Kurt POV
"They'll get together and say, 'Brother Frexspar, did you allow your wife to deliver your first child when you had a community problem to solve' How in-con…sid-er-ate of you." Finn looked to me for approval of his pronunciation.
"Good." I moved the piece of paper I was holding a bit so he could see the next line. Only being able to focus on one line of text at a time, as opposed to seeing the entire page was a trick he had learned at the specialist, and it seemed to be helping.
We were reading Wicked, curled up together on my bed. I personally, thought it was a bit ambitious for Finn, considering that he had tested on a fourth grade reading level, but Finn was embarrassed to be reading books written for that level, so I had gone with what I had on hand. We had worked our way through the original Wizard of Oz, book, but it was a little babyish for his tastes. He was never going to get better if he didn't practice, and he would be more willing to practice if he actually liked what he was reading. Hopefully there was enough violence, mystery, and sex in this to keep him entertained. "Keep going."
He ran a finger along the text, looking for where he had stopped. "How inconsiderate of you; it shows a lack of authority. You're fired from the position.'" She was ribbing him now, for there was no one to fire him. The nearest bishop was too distant to pay attention to the part-tic-u-lars of a unionist cleric in the hin-ter-land."
I leaned in, enjoying the words that I had read myself so many times. Finn's ready is still slow and a little on the choppy side, but he's made huge improvements from even his evaluation a few weeks ago. I think there are a few reasons behind that. First of all, his medication has finally kicked in. He works harder now and is less distracted by shiny things. Then there are the small changes we've made to accommodate him. Only letting him see things one line at a time was one, as well as letting him do his writing on colored paper. I have no idea why that works for people with dyslexia, but it seems to help.
Another thing that was helping was that we were now insisting that he try. Until his doctor pointed it out, I hadn't realized how much we were letting Finn coast on his reading and writing. Everything was verbal with him, which might be why he talks so much, but it hadn't done much to help the underlying issues. Even I was guilty of reading his homework out loud for him and letting him tell me the answers, rather then making him do it himself. In my defense, it was the only way he was going to have any chance of keeping his head above water academically.
But I think the biggest change has been Finn himself. For the first time since kindergarten, he was actually having some success academically. The boost to his self esteem was enormous, and it made him more willing to try in a way he wasn't before. Not that he didn't still get stubborn or throw the occasional tantrum, but at least we were moving in the right direction.
To keep him from getting frustrated, I had agreed to switch off chapters with him to make things move faster. I was still planning on seeing Wicked in the theater one day, and I wanted Finn to be at my side when it happened.
We had plenty of extra time to work on his academics, because Glee club is still hanging in the balance. I had gone all MacGyver and done some research to figure out exactly what Mr. Ryan was doing here, other then trying to make everyone miserable. My sleuthing had mostly involved spying and listening at Coach Sylvester's door, but I did end up learning quite a bit.
From what I understood, Mr. Ryan was there to audit all of the clubs of McKinley High, and determine where the budget could be cut. Ever since the little battle between him and Mr. Shue, though, we were directly in his line of fire.
Originally, I had laughed at Finn's suggestion that Mr. Shue and Mr. Ryan had once been lovers, but I was now revising that thought. Finn was right: this was a lovers quarrel that had festered and grown over the years. Maybe a good blow job wouldn't be that far off the mark.
One thing I had to admire, though, was that he went after the sports teams as viciously as he went after the performing arts clubs. Coach Sylvester was screaming about having her budget cut in half, and Coach Tanaka was pissed off that he was no longer going to have the fancy bus for away games.
If the rumors I had heard were true, he had gone after Coach Sylvester in more ways then one, but that was too horrifying to think about.
"Done." Finn snuggled in closer and ran one hand up and down my arm. "How did I do?"
"You did very well." I knew what he was waiting for, so I leaned up and pressed my lips to his.
"A lot of these words are really hard. Are you sure that they're all real words? Because I've never heard some of them before."
There were a lot of words that Finn had never heard before, but even I had had trouble with some of what was in the book. "Some of the words were made up for the book, but most of them are just very old-fashioned ones that we don't use much any more."
"What do you think our parents are doing tonight?" Over the past few weeks, Finn had suddenly become quite suspicious of our parents and everything they might be getting up to.
He hasn't voiced the thought yet, but I think he's worried that Dad will ask Carole and Finn to move in with us or, worse, that he would propose. Despite my own misgivings on the thought, and I had plenty of them, believe me, I could see some advantages as well. If the two of them moved in together, I would have access to Finn 24/7, instead of just a few times a day. Where was the downside? With there only being two bedrooms in the house, we would have to share a room as well.
I didn't want to bring it up, though, until I was sure that that was the problem. Who knew, Finn could be upset about something else entirely. "Probably nothing interesting."
"Yeah." He nodded slowly as he thought. "They're going to that old people movie instead of something good."
In Finn's mind, every movie that doesn't feature tons of explosions or sensationalized breasts is an old people movie. "What movie would you like to watch?"
"I brought a horror movie." He grinned and presented me with a well-worn copy of IT.
"No way." I hated horror movies. Some of the gory ones I could handle by telling myself that it was nothing but food coloring and corn syrup. Plus, most of them were so stupid that they didn't look anywhere near realistic enough to be that upsetting.
But this sort of movie was different. Creepy got to me, and I knew that this movie would have it in spades. "Can't we watch something else?"
He sighed. "But Puck wants it back tomorrow. Pleeease?"
I should have just told him that horror movies scared me, but I never fail to fall victim to the puppy dog eyes. "Ok."
He kissed me. "You can pick next time, I promise."
Finn turned the lights down and popped the DVD in. "This one is going to be awesome."
Within two minutes of the movie starting, I knew that this was a mistake. Little kids never fared well in these movies, especially when they were introduced before the opening credits were over. I pressed closer to Finn, who was staring at the screen with an almost hypnotized expression.
Sure enough, the kid had an arm ripped off before we were five minutes in. More probably happened, but I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed that it would be over quickly. Finn wrapped an arm around me and I snuggled in closer, grateful to be able to hide my face against his side whenever I sensed that things might get scary.
I lasted right up until Pennywise the Clown made his first appearance. At that point, I couldn't help but scream and climb up into Finn's lap.
My shriek startled him worse then anything that had happened on screen, and his entire body jerked in surprise. "Shh, Shhh, it's ok. Look, I'll turn it off." He grabbed the remote and flipped the television off.
It made me feel like a coward, but I did relax as soon as the creepy music disappeared. Finn hugged me tighter. "Why didn't you just tell me you're scared of horror movies?"
How about because no one likes looking like an idiot in front of a guy they want to impress? If I said that, though, he would look at me like I was an idiot. In his mind, I had already done all of the impressing I would ever need to, so why keep harping on that point?
Finn slid me off his lap and wandered over to the movie shelf. "We can watch this instead. Remember, it's the first movie we ever watched together. It's like an anniversary present."
Considering the amount of drugs he had been on that night, I was surprised he remembered that I had been there at all, much less that we had watched Hairspray. But the thought behind the gesture made me smile. "How is this an anniversary? We didn't even know each other this time last year."
"It's an anniversary of this day last year, and all the times it was this day since forever. Duh." Finn never gets bogged down by little things like logic or relevance to the situation at hand.
Though sometimes it does make me wonder if Finn is as stupid as he can come off, or actually very bright. In his own way, he was right, and what was wrong with having a little more joy in the simple things? "You have a point."
The rest of the evening was quiet, a small port in the storm that was exploding in our school lives. I think that Finn sensed it as well, because he didn't make any effort to turn this into sex. He was just content to hold me and watch the movie with a minimum of comments.
It was nice to have that brief pause, because the next morning things were weirder then ever. All of the sudden, Mr. Ryan was our total best friend. He had a bunch of boxes in the room and he started opening them and showing off the contents almost before we sat down. "Guys, I've got good news. I siphoned off funds from the Cheerios and I took a little shopping spree through the Jazz Hands catalogue. You know why? Because the arts matter"
Finn leaned behind me to whisper to Puck, who was on my other side. "He and Mr. Shue did it last night."
"Totally." Then they fist bumped. I'm not sure if they had had anything to do with it, or it was just a gesture of solidarity with any man who was getting laid.
"Custom made New Directions jean jackets-"He kept talking, but I had already launched myself towards the offered denim. 'Custom made' had to be one of the most wonderful phrases in the English language.
"-every piece of sheet music from every Broadway show from the last 50 years Everything a show choir needs to become champions."
Mr. Shuester was as stunned as we were. "Wow, that's just amazing. Let's all give a hand for Mr. Ryan." We all dutifully applauded.
Then the door flew open and Coach Sylvester stormed in. Santana, Brittany, and I all reflexively straightened up, and the jacket dropped from my hands back into the box. This wasn't going to be good. I hurriedly snatched it back up. This one was mine, and I was more then willing to fight for it. "Well, congratulations Will. I'm over the moon for you." Her tone told us that she was anything but.
"Thanks, Sue. I'm glad you have a good attitude about your budget being cut." Mr. Shue couldn't resist rubbing it in. Honestly, sometimes those two were less mature then we were.
"No, no, I'm not talking about that. I came over here to congratulate you on your new role. Local director Herb Duncan does the dry cleaning for the Cheerios, and he let slip that you just landed the lead in Les Miz!" She held up a playbill to prove her point. "Congratulations. Oh, I'm ecstatic!"
How did I not know that there was a production of Les Miz happening? Not that there was a single role that I was qualified for, but I would even accept a nonspeaking part. Come on, it was Les Miz!
That's not true. You would make a truly stunning young Cosette. Galinda picked up a lilting song. There is a castle on a cloud. I like to go there in my dreams….
Small, delicate and somewhat feminine I might be. Looking and sounding like a 10 year old girl, I was not. I decided to just let that comment roll off my back in favor of focusing back on both of my Coaches.
She turned to Mr. Ryan. "And the good news just keeps coming, cause you got a part, too, Bry. The exciting role of townsperson. You got a line, too. Way back here in the second act-" She flipped obstencisously through the pages.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Shue flinch. Finn put his hands in his pockets and hunched forward, a sure sign that he knew a confrontation was coming and he needed to make himself small.
"You get to say…..'Hooray'." She slapped both Mr. Shue and Mr. Ryan on the back. "Congratulations both of you. I can't wait until opening night." With a flourish, she spun and let the room.
Silence fell. The two adults remaining stared each other down, neither knowing what to say. Then Mr. Ryan grabbed the jacket out of my hands, making me jump.
Mr. Shue tried to step in. "Brian…"
He wasn't having it. "Congratulations, Will, you're going to be great in the show."
"Can we talk about this?" He was trying to steer him out of the room, so this didn't happen in front of all of us.
"There's nothing to talk about. I'm cutting the program." He tossed my jacket back into the box and wheeled it from the room, leaving devastation in his wake.
Mr. Shue sighed heavily. "Ok, guys, this isn't that big of a deal." He couldn't even make himself sound like he completely believed it. "We've had Figgins threatening the same thing since we started, and we're still going strong. We have plenty of sheet music, of our own, and you've done great with making your costumes. We don't need the extras."
Maybe we didn't need them, but they certainly helped. Mr. Shue gestured. "Girls, why don't you guys come on down first today?"
Finn tugged on my sleeve. "I don't get it. So Mr. Shue got the big part in the play and Mr. Ryan only got a little part?"
"Yes. I'm guessing they both tried out for Jean Valjean. He's the male lead."
His brow furrowed. "But isn't it good just to get a part? I mean, lots of people didn't even get that. Why can't Mr. Ryan just be happy with what he got instead of being a huge douche about it?"
It was hard for him to understand, because Finn had always been the best, even without trying. He had the look, and the easy personality, and a not small amount of talent for several things. He's never come in last place or had to take the consolation prize. "I don't think that him not getting the part is the big deal. I think that the big deal is that Mr. Shue did get the part."
"Oh. It's still kind of a douche move. I mean, we're still kids and we don't fight like that. Well, Rachel does." His head cocked as he thought. "Do you think she's going to be like Mr. Ryan when she gets older? Except chick batty instead of douchy?"
Not a chance. Not because she didn't have the same obsessive focus and determination to win at all costs, but because I couldn't imagine her ever being a has-been. She was going to go all the way to the top, headlining on Broadway.
Yeah? But you have Finn. I'm pretty sure that you're still coming out on top in that one.
Yeah, I am. "I think that Rachel is a creature all her own and we can't judge her by the standards of mere mortals."
"I like it when you talk all smart." Then he chuckled. "Even if I don't always get what you're saying."
"How about I just say that I love you?" That usually works for him.
"That works. It's kind of sad that Mr. Shue and Mr. Ryan hate each other now." He was reflective, something I very seldom saw in him. "I can't imagine hating Rachel or Quinn."
No, I couldn't either. But 20 years in the future, which is about how long I'm guessing it's been for Mr. Shue and Mr. Ryan, he probably wouldn't remember Quinn's last name. He would undoubtedly remember Rachel's, but he would have forgotten her atrocious fashion sense.
And where would I be? At his side, giggling at old pictures? Or would he point me out to his wife, talking about his bi-curious phase? Or, worst of all, Dad would actually marry Carole, and we would be stuck seeing each other at the holidays, not brother, and not lovers, but stuck somewhere in between.
Those are the chances of life. When Finn dated Rachel, he ran the risk of them imploding and destroying the Glee club. Or her moving to New York after graduation and leaving him behind. Or him getting her pregnant and them getting married at 18. There's not a relationship in this world that doesn't leave its mark, whether it ends well or poorly.
The thought actually made me shiver; I leaned against Finn and laid my head on his shoulder. He kissed my cheek, his lips barely brushing the skin. "What's wrong? You were shaking."
I squeezed him back. "Nothing. Just a cold chill."
The school was still 75 degrees, even though it was cold outside, so he had to have known that it was a lie. Sure enough, he looked a little confused, but chose not to ask.
"Alright, great job. Now the boys." Mr. Shue signaled us down, and we came, though not without a certain amount of grumbling. We all grabbed the music that was stacked on the piano.
Puck gave an excited whistle. "Aerosmith! Awesome!"
The rest of us were surprised as well. Artie pushed his glasses up. "What's the occasion, Mr. Shue?"
A dopey smile spread across his face. A smile that way too closely resembled Finn's when he thought I might be convinced to give him a hand job. "I was singing this song the other day, and I thought that if I enjoyed it that much, you guys would, too."
At my side, Finn made a rather crude gesture at his crotch. Puck nodded and winked. Then he raised his hand. "Mr. Shuester?"
"What is it Puck?" Mr. Shue may not always be fair, and he does tend to forget those of us who aren't front and center, but he always acknowledges us when we speak up.
"I'm just throwing this out there, but Finnster and I would be glad to light Mr. Ryan's car on fire for you. Just say the word." Finn nodded in agreement.
Mr. Shue smiled at them. "Thanks, guys, but I'm pretty sure it's not going to come to that. I really can't condone arson, especially not on school property."
What he was really doing was thanking Puck for his support, even if it was rather crudely offered.
"We can find out where he lives." Puck winked at him, which was apparently the bad ass way of letting him know that he got it, and there was no reason to get messy feelings involved.
Life would be so much easier if boys would just talk about their feelings, rather then bringing up arson and stalking.
I should probably also mention this wasn't one of the pretty Aerosmith songs, like 'I don't Want to Miss a Thing'. This was 'Dream On', which oozed with sex. "Puck, why don't you take the lead on this one?"
If there was one thing Puck understood, it was sex, and this song was right up his alley. He was already familiar with the song, so it wasn't long before he had the basics down. Mike had drawn back, and was now talking to Brittany, both of them alive with ideas about choreography and costumes.
Finn ran his fingers up and down on my back, looking lost in thought. He thinks better when he's in motion, so I knew that there was something important going through his brain.
His entire body jolted when he finally hit his conclusion, but he didn't make a sound. I really think that his medication is finally kicking in, because he's stopped blurting out his every thought the minute it comes into his brain. Now he's able to hang on to his thoughts rather then having them scatter like birds, he doesn't feel as compelled to say them as quickly as possible for fear of losing them. He waited patiently for Puck to finish, and even politely applauded before speaking up. "Hey Mr. Shue? Mr. Shue?" He was practically vibrating with excitement.
"What's up, Finn?" Mr. Shuester looked amused at my boyfriend's bouncy enthusiasm.
"So, I was just thinking-"
Puck interrupted. "There's a first."
Finn reached around my back and slugged Puck's shoulder without ever breaking his rhythm of speech. "Does Glee have to come from the school? I mean, even if Mr. Ryan gets the club cancelled, we're all still here, right? Can't we find somewhere else to practice and still be a group? Do the guys in charge care of we're from a school, or just a group as long as we pay the admission?"
That was….actually, that was a pretty bright idea. Much better then anything the rest of us had come up with.
"That's a really good idea, Finn. Hopefully it won't come to that, but I'll do some research and we'll keep that in mind. Way to think outside the box." Mr. Shue smiled at him and nodded.
All Finn ever really wants is to be acknowledged and not told that he's a moron. Whether Mr. Shue actually did anything from here on out was immaterial. Finn broke into a smile so bright that I had to grin as well. There's nothing I love more then seeing him happy, and it takes so very little to make him that way.
Despite Finn's hopeful suggestion and Mr. Shue's not making a big deal out of everything, we were still tense as a group. No one, not even Rachel, had a song to volunteer, and we were prickly with each other. Santana was ruder the usual, and Quinn got weepy for no real reason. That might just be the pregnancy, though, since she does that a lot lately. We all recognized false bravado when we saw it.
I had to give our teacher credit for pushing through, instead of letting us go early again. Rachel kept getting louder and shriller as she kept a running countdown of how long we had until Regionals. For some reason, she seemed to think that she was helping us, instead of making us all want to kill her. Finally Finn took her aside and spoke to her quietly, leading to her bouncing out of the room. No screaming or tantrums, though, which was an improvement.
He came back over and nuzzled against my neck under the pretense of reading my piece of sheet music. I gave him a quick kiss. "What did you say to Nagena?"
"Huh? Oh, Rach? I told her that we needed to be super clear on the rules and regulations and shit before we got too committed to a set list, so I sent her to the computer lab to go look them up. It should buy us a little time."
That's one of the other reasons I love Finn. He had managed to diffuse the situation without bloodshed, and without making anyone feel bad. When he took the time to think things over, he was actually pretty good at this. True, she would probably be even crazier when she came back, but at least he was trying. "Good thinking."
"She'll be back, and probably worse, but hopefully she'll have something else to focus on." He studied me quietly. "This is it for the Glee club, isn't it? Bryan Ryan is going to take us down."
He desperately wanted me to reassure him that it wasn't true, but what could I say? Chances were very good that he was right. Not only were we an unpopular club, but all we had to stand up for us was Mr. Shuester, and he was the worst possible person to do so.
Finn had been right the first time around: we were about to lose our club because of what amounted to a giant lovers spat. I wanted to reassure him by lying, but I knew that he would see right through it. "Maybe."
"I'm not going to think about it for right now. Let's just have a good practice." He was doing his best to appear in control, but, like Mr. Shue, he's a bit transparent when he's upset.
But Finn's also pretty good at wishing himself into genuine happiness. We were all watching him, and when he loosened up and started having a good time, the rest of us followed suit. There was still tension, but at least Santana was no longer making stabbing motions with her nail file behind Rachel's back. And he to give the devil her due, Rachel had a copy of the rules and regulations, along with penciled in suggestions for songs. Not one of the songs was even remotely interesting. Puck peeked over her shoulder and sighed. "Rachel, those songs suck."
Because Puck is Jewish, he gets some slack from Rachel that the rest of us would never be allowed. Instead of blowing up at him, she crossed her arms and gave him a dirty look. "Well, what would you suggest instead?"
He had nothing, but didn't want to lose face. "Why should I get to make all of the decisions? We're not a monarchy and you're not Queen Bee. Why don't we vote on it together, like we should?"
It was a nice save. Mr. Shue smiled. "You guys are full of great ideas today. Everyone think of their favorite song from this year, and we'll go from there."
Big mistake. Everyone started yelling at once, and the room descended into chaos. Finn was bouncing around and yelling random things at the top of his lungs. "Journey! Journey! No, the Bon Jovi one!"
He was the closest, but not the loudest. Rachel was still begging for Broadway, but, again, it was all songs that no one had ever heard of except for her. Mercedes was campaigning for some Aretha and Puck was complaining that he wanted to do something sexy like 'Push It'.
It didn't take long before no one could be understood at all and Mr. Shue was shouting for all of us to settle down and get back in our seats. "We're going to have to do this one at a time."
He drug the white board over and wrote a big number one on it. "Mercedes first. What do you want to do?"
"Aretha. Someone sassy." She crossed her arms over her chest and shot him a challenging look.
"Alright, Mercedes says Aretha." He wrote it on the board. "Matt?"
He shrugged. "Whatever. You pick it, I'll sing it."
That might have been the most I had ever heard him string together. "Are you sure, Matt? You don't have any song that you like better then the others?"
"No."
"Ok. Santana?"
"I agree with Mercedes. This club wouldn't suck so much if you guys would loosen up and get nasty. I'm sure that Lurch and the Catamite over there could give you guys some tips."
Finn glared at her. "You wish we would give you tips."
She snorted. "Really? You think I want tips on how to finish in 10 seconds or less? Please. There's nothing you can tell me that I don't already know."
Santana is a master at getting under Finn's skin, and his body tensed in a way that told me he was about to jump up and say something rude back. I grabbed his thigh and dug in, keeping him still. My voice dropped into a hiss. "Don't do it."
At the same time, Mr. Shue lunged for control as well. "Santana, enough. This is the time when we need to pull together, not tear each other apart."
She settled as Finn leaned over to whisper in my ear. "Yeah, she probably knows all about taking it up the ass."
I hated it when he said things like that. Not only because it was crude, but because it was so deeply engrained in him to associate there being something wrong with the act. Taking it up the ass was funny at best, an insult at worse. I knew that he didn't really think that it was true, that he wasn't even considering the words that were coming out of his mouth, but it still painful to hear.
"Santana also votes for something sexy. Ok, Quinn."
She smiled at him, but it was a sad one. It's like the baby's been draining all of her spark and vivaciousness out of her, leaving a depressed shell in its wake. I know that Drizzle's ultimate fate is still up in the air, but none of the dirty details. Even though the truth has been out for months now, I still see Finn looking at her belly with the kicked puppy look, like the baby had been his after all. "Nothing too crazy. I don't want my water to break on stage."
Wait, could that actually happen? Admittedly, I didn't know much about female genitalia and birth, and I would like to remain as ignorant as possible, but I couldn't believe that women would just start randomly spewing fluids like that. Wasn't there some sort of feminine warning system for things like that? It just didn't seem safe for the continued survival of the human race
Judging by the suddenly worried expression on Mr. Shue's face, it must be possible. He hastily scrawled 'No wild dance moves' on the whiteboard.
We ran through the rest of the group. Mike didn't care what songs we chose, but he did want to be in charge of the choreography. Brittany had no idea what was going on, but put in a vote for something fun and happy. Artie wanted to be able to play his guitar for at least a few seconds. Finn lobbied for something classic, while Rachel fretted that we wouldn't have enough time to polish a bunch of new songs. Mr. Shue dutifully took notes. "Did I miss anyone?
"Journey." It was our quietest and gentlest member, the one who tended to get lost in the shuffle.
"What was that Tina?" Mr. Shue always tried to get her to speak up more.
"I j-just through that we should do Journey. We already know it, and we know some basic choreography. We would have to jazz it up a little, but I know Mike can do it." Her face was hopeful, but her voice wasn't. No one ever listened to Tina's suggestions. She's so shy and timid that she doesn't put forth her ideas with much force, leading her to by overshadowed by the more dynamic (read: louder) members of the group.
But this time, everyone agreed with her. Finn was ecstatic that we were going to do Journey again. Mercedes and I were thrilled that Tina's suggestion was being taken seriously, and even Rachel was pontificating about the wisdom of using a song that would be different and thus more impressive to the judges.
Then Mr. Shue made the mistake of asking which song we should use. Dozens of songs were tossed out, many of which I'm pretty sure weren't even Journey. I'm not as familiar with classic rock as some of my classmates, though, so I kept out of the fray.
In the end, it was our second most unlikely member who came up with the best suggestion of the night. Brittany, who had spent most of the practice playing with first her own, then Santana's hair, suddenly chirped up. "Let's do a mash up! That was the best thing we've done all year."
I had to agree with her. Choosing the songs, then finding a way to fit them all together had been a blast. Plus, it gave us a chance to use more then one song, and thus please a greater percentage of the group.
"That's a wonderful idea, Brittany." Mr. Shuester wasn't quite successful at keeping the shock out of his voice.
Having more choices calmed us considerably, and it only took an additional 15 minutes to iron out the songs. 'Don't Stop Believing' was a given, and Finn was crazy for 'Any Way You Want it'. Puck and Mercedes were both happy with 'Loving, Touching, Squeezing', and Mike was already plotting out the choreography. As unbelievable at it was, somehow everyone in the group was excited about the choice.
Now we just had to make sure that we still had a group for competition.