Kenzi flinched.

”Dancing! It’s time. And I know this one.” Lauren rose slowly from the table, swaying in time to the music and began to sing along with it. She sang out clearly in a language Kenzi did not recognize.

”Excuse me?”

”It’s Swahili. C’mon get up,” Lauren tugged at Kenzi to dance with her.

Kenzi stood and allowed Lauren to circle around her, crooning even louder when the singer switched to Spanish. ”Es una historia de mañana…”

”Now, you’re just showing off,” Kenzi said amused, and little by little copied Lauren’s steps. Lauren reached for Kenzi’s hips to move in time with hers, back and forth and back and forth. ”You got moves girl.”

”Yale cha-cha champion. Freshman year.”

Lauren sang while leading Kenzi closer and closer to the open side of the bungalow. ”Es una historia de amor…”

”No, uh-uh.” Kenzi realized what was happening. ”No chica. What did I tell you about rain and my hair? Rule number one?”

”Es una historia…de mi corazon.” Lauren beamed and not giving Kenzi much of a chance, she grabbed the stick of a girl, heaving her over her shoulder clumsily and flung them both outside, soaking them immediately in the downpour as they fell onto the sand.

Lauren popped up, shaking like a wet dog before resuming her cha-cha. Maybe it was the white orb just beginning to split the darkening clouds. Or the milky moonshine they’d been chugging. Whatever the cause, for the first time in a long time she felt the squall was going to pass, that the storms they had weathered together would not beat them.

Lauren extended her hand, which Kenzi hesitated to take. Maybe she was injured or angry at Lauren for dragging her outside. ”I am singing…” Kenzi began softly, singing along with the chorus coming out of the jukebox, ”…of tomorrow.”

Lauren yanked Kenzi to her feet.

”I am singing!” they bellowed to the white sky, and together, they spun and roared and grabbed on to each other, full and greedy for life. ”We are singing of love from the heart.”

It was Bo’s turn at the wheel.

They had driven for a day, a night, and another day, stopping only for gas (and the petrol stations were few) for something to eat, or to inquire if this was the town with the yellow-haired doctor. The engine rumbled and her friends snored as Bo blinked to sharpen her focus. She fought the urge to pull over, unsure where she was headed, and her eyes burned with fatigue. It also didn’t help that the jeep didn’t have air conditioning, the warm air only exacerbating her growing drowsiness.