time completely. Somewhere in this crowd is Livvy in her corset and Jessa in her handkerchief and Kenji and Todd and Pandora and Russell, but all that exists for me is Zoe. The crowd presses her closer and closer to me as we dance, and I don’t back up to make room. Pretty soon she’s got her hands on my hips and her body right up against mine, and everything in me goes, Yes. My arms have nowhere else to go, so I loop them around her neck. Our knees scissor together, and for a minute it’s awkward, the movements of our bodies fumbling and unsynchronized. But Zoe looks straight into my eyes and smiles, and I find her rhythm and sink into it. I’ve seen girls dance like this before, rocking their hips back and forth like they’re one eight-limbed, two-hearted animal, and I know it doesn’t necessarily mean anything. But I’m sure I’ve never felt this kind of connection to another person, even when Jason used to push me up against a wall and kiss me until I lost my breath.
A new song starts, one of those ubiquitous ones about freedom and summer and falling in love, and Zoe grabs my hand and leans in to say something. Her lips are so close, they brush my ear, but the music is loud enough that I can still barely hear her scream, “Let’s go!”
I look at her like, What? She can’t possibly want to leave already. But then she tips her head up toward the empty cage, and I realize what she means. Part of me is so not ready for this, but a bigger part is thrilled as Zoe leads me up the steps and behind the bars. The crowd cheers as she closes the door behind us and puts her hands on my hips, her front pressed to my back like she’s spooning me. Everyone is watching us, but this doesn’t feel anything like the kiss at the cast party. This doesn’t feel like a game. It’s suddenly very clear to me that after tonight, everything’s going to be different between us.
I have no idea how long we dance in the cage, but by the time we’re done, I’m soaked in sweat, and I’m delirious with exhibitionism and the feel of Zoe’s skin. My legs are trembling a little, and I stumble in my heels and trip down the last two steps, but someone catches my arm and helps me balance. I look up, up, up into Russell’s face.
“Thank you!” I shout, but I’m not sure he can hear me, so I give him a hug instead. I’m so happy to see him; I love everyone right now. Most of the company is dressed in leather and sparkles and booty-shorts and tulle, but Russell’s in his standard T-shirt and jeans, and it’s comforting. It reminds me that this evening is really happening, that it’s not some crazy fever dream.
“You okay?” he hollers when I pull back. I nod hard, and he smiles. “You looked awesome up there.”
It felt like we looked awesome, but it’s nice to hear it confirmed by someone else. “Thanks!” I shout. “You should go next! Is Olivier here? You should make him dance with you.”
“What?” Russell yells, and I shake my head. There’s no way I’m going to make myself heard over this music.
“Do you want—” Russell starts, but Zoe comes up next to me and grabs my hand.
“Water!” she shouts.
I give Russell a little wave. “See you later,” I yell.
There are big coolers of water on the loading dock, and Zoe and I gulp some down before we head back into the fray, grinning at each other like idiots the whole time. We pass Kenji and Todd near the edge of the stage, and they wrap us up in their sweaty arms and kiss our cheeks and grind with us in an exaggerated, hilarious way. Neither of them has really spoken to me all week, but now it’s like they want me to be their new best friend, and I just go with it. Tonight, I don’t care about whys or hows or what will happen tomorrow. Tonight, I belong with them.
I belong at this festival.
I belong with Zoe.
The party doesn’t end until nearly three. When the music finally stops and the loading dock lights flicker on, Zoe’s beside me in a moment, bedraggled and glowing. She slips her arm through mine and says, “Let’s go home,” and even though I’m way too warm, I shiver. Once we get back to the room, absolutely anything could happen. I’m pretty sure I’m ready.