The music mix was filled with city sound effects that weren’t overpowering but were just so catchy when woven together the way they were. Horns blaring, people shouting, trains screeching—all to a steady beat you wanted to get up and dance to. In fact, a part of the crowd could be heard clapping along.

We took long, rhythmic strides past, between, behind, and in front of each other, like we were trying to tie the air into a big messy knot. Then we broke away, each of us bursting into different styles of dance, mimicking what happens every day on New York’s sidewalks. Riley leapt in the air, one arm high, as if hailing a cab. Megan swayed side to side to the music, as if trying to keep her balance on a fast-moving subway. Lily, Trina, and I made like we were holding an animated conversation on the street. Our backs arching, heads bobbing, arms flailing with every change in tempo. Riley was especially on fire. She must have been working extra hard for that first-place photo op with Trey Thompson. Hey, whatever motivated her.

Finally, we all gathered in a line across the stage and pretended to turn and jump in a giant double Dutch rope, our moves alternated between windmill arms for the turners and the acrobatics and fancy footwork of the jumpers inside the imaginary two egg-beater ropes.

There must’ve been a large local crowd here, because they sounded like they recognized so much in our movements and were celebrating every city slicker we had met so far!

Vanessa really knew what she was doing with this choreo!

As the music wound down, we went back into our frenzied city walking we did earlier in the dance. We added extra-special drama with leaps and one nonstop, warp-speed spin, performed by—ahem, ME! The music evolved into jazzy sounds that played out in cool chaos. The horns went all high-pitched and whiny, while the piano keys sounded as if a cat was walking across them. And then, slowly and steadily, we became one giant knot, bunched up and tugging, grabbing hold of each other’s hands. As the strings took over, we kept our hands together, but untied ourselves into one straight line across the stage. We lifted our arms into the air, the peaks once again on display. We had become the New York skyline once more.

The crowd was on their feet, whooping and shouting their love for our routine.

YES! A clean routine!

We lowered our arms and took a slow, grateful bow. Overwhelmingly happy with the crowd reception, we bowed a second time. Well, all of us, that is, except Riley—who froze in place when she saw Trey Thompson make his way back to the stage.

“Representing DanceStarz Academy in Florida, ladies and gentlemen, the Squad!”

As the crowd cheered, Trey turned around and looked at us.

“From Florida, really? Don’t they look about ready to enroll in NYC High?” he asked the crowd.

“YES!” Riley couldn’t help herself around Trey Thompson, and she shout-answered him.