The music begins, loud and heavy, filling every corner of the room, and the girls start dancing. I do too. I may not be a professional, but Lorraine taught me this at a sleepover once. She’s also a freelance choreographer—if I forgot to mention that before.The beat drops, low and heavy, vibrating through the floor and up my legs, and for a second, I let it take over.No thinking. No second-guessing.Just movement.I roll my shoulders, let my hips follow, my body slipping into the rhythm like it’s second nature. The girls behind me fall into sync, their movements sharp and confident, their laughter soft and practiced.And me?I’m smiling.Not because I’m enjoying this. Not really.But because every pair of eyes in this room is exactly where I want them to be.On me.Especially Luca’s.He would have never guessed that I could move like this—that I could do anything e
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