EASY OUT

1: LAUREN

I wasn't nervous when Carter told me I was going solo, but looking out into the crowd knowing someone might recognize me. Knowing Sydney is here. Knowing Nash is here with his friends. I'm nervous.

The Warehouse is starting to reach the point of capacity where you sweat standing still, and personal space is a precious commodity you will have to throw elbows for.

I move around the outer edge of the room, fighting my way between groups of people, all while keeping an eye out for Sydney and the guys.

"Can I get a glass of water, please?" I ask the bartender after I push my way through the crowd of bodies.

Maybe hydrating will help me release some of this nervous tension. One can hope.

"You ready?" A deep voice asks from behind my back. I nod. "You know what needs to be done, Lo?"

"I know, Carter."

"Good." He's quiet for a minute, but I can feel him stewing. "Just because you are back on campus doesn't mean you're out of everything."

"I know, Carter. I'm not leaving them. You should already know that. I haven't let them down yet and won't do it now. I need this as much as they do." I feel like I've already proven myself to Carter over the years. It kind of makes me angry that he still questions me and my loyalty.

"I'm here. Okay?"

"Okay." Carter gives my hand a quick squeeze.

"Sorry, I just know tonight is different for you since Newhouse is here. If you're good. I'm good." He doesn't wait for my response. He simply melts back into the crowd.

Blowing out a breath, I move my feet to find another corner to wait for the start of the competition. Carter's words, although infuriating, are also a reminder of why I'm here to begin with. People are counting on me.

Carter is right, though. Tonight is different. There is something in the air. It isn't just the addition of all the college crews. I have a new energy, a hunger I haven't felt before.

There is no way I'm letting anyone take a single step on that dance floor, thinking they have a shot at taking money from my crew. My family.

A lot of people are here for the accolades. They want the title. The college crews want to prove they are better than their rivals. Not me. I'm here for the coin. The dough. The Franklins. The paper.

I'm here to put food on the table and help keep the kids in my neighborhood from doing something they shouldn't just to have a full belly.

I moved across the country to Alabama before the ink could dry on my high school diploma. Once my scholarship came through for Newhouse, I felt hope. I almost didn't recognize the feeling. It was so foreign to me.

I rented a two-bedroom trailer at Royal Oaks. It was nicer than my last place, and it was all mine for the next three months until I moved into my dorm at Newhouse.

During those three months, I kept a watchful eye on everyone who lived in the trailer park. I saw the little kids left alone while their parents went to work. I saw the older ones sneak out at night to do lord knows what.

I may not know exactly what they were doing, but I know how it ends, and it isn't good.

Then I watched Carter. I saw how he moved around the trailer park and interacted with everyone. He was clearly the leader and a big influence. Carter was trying to help the only way he knew how. Pretty sure it wasn't all legal.

I wanted to help too. I decided to keep my trailer year-round so I had a place to stay during breaks and to keep tabs on everyone. A few days after Christmas of my freshman year, I witnessed my first dance battle.