When she entered, the lights on the ceiling shined straight down into the stage, straight into Charleigh's eyes. She blinked rapidly as she wavered her face from the ceiling and glanced around the stage, hoping for a familiar face. She saw Kellen, who was sitting on the black stage with a phone in his hand. He was staring at it with full intent. S she immediately rushed over to him. "I thought you would be practicing until the last minute," she joked when she reached him, "It's fancy seeing you here this early."

Kellen looked up from his phone startled. He put his phone away and smiled. "I couldn't practice anymore," he responded, still smiling. "I felt bored."

"And where is Ellie?" she asked, turning her head to find the small girl, but she was nowhere in sight.

"Probably in her room," he said, now fiddling his phone with nervous fingers. "Honestly, we got into a fight, and I don't know if she's coming or not."

Charleigh did not know how to respond, so she just stood awkwardly, nodding titteringly. "I know," she said, unsure what she was saying right now, "But I hope the best for you two." She was stricken by her own words. The best for you two? She internally screamed at herself. What on earth was that?

Kellen only gave her a half smile, and she knew that "the best for you two" was the worst response one could give to another when the other person was going through some trouble.

Thankfully, before Charleigh could say anything more to cover what she just said, Marco appeared in her side vision. "Hello Charleigh," he greeted her, and he looked down at Kellen, who was still sitting down. "What's up."

As the boys were busily chattering, Charleigh couldn't resist but to observe Marco. His hair was less messy this time—he had combed it for sure. He was wearing a slightly tight blue long sleeve, showing off his broad shoulders, and wore khaki pants held by a dark brown belt. She wondered how Marco would ever have the time to work out as a pianist. If she was unable to find herself the time to lift some weights or run. But then, she remembered how much time she wasted on her phone these days. She indeed had the time to work out.

Marco caught her staring at him, and she snapped out of her thoughts. He smiled at her. "Do you want to be my partner?"

"What time is it?" was the only thing she responded.

"It's almost. . . .", he looked at his watch, "two o'clock." He looked back at her; his mouth was curled up into a smirk. "Well, can we be partners?"

"Okay."

Some girls were paired with other girls, and some with the opposite sex, but because of the scarce ladies, many boys had to dance with each other. So, most of the dance partners were both boys. It was not like they did not mind—they were laughing at each other like they were watching a comedic show as they over-exaggerated their moves, practically running around the stage.

"Remember, it's okay to just put your hands on the shoulders of your partners if you find it more comfortable," Dr. Hulley announced loudly.

Charleigh's left hand was laid upon Marco's left shoulder, and his was barely touching her waist. "Have you danced before?" she asked him, her eyes fluttering at the others because she could not bear to look at the face of somebody who was close to hers.

"No, not really," he replied, his eyes not leaving hers. Though she was not returning the gaze, she felt her cheeks beginning to blush. She tried to snap out of it. "We're all doing well at our part," Charleigh said, "and look, everyone is dancing so well." She laughed. "We're all pianists, so that makes sense. Our sense of rhythm is unmatched!"

Marco didn't even look around. "The way you talk is so different than a few years ago," he said. "More old-fashioned like in classic books."

She blushed even more. "I've been reading classics recently, and just that."

"I can tell. Maybe I should talk like you as well, m'lady?" he said teasingly, and she laughed again. "No, please continue with your 'modern' way of talking," she said. "I should also talk modernly."