The Art of Synchronization

33

And then we came to Miami.

By the time I was done getting ready, Alisha was done as well, so the three of us went down the elevator and towards the lobby. We were greeted by the other dancers who were ready at an earlier time seating themselves on the lobby chairs. The hotel clerk, who looked way too young to have a degree in Hospitality, seemed to be enjoying the view of the college students in front of him. His eyes flickered back and forth from the front of the lobby to the back, taking in everyone's presence. He had a smile on his face, and I'm sure it was part of his job description to be smiling all the time, but I could see past his little innocent facade.

"How much you want to bet he probably has slept with way too many hotel customers?" I questioned Nia and Alisha, nodding my head in the direction of the hotel clerk. "He looks like the type to call your hotel room on accident." Alisha spoke, emphasizing the word accident to show sarcasm. I shrugged. It could be true, or he could be a really young teenager who was just lucky enough to have this job. Either way, he was getting some regardless.

The weather outside was delightful, much like it said it would be on my weather app.

As we arrived, it was clear that this was a big deal. The meet and greet wasn't until a little bit later, but already we could see a growing crowd of people. Some of them were wearing Bison gear, which I thought was strange considering we were in Miami. Others had gone a different route and decided to dress up. Overall, the crowd was somewhat of a mix with black people dominating the group. I mean, what else did we expect? We did go to an HBCU, and we did only play against predominantly black colleges so it wasn't like we expected a major surplus of white people, Asians, and the likewise.

"You guys, try to behave yourself. Everything that you do in front of this crowd, is a reflection of the Bisonette brand. Just because Coach Liz isn't here, doesn't mean to act up. I have the authority to cut anyone, and I will do it if I see you guys acting a fool. Do I make myself clear?" Martina was perched on one of the seats in the front, and as she spoke her eyes darted between each and every dancer. I couldn't help but think that she was talking about Carmen and I's situation in particular, and I wish I could assure her that none of that silly business would be happening anytime soon.

I had the perfect plan to fuck up her mood as soon as we got back to DC, and all I needed was for her to get slick with me just once this trip. I needed all the confirmation I could get.

The van door opened, and we quickly piled out of the musty van and into the beautiful weather.

As the first person stepped out of the van, the crowd that had been waiting erupted in a fit of cheers, and as if I was walking the red carpet and tons of paparazzi were pointing their cameras at me, a wide smile braced my face. Nia and Alisha grabbed a hold to my left and right hand respectively as we followed Martina towards the entrance of the park. Just as many little kids were there as there was adults (teens and the likewise). At the sight of Martina, a good bit of them crowded around her legs. Martina looked like one of those cool moms as she semi-awkwardly patted the top of their heads before stooping down a bit to communicate with them.

"You look even prettier in person!" One girl, who looked to be mixed with something with her bright orange-reddish hair, spoke as she walked up to me. She had her iPhone in her hand, and her group of friends behind her seemed to be Snapchatting the whole ordeal. "Can ya'll at least get my good side?" I joked before letting go of Nia and Alisha's hand. They were being bombarded with questions from some other girls, so it was only right for me to put my attention on the four in front of me.

"How old are you guys?" I questioned. They looked young--younger than me at least, but not like, super young. They reminded me of my adolescent days of either the end of middle school, or beginning of high school.