It’s not exactly a movie premiere, but Coco didn’t mess around making us look like red carpet material. The band’s new P.A., a middle-aged no-nonsense woman named Peggy, arranged for a viewing of Kings of Sound’s newest music video, which features my dance moves.

I’m still floating on the high from last weekend. I shocked everyone, except for Shay, so she claims, when I won not only the 100-yard breaststroke, but 200-yard breaststroke too. I got second place only to Shay in the 200-yard I.M. For a girl who had never made it to the finals at NCAA and didn’t even qualify in any individual events last year, the results have the swimming world buzzing. Sure, I’d had a major breakthrough at summer nationals, but it had almost felt like a one-hit-wonder situation until NCAA. Now there can be no doubt in anyone’s mind, especially my own, that I’m the real deal.

Shay’s floating on her own high, completely in la-la land. When she took the top podium for the 200 I.M., gasps echoed throughout as Jett Decker came forward as the one to present her medal. But when she bent her head for him to slip the medal around her neck, he shook his head, got down on one knee, and slipped a ring on her finger instead. I cried.

Jett loves Shay so fierce and so loud, the public proposal made perfect sense for them. We all knew it was coming. Even Mom, who grumbled about how young they were, and how it happened too fast, took on a glowing happiness I rarely saw from her.

Jack arranged a limo to pick us up at the condo. He’s already at the theater with the band, doing media stuff, answering press questions and taking photos. After firing Nolan on Thanksgiving, Will, Townie and Jack decided they didn’t need a permanent piano player in the band. If it worked out and they found the right person, they’d take him or her on, but their dynamic with just the three of them was solid.

It came out that Addy had leaked the photos of Jack and me to the press back in September. I don’t know if she was trying to sabotage our relationship or just wanted to make a quick buck, but it sealed her fate, and her brother’s, with the band. Any hope they could come back in some capacity was squashed. They were toxic.

I didn’t mind that Jack and I went public anyway, especially now that I have confidence in us, in this, in his love for me. He’s seen all of me, from the locker room Kick, to the sobbing panic attack Kick, and he only seems to keep loving me harder. Since Christmas, we’ve been able to see each other a couple times a week. It’d be better if it was every day, but as far as I’m concerned, we have our whole lives ahead of us. Besides, we’re both chasing big dreams, and we support each other in that.

The world already knew the song Fireball was about me, and since I’d been posting my dance moves on my blog and Instagram account, the world also knew about my little side talent. So, I finally came around to being the star in one of the band’s videos. It isn’t for Fireball, that song isn’t suited for my hip hop-style moves. It’s for one of their faster, upbeat tunes that plays on the radio. It’s their only song that could almost be classified as pop, though the guys practically growled when I told them that.

“And that’s why we need you to be the dancer,” Townie had explained. “The studio keeps trying to get us to dance and that’s just crossing a line. Next thing, we’ll be called a boy band.”

So now I’m in a limo, toasting champagne with Coco, Jett, Shay, Beatrice and her boyfriend Daryl. As it turns out, Coco and Townie hooked up that night in L.A., after Jack pulled me into the hotel bedroom, leaving them alone in the suite’s living room. They connected again when the fall tour ended and have been seeing each other regularly since. He’s twelve years younger than her, but they’re really into each other.

When we pull up to the theater, Jett and Shay get out of the limo first. I follow behind them, blinking at the flashes going off around me as I seek out Jack. He’s standing by the door, wearing a black three-piece suit, but still looking comfortable with his usual high top skater sneakers. The shoes are new, not yet scuffed. I notice the tie is a deep blue, matching the color of my dress. Coco must have been involved in his wardrobe choice.

Jack’s face is hard and serious, like it often is when media is around, but his eyes are soft when I meet them, and he lets out a little sigh as he takes me in, like he’s finally able to relax now that I’m here.

I walk up to him and he places his hands on my hips, brushing his lips over mine. “Fireball, I don’t know how you expect me to get through the night’s events with you in that dress, by my side, while I watch you on the big screen dancing to my music.”

His words send tingles through me, and I have to agree, the night’s going to be excruciating. Jack places a hand on my bare back, and I see him glance there, his eyes widening at the low scoop and the way my entire back is exposed.

“Fuck,” he says on a groan before turning back around and moving us through the front doors.

The media isn’t allowed inside the theater, and the gathering is a small, private one. They’ve already put out half a dozen music videos and never had a formal affair like this. I know Jack only arranged it for my benefit. Once we’re all seated inside the theater a few words are spoken by the producers before they shut off the lights.

I’ve already seen the video, of course, but seeing it on the big screen with friends and family, it’s more intimate than I expect. I don’t know if anyone else in the theater feels that way, but I sense Jack does by the way he pulls me close to him with one arm around my shoulder, the other reaching across my waist to hold my hand.

Our relationship is now intertwined in a unique way with this visual production; it’s an undeniable public display – even though Jack doesn’t make a physical appearance in the video, it’s his voice, his lyrics, and his band that I’m moving my body to. I spent some time learning new moves, polishing others, and working with a choreographer to make this video work. And it came together. Wow, it really flows. I’m fucking proud of myself. A year ago I don’t know if I would’ve gone through with it. I wouldn’t have felt I deserved it. I might have feared it was only a handout, a favor from a guy, and I didn’t have what it takes. Sure, I still have those feelings, but they aren’t holding me back, bringing me down. I’m no Beyoncé, but I’ve got mad dancing talent. I can see that on the screen. Jack saw it. The band saw it. Now the whole world will see it. I can own it.

I’m beaming as I stay at Jack’s side throughout the night, at the after party. It’s past midnight when my feet start to ache, and I wonder when it’s socially acceptable for us to peace out. Jack’s been touching me in little ways all night and I don’t want to wait any longer to be alone with him.

Jack must sense it too because he guides me out of the bar through a side door, until we’re in an alley. Giggling, I turn to Jack. “Are alleys going to be a thing for us?”

He smiles. “I’m hot as hell. Wanna cool off somewhere?”

I raise an eyebrow at the question, remembering asking him that same question the night we met. “What did you have in mind?” I can’t recall exactly how the conversation went outside the Happy Hollow, but I’ll do my best to play along.

“Water.”

Less than an hour later, I’m trying to work out how Jack managed to get access to one of the largest outdoor Olympic-sized pools in the country in the middle of the night. This time when I walk up the high dive in front of him in my underwear, I’m actually more self-conscious than I was that night we met. Something about being outside makes me feel more exposed, even though it’s nearly pitch black, and no one can see past the giant stadium surrounding the pool.

When we reach the top, we stand on the platform and gaze out at the city lights, the hype and glamour from the evening seeming distant now. Aside from the noise of cars on the highway, it’s quiet up here.

Jack takes my hand. “Fireball.”

I turn to look at him, and he leans forward, tucking in a loose strand from my updo that’s now beginning to unravel. “You know, you stole a piece of me from the second I laid eyes on you. It wasn’t even falling in love exactly. You just took me, body and soul, and I couldn’t fight it.”

I let his words sink in, going deep. He’s seen all of me now, and that gives the words power. They’re true for me too.

As my eyes drift over his bare chest and back up to his face, I echo the words, “Body and soul,” not even realizing I’ve said them aloud until he squeezes my hand.

It takes a moment to process what’s happening when he gets down on a knee. “I can’t imagine this journey without you and I don’t want to. We’ve both got big dreams, and I want to go after them together, as a team. For the rest of our lives.”

He must have been clutching a ring in his other hand because he’s holding one out in front of us now. Lowering his voice, he looks at me with pleading eyes. “Please, Lydia Kick Spark, marry me, be my wife.”

My jaw hangs open as I stare at him, his bright blue eyes filled with such adoration I’m lost to them. I blink a few times, so caught off guard I can’t quite process this is real.

“Fireball,” he says.

A million thoughts cross my mind. But he’s a rock star. He can’t get married. We haven’t been together that long. He’s my first real boyfriend! The first guy I’ve truly fallen in love with. Or, like he said, given pieces of myself to until he’s got all of me, body and soul.

None of these fears override what I know I want more than anything. “Yes, Jack.” I get down on my knees so I’m closer to his level.

Jack gives me the grin that shows both dimples as he slips the ring on my finger, and then leans in for a long, burning kiss.

We sit up there, legs dangling, just like we did that first night. This time, I’m floating higher than ever before. I don’t know how long we sit there, alternating between grinning at each other like idiots, and kissing each other with such intensity it’s a wonder we still have our underwear on.

“My mom’s going to flip her shit,” I confess to him as we finally decide to take a dive.

Jack’s grin gets bigger. “I know. You were starting to get restless that she was too happy with you lately and you hadn’t done anything to make her flip. I was just trying to make things right between you guys again.”

My heart swells impossibly bigger at his words. How does this guy know me so well and understand my relationship with my mom better than I do?

I’m giddy with happiness, amazed that I’m not terrified. This doesn’t solve all the unknowns; it doesn’t mean there aren’t a million scary things ahead of us as we both chase our dreams. But I know that Jack Kingston isn’t an addiction I’ll need to quit. He’s a constant source of love, like Shay. A source of reliability, like swimming. And especially a source of the adrenaline rush and unpredictability I crave, when he’s on stage, taking me in a tour bus, or proposing to me on a high dive in the middle of the night. Riding through it all with Jack is exactly right. I get the sensation of floating weightlessness, buzzing anticipation, along with the steady, unconditional stability, everything I need, with this guy at my side.