7. The flashbacks, the present and the happily ever after
The group had gathered at Kori and Lydia’s apartment for their usual Friday night hangout. It had become a ritual—pizza boxes scattered across the kitchen counter, wine and mocktails filling mismatched glasses, and playlists that blended pop classics with old dance recital favorites. The place was lived-in and loved, fairy lights strung along the ceiling beams, throw blankets and forgotten socks scattered across the couch.
Crystal had brought a charcuterie board that no one asked for but everyone appreciated. Lexi was curled up in the papasan chair, her laptop open but long since forgotten. Samantha sat cross-legged on the floor, her drink balanced on a stack of old textbooks, while Kori and Lydia were in their usual spot on the love seat, legs tangled together. Suzie and Jewels had been side-by-side on the other couch all evening—close, maybe a little too close—but no one had said anything. Not yet.
The conversation had spiraled, as it often did, into memory lane territory. Someone brought up the worst first date they'd ever had, and then someone else asked who in the room was most likely to die in a horror movie, and then—Lexi, half-tipsy, had turned to Jewels with that glint in her eye.
“Okay, serious question,” she said. “Don’t think. Just answer. Who means the most to you in this room?”
The room went still with anticipation, but Jewels didn’t even hesitate. “Suzie.”
Everyone paused. Suzie blinked. Jewels blinked. And the rest of the group looked between them.
Suzie gave a tight smile, trying to play it cool, but her heart was doing cartwheels. That moment hit different. It stayed.
Conversation moved on, kind of. They danced around it. They tried to pretend it wasn’t a Moment. But it was. And the tension in the air turned warm and bright and buzzing.
Later in the evening, the group had sprawled out into smaller conversations. Someone put on music. People were up and down from the couch, grabbing refills, bumping into each other in the kitchen.
It was in that soft chaos—somewhere between laughter and casual collisions—that it happened.
Suzie turned to say something. Jewels turned at the same time. And their faces were suddenly too close. There wasn’t even time to pull back.
The kiss wasn’t planned. It wasn’t even dramatic. It was just there—a brush of lips, the surprise of it, the rightness of it.
They froze.
Wide eyes. Breathless silence. Not a word.
Then, as if trying to cover for the accidental moment, Suzie laughed nervously and looked away. Jewels reached up like she was going to say something, but then lowered her hand.
Too late. Lexi saw it.
“Uhhhhhhhhh,” she said, drawing it out like she was scrolling through a fanfiction comment section.
“What just happened?” Crystal asked, looking between them.
Samantha’s eyebrows were already in her hairline. “Did you two just—did you kiss?”
Kori gasped. Lydia dropped a slice of pizza.
Suzie and Jewels shared one final look. And then Jewels gave a tiny shrug, almost sheepish. “Okay… so… yeah.”
“We’re together,” Suzie added, almost at the same time.
The room exploded.
Everyone had questions. No one was mad. If anything, it was like the moment they’d all been waiting for had finally arrived. Voices overlapped. Lydia shouted something about finally. Samantha made a game-show buzzer noise. Crystal already had her phone out to take a photo of them with “Finally Official” as a caption.
Jewels held up a hand, laughing. “Okay, okay! You want the real story?”
“YES,” everyone chorused.
Suzie groaned, but she was smiling. “You guys remember that frat party? Sophomore year?”
“Oh my god,” Lexi said, “the banana costume one?”
“Yes,” Jewels said, laughing. “We were walking back to the dorms, late, super drunk—”
“We were singing our song,” Suzie added.
“‘Ocean Avenue,’” they both said in unison.
Jewels looked at Suzie for permission. Suzie gave a small nod.
Jewels inhaled, slow. “We kissed. That night. Right in front of the dorm. She thought I didn’t remember because I never said anything.”
“But you did remember,” Lydia said, eyes wide.
Jewels nodded. “Every second. I just… I was scared. I didn’t want to ruin what we had. So I pretended I didn’t remember. And we just moved on.”
Crystal’s mouth fell open. “Oh my god. That’s, like, criminally romantic.”
“We were different people back then,” Suzie said quietly, fingers brushing Jewels’ again. “But we’re not anymore.”
Kori threw a pillow at them. “I knew it! I knew it years ago!”
Samantha looked dramatically to the ceiling. “This is better than any movie. I want the rights.”
Everyone laughed again, the tension dissolving entirely.
Later that night, the group splintered into quieter pockets. Lexi was helping Crystal pick a playlist for the next showcase. Samantha was sitting cross-legged with Kori and Lydia, already plotting a themed dance night. And Suzie and Jewels stood in the hallway just off the living room, quiet again.
“This is the first time I’ve said it out loud,” Suzie murmured.
Jewels bumped her shoulder. “Feels real now, huh?”
Suzie smiled. “Yeah.”
“And the academy?” Jewels asked, softer. “Are we still us?”
“We’re still us,” Suzie confirmed. “Just a better version.”
Jewels took her hand. “Then we’re good.”
—
Epilogue
Summer arrived like a slow-burn crescendo at the academy. Windows cracked open to let in the breeze, sunlight warming the hardwood floors of Studio B. Glitter from recital prep clung to every surface, and the sounds of music—both practiced and spontaneous—echoed through the halls.
Jewels stood at the front desk with Suzie, both sipping iced coffees and watching their students practice through the glass.
Behind them, a new flyer was taped to the corkboard: Summer Intensive - Led by Jewels & Suzie: Co-Founders. Co-Directors. Partners.
It was subtle. But it was there.
Crystal walked by and gave them both a knowing wink. Lexi was sprawled on a beanbag in the corner, editing video clips from last week’s showcase. Kori and Lydia were arguing lovingly over which choreo to use for the pride event they were planning. Samantha was making a spreadsheet and muttering something about matching jackets for the staff.
Suzie leaned against Jewels. “Think they’ll ever calm down?”
Jewels laughed. “Not a chance.”
The academy buzzed around them, full of movement, full of light.
And they stayed. Together.
“Who knew this would be our life?” Suzie murmured.
Jewels didn’t take her eyes off the dancers. “I did.”
Suzie turned to her. “You did?”
Jewels finally met her gaze. “Since you danced barefoot in the rain sophomore year and then made me pancakes the next morning like nothing happened? Yeah. I knew.”
Suzie chuckled, heart full. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
From behind them, Sam’s voice rang out across the hallway. “If you two don’t stop being cute, I’m going to cry into my coffee again.”
Crystal added, “Leave them alone. I’m trying to take a candid photo for the website!”
The moment broke into laughter again. It always did. But it didn’t disappear. It just folded itself into everything else that made up their life: the dance academy, their community, their shared dreams, their shared past.
Theirs.
Always had been.
Always would be. Still building something—something that danced, something that sang.
Something entirely theirs.