But a few seconds later, as I braced myself for the tricky footwork Vanessa had drilled into me, something totally unexpected happened—just as I went into my most important turn series.

I took my prep and held my plié for a second, then pulled up, spotting—One! Two! Three! Four! Five turns! And then . . . somebody bumped a stage light.

The light dimmed for a second, then it shifted—to the shimmering sequins on Trey’s jacket. Trey was sitting at the judges’ panel in front of the stage, totally unaware that the floodlight bouncing off his jacket was blinding me.

HUH?

I lost my spotting at a time I’d needed to concentrate most. The sequins on his jacket were like a million tiny mirrors pointing a million tiny bright suns in my face. I froze in a panic, not knowing where I’d left off and what to do next.

What had happened to I would dance and I would nail it?!

It was a disaster. I was blinking into flashes of white light that I could see even when I turned away or closed my eyes. I couldn’t believe this was the end to my time at nationals. My song was more than halfway over, but I wanted to run off the stage now. But I couldn’t—because I couldn’t see where the exits were. Usually, I would have kept going, but I couldn’t do any leaps or jumps or turns—or I’d risk falling off the stage.

The audience was starting to whisper and rustle around, clearly confused by what was happening. I was so embarrassed. I couldn’t move.

The music came to a screeching halt.

“Technical difficulties!” came over the loudspeaker. “Do not move. Please hold.”

And then, from the nonflashing corner of my eye, I saw Eliza and Megan rush—well, not rush, more like carefully stumble into the light, to stand next to me.

“We can help you offstage!” Eliza whispered. Then she paused. “No, we can’t. It’s a lot brighter here than I thought.”

I was so grateful to have them there.

“Thanks for being good friends,” I said, shading my eyes from the light.

But then Megan took two light steps to the left and two to the right before hopping back once and making a quiet buzzing sound.

The Bumblebee dance! I’d taught it to Lily, Trina, and Riley at the rink, but Megan hadn’t danced along. Apparently, though, she’d been paying attention. But why was she doing this?

Eliza joined in, and after a beat, I followed too. The crowd roared when they recognized what we were doing. Some of the younger kids in the audience jumped out of their seats and filled the aisle, doing the line dance along with us. Pumped up by all the fun, Trey removed his jacket and joined the kids in the audience to groove alongside them.