Page 71

Delores

“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 I know, 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.

Maybe I’m cursed.

When she rejoins us, Cori reaches over and takes my hand. “Okay. Now that’s settled, we need to tell you what else you should do after you ice it.”

“Already on the Amazon, Coco. Medical ass lotion, arnica, and aloe are on the way.” He clicks his screen off before addressing me. “Apply the lotion first after you shower. Once it has some time to sink in, you can use the arnica for bruises. The aloe is in case you do something more ‘slappy’ than ‘thuddy’ later on. It’ll help with redness versus bruises.”

I blink at his unusually serious tone, but I nod. “That’s all after the ice?”

Cori squeezes my hand and grins. “Look, Dolly, we’re all shifters. Sex activates the primal—the animals inside of us—and we all experiment with shit. They made our bodies take pain differently, and for some people, impact play is extremely pleasurable. You will not weird Rufus and me out by getting kinky with one or more of your guys.”

“Fuck knows. They’ve all been around long enough to develop a catalog of kinks and shit,” Rufus adds. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll end up teaching us something.”

“Teach you guys things?” I shake my head, not believing that for a second. “What in the hell could I teach you?”

“Girl, you’ve got all the drool-worthy dirties to play with,” Rufus grins. “Tails, twins, older guys, wings, fangs, claws… and that’s before we get to your fluffy little tail.”

“Ooh!” Cori claps her hands. “I bet they like to chase. Do they chase you, Dolly?”

Panic grips me as I’m flooded with emotions surrounding my experiences with my men. My skin heats—both from arousal and embarrassment—and my friends look at one another and high-five with hoots of laughter.

“They totally do, Coco. Look at her face. The big bad boys like to hunt the pretty bunny.”

“Rufus!” I hiss. He’s talking at max volume, and Patrice is approaching with a variety of ice packs. Her expression changed the moment he said ‘hunt’ and if she runs her mouth, I’ll be dealing with another bullshit slut-shaming media campaign .

“What?” he bats his lashes at me. When Patrice clears her throat behind him, he whips his head around to glare. “Gods, Patrice. Make some noise when you sneak up on people.”

Cori takes the ice packs from her with an apologetic ‘thank you’, but she blessedly waits until the aquatic shifter is gone before handing it to me. “Sit on this while Rufus and I let the others know we’re extending the lunch break. You need to sit on this for a few minutes before you get up and flip all over the place again.”

I nod, positioning the ice gingerly. It’s cold as hell, but the soft exterior of the gel pack she chose helps. “The floor is killing me. We need to get someone to make mats. Speaking of which, I still think we need to ask Chess if the set design students can help for their exams. Our number is more complex than we planned, and we’re going to need so much time to get the choreography right.”

“Even if the three of us are the only ones singing,” Cori grouses. “I can’t believe Professora Balena refused to offer extra credit to the vocal majors because ‘only opera is true music’. Musicals are life.”

The honey badger rolls his eyes, but he finally nods. “I hate giving up creative control, but you might be right, Dollypop. Spanks for the input.”

My face flames and I kick a foot out at him, catching him in the knee. “Stahhhhp.” He and Cori chortle like thirteen-year-old boys, and I huff in irritation.

“Seriously, Dolly. We really are here for you. I know you’re taking that sex ed class with Zhenga, but from what I hear, it’s taught from a data perspective. Ru-Ru and I can share personal experience,” Cori says softly.

“Tips and tricks about vaginas and dicks; that’s our superpower!”

Rubbing my hand over my face, I sigh in resignation. “I’m never living this down, am I? You two are gonna torture me about my sex life until the day I die. ”

“You’re stuck with us forever,” they say in unison.

Looking at their cheesy grins, I can’t help thinking about how lucky it was that I poked my head into the theater last spring. I wouldn’t have survived this year without them, and even when I’m struggling with my past trauma, they’re patient and kind. Rufus and Cori are my ‘ride or dies’, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything.

“You realize I’m a magnet for trouble, and people are always trying to kill me, right?” I say with a fond smile.

Rufus snorts as he pulls his phone out. “Hell, Dollybear, I have entire branches of my family tree trying to kill me. I call that a Tuesday. Your haters are cubs’ play in comparison.”

“I don’t have enemies like Michael Corleone over there, but my orientation pisses a lot of douchebag jocks off. Last year Ru-Ru spent more time beating their asses than their meat.”

My eyes widen, and I look at Cori in shock. “I didn’t know that. You’re always so… confident in who you are.”

“Apex has always been shitty, Dolly. You’re the target this year, but that’s nothing new. The assholes pick new victims every year—though, I’ll admit, your ex-BFFs took the bullshit to a whole new level.” The polar bear shrugs and winks at me. “I learned to give them the finger and move on.”

“Oh, you gave them the finger, all right...”

Cori and I kick him and he yelps. We look at one another and burst into giggles as he pouts and rubs his thighs ruefully.

“Watch the jewels, ladies. I’ll have you know my balls are the hit of the Apex soccer team.”

I arch a brow at him, feeling playful. “Yeah? I thought that was the sport where you can’t use your hands.”

“Exactly.” He waggles his brows and we all dissolve into laughter again. An alarm buzzes on his watch, and the badger groans. “ Well, ladies, I hate to break up our gossip sesh, but it’s time to sneak in a bite before we get back to work.”

Cori holds out her hand, and I use it to pull myself to my feet. I’m still sore as hell, but at least the bruise isn’t throbbing anymore. Giving her a grateful look, I pick up the ice pack and walk over to my bag to shove it inside.

I have the feeling I’ll be needing this again—if I’m lucky.