Chapter 49 - Day of Rest 5 (Part 11)
The dance floor still pulsed with the echoes of shared mojo. Some campers kept laughing, others mentally replayed their steps, and a few were still trying to process whether Cody was a dancer, a host… or an unregulated source of emotional chaos.
But time didn't stop.
And neither did Cody.
He walked toward the center with Owen spinning behind him like an enthusiastic satellite. The microphone twirled in his hand, and his steps already sounded like the announcement of something big.
"Campers with racing hearts and feet still sizzling!" Cody said. "We're entering the final curve of the tournament, where every step counts, every rhythm screams, and every glance can no longer pretend it doesn't feel something!"
"And every pore dances—even the one that didn't know how!" Owen shouted from the side.
Cody turned.
"The mojo already did its thing, but the floor wants more," Cody said. "So, with permission from our collective heartbeat, we move forward!"
The Quantity Box was at the center.
Owen approached with exaggerated ceremony.
"Official draw, as dictated by unwritten rules and good vibes!" Owen said, reaching in.
He pulled out the paper and read it like a verdict of destiny.
"NUMBER: THREE PEOPLE!" Owen shouted, spinning on one foot.
The energy spiked immediately.
A trio meant more challenging choreography… and emotional imbalance opportunities.
Cody raised his voice without losing flair.
"A rhythmic trinity! A braid of movement! A rollercoaster that demands legs and spontaneous coordination!" Cody said.
"And probably a lot of patience," Noah murmured.
Now, the Name Box.
Owen reached in with eyes closed, pulled the first paper, and revealed it.
"DJ!" Owen shouted.
DJ stood up slowly, but with a subtle smile.
"I'm ready. No promises of acrobatics… but I bring presence," DJ said.
Next name.
"Beth!" Owen announced.
Beth blinked several times before standing, adjusting her glasses with two fingers and crossing her arms for a second like preparing for a final exam.
"I'm ready… I think," Beth said.
Last name.
Owen spun the card dramatically.
"Tyler!"
"YEEEEEES!" Tyler shouted, jumping up like he'd just been signed to an international league.
"My moment! My explosion! I'm going to combine strength, precision, and something I definitely don't have but can fake!" Tyler said.
The three lined up at the front.
An unexpected mix.
DJ: calm and grounded.
Beth: sharp and determined.
Tyler: chaos… with legs.
The Genre Box was placed at the center.
Owen lifted it like a relic from a lost rhythmic civilization.
"And the genre…" he said, reaching in solemnly.
He pulled the paper. Read it.
"Latin rhythm with repetitive sequences, exaggerated gestures, and the kind of energy that makes your aunt get up at weddings even if she doesn't know how to dance!" Owen shouted.
Cody laughed.
"Don't say its name, Owen. Just let the universe recognize it," Cody said.
The other campers burst into nonstop laughter.
"Nooo! Is it the classic visual karaoke dance?" Geoff asked.
"The dance you've known since you were a baby even though no one taught you!" Izzy shouted, already standing by reflex.
"The ultimate collective choreography!" Katie said.
Gwen smiled without making a sound.
Courtney simply wrote: "Universal effect. Moderate risk of chaos."
Cody approached the chosen three.
"This dance demands the following," Cody said.
"Precision in absurdity.
Mandatory smiles.
And the ability to make the whole camp laugh… without losing the beat."
DJ nodded.
Beth swallowed hard.
Tyler spun his arms like windmill blades, without context.
"You got this?" Cody asked.
"Yes!" the three replied.
Cody turned to Owen.
"Hit play on the rhythmic virus!" Cody said.
The song began like any other: with a cheerful, instantly recognizable beat.
Los Del Rio – Macarena
But it only took three seconds for the campers' faces to change instantly.
Tyler jumped with no choreographic justification and clapped with exaggerated precision.
Beth moved with focus, trying to keep count but smiling more than she expected.
DJ, in the center, marked each gesture with absolute confidence. He wasn't the fastest, but something about his movements made each one feel just right.
"Oh no! I know what this is!" Geoff shouted from his seat, half-standing.
"This dance is impossible to ignore!" Katie said, turning to Noah.
Tyler stepped forward twice, spun on his heel, and nailed the hand twist with a wide smile.
Then he looked at DJ, like saying "shall we go all in?"
DJ responded by raising his hand, marking the next sequence with relaxed style.
Beth, meanwhile, did her part without missing a beat.
Her hands went where they should, hips moved in the right direction… and her eyes began to light up with that kind of simple joy that needs no explanation.
From the side, Owen couldn't stay still.
"This song activates the universe's collective soul!" he said, stomping the grass with his feet.
Izzy spun in circles. Literally.
"My nervous system syncs by default!!" she shouted, before climbing a branch.
Cody, still near the console, crossed his arms and watched.
He didn't intervene.
He didn't direct.
He just… enjoyed.
"They got something universal," Cody said quietly, almost to himself. "You can't fail when the rhythm knows itself."
Gwen, from her spot, watched sideways.
She didn't smile openly, but her eyes didn't miss a single step.
Tyler's clumsy precision, DJ's effective calm, Beth's quiet enthusiasm.
It all fit naturally.
Heather pressed her lips together.
"Okay. Not bad," she said.
"Not bad?" Courtney asked, laughing.
"Tyler almost spun on his head… and it worked."
"I'm surprised he didn't fall," Lindsay added.
"But I admit—I want to move."
And they did.
Little by little, campers began copying the steps from their seats.
Geoff raised his arms to the beat.
Katie followed the sequence with her fingers on her legs.
Noah, though still, tapped the same rhythm with his foot.
Cody spun the mic between his fingers, then leaned toward Owen.
"Told you this would light them up," Cody said.
Owen nodded, eyes shining.
"It's irresistible. The body obeys on its own!"
In the center, the trio reached the second round.
It no longer felt like a demonstration.
It felt like a celebration.
DJ marked the beat with ease, arms and legs in balance.
Beth raised her energy, still following memorized steps.
Tyler launched into a mini improvised sequence and—against all odds—didn't trip.
The whole camp was laughing, clapping, connecting with something that didn't depend on skill or technique.
Just desire.
And that… was abundant.
The rhythm kept moving through the camp air like music with purpose: activating, contagious, magnetic. What began as a performance by DJ, Beth, and Tyler was becoming, without formal invitation, a choreography shared by instinct.
Tyler, who at first seemed at risk of dislocation, now moved with unusual ease. His gestures were exaggerated, yes, but the energy was authentic.
"I'm dancing with soul! And I haven't fallen yet!" Tyler shouted, spinning with arms wide.
Beth stayed steady, executing the steps with a mix of focus and quiet joy. She wasn't trying to stand out, but her precision placed her right in the visual center.
DJ did his thing with rhythm, raising his eyebrows with each hip move, like the music passed through his spine before reaching his feet.
And then… they started joining in.
Lindsay was first.
She said nothing.
Just marked the steps from her spot, then stepped forward with an extroverted smile that needed no permission.
Katie followed.
Then Noah, murmuring something about losing credibility… but moving his arms anyway.
Geoff jumped in, aligning with Tyler and bumping shoulders without warning.
"This step is global! You can't fight collective rhythmic culture!" Geoff said, laughing.
Heather, from her seat, frowned.
"This is getting out of control," she said.
Courtney lowered her notebook.
"And yet, it works better than any orderly round."
Izzy jumped into the group with a flower stuck to her forehead.
"My spinal cord demanded it!" she said, spinning like a helicopter.
Gwen watched it all.
She didn't move.
She didn't speak.
But she no longer frowned.
Cody stood from the edge of the floor, walking slowly.
Not to join.
Not to interfere.
Just to be close.
The music was no longer background.
It was the engine.
The repeated steps—claps, gestures, spins—stopped being individual.
Now they were a shared code.
Beth turned toward DJ, he toward Tyler, then to Lindsay, then to Katie… and so everyone spun in sequence, like gears never designed to work together… but somehow did.
The dance floor burned with energy.
"This isn't a number anymore!" Owen shouted.
"It's a live ritual!"
Harold performed alternate steps, fusing his own style and breaking the sequence… without interrupting it.
Bridgette and Leshawna stood at the edges, guiding from there with delighted expressions.
The rhythm gradually faded, but the energy didn't disappear. The final beats dissolved into laughter, scattered claps, and heavy breaths. One by one, the campers returned to their spots: tousled, smiling, some sweaty, all wrapped in that collective cloud only a shared dance can leave behind.
Cody walked slowly to the center. No longer bouncing or smiling like a host. He moved like someone who just experienced something unexpected… and knows it.
"Well," Cody said, adjusting the mic under his chin. "I think we officially broke the line between tournament and party. I don't know if we planned it… but we definitely lived it."
Several applauded.
Others still laughed at things no one had said.
Katie pretended to fix her hair—but did it to the beat.
Heather sat with legs crossed like someone evaluating the UN.
Beside her, Owen rejoined with the air of a satisfied conspirator.
"My engines were pure, I swear!" Owen said.
Cody turned slowly toward him.
"Engines?" Cody asked.
Owen pointed to the sky.
"This all started as a noble mission. We wanted to cheer up a certain emotionally gifted girl who's been hiding under her dark bangs," Owen said, glancing briefly at Gwen.
Katie let out a short laugh, covering her mouth.
Noah released a barely audible "oof."
Cody paused, then looked at the group with open arms.
"Then it turned out better than expected," Cody said. "Because we didn't just cheer up the camp—I ended up with a new toy."
He turned slowly toward Noah.
"Something boring… but new," Cody said, raising his eyebrows playfully.
The camp burst into laughter.
Noah squinted, still smiling.
"The funny thing," Noah said, "is that the toy already comes with built-in sarcasm. Low battery required."
Katie leaned on his shoulder, saying nothing.
And didn't move away.
Cody lowered the mic slightly and spun on his heel.
"Alright," Cody said. "The final step is coming. Literally. The final dance. The round that will decide more than scores. Because it's no longer about winning."
Pause.
"It's about closing with style," Cody said.
The group fell silent for a second.
Their faces were different.
No tension.
Just anticipation.
And Cody, in that center of earth already marked by steps and emotions, raised his voice once more:
"Let's go for the final number."
The air in the camp was quieter than ever. The sky slowly dipped into soft orange tones, and the floor looked like a mirror ready to reflect the last drama.
Cody stood at the front, this time with the mic in hand.
The smile wasn't that of a host anymore—it was the smile of someone who knows the ending is near.
"Campers… it's time," Cody said. "Final round. Last number. The closing."
Owen appeared with the Final Box, adorned with silver ribbons reflecting the last rays of the day.
"Final draw, final madness!" Owen shouted. "And this one has something special…"
He pulled the first card.
Read aloud:
"Number: Two people."
Some nodded.
Others murmured with curiosity.
"But pay attention…" Owen said, pulling the next paper.
"It's a special ticket duo! One of the chosen gets to pick their partner."
Everyone turned toward the central box with more focus than usual.
Owen reached in.
Pulled the name.
Turned it.
And read it.
"Heather."
The camp froze for a few seconds.
Heather's gaze lifted like she'd already expected it.
Without ceremony, she stood. Walked to the front, through crossed murmurs and barely hidden glances.
She stopped calmly, looked around… and smiled.
"I don't need a list or time to deliberate," Heather said. "I want Mr. Center of Attention by my side."
Cody blinked twice.
Then tilted his head with a mix of surprise and resignation.
"Me?" Cody asked.
"I've seen your dances, your laughs, your power to scatter emotions. This finale… deserves that," Heather said, without hesitation.
Some reacted instantly.
Katie crossed her arms and let out a disguised "obviously."
Courtney leaned forward, expressionless but with sharp eyes.
Gwen just sighed through her nose.
"This is going to hurt…" Noah murmured quietly.
Cody walked to the center.
Stopped beside Heather, and murmured:
"This finale will bring more commentary than steps."
Heather turned to him.
"Then let's make it worth it," she said.
Owen, excited, returned to the box to announce the genre.
"And now, the final cherry…" Owen said.
He reached in.
Pulled the ticket.
And as he read it, his voice changed tone.
"Uh… this says 'IZZY SPECIAL' in glitter letters," Owen said.
Izzy, from her corner, screamed.
"IT'S MINE!! I PUT IT IN! IT'S MY SURPRISE!"
She jumped to the front with a foil-covered box that looked like it contained compressed emotions.
"I was supposed to draw this, but the universe wanted it for Cody!" Izzy said, spinning.
"What does it mean?" Heather asked, half-leaning in.
Izzy took a deep breath.
Placed a hand on the box.
And said, almost seriously:
"I prepared this song for Cody. My intention… was to create something that blends dreaminess, a seductive touch, and that unforgettable closing atmosphere."
Cody looked at her like he didn't know whether to thank her or run.
"I wasn't expecting that…" he murmured.
Izzy just smiled.
"No one expects anything from me! But when it arrives… you have to dance it!"
She stood beside the improvised console.
Looked at Heather.
Then at Cody.
Raised her hand dramatically.
And said:
"Final dance, multiplied sensation, unexpected style… activating in three, two… one!"
Play.
—
The floor was ready.
The sky began to tint with shades of purple and deep blue, as if it knew something different was coming. The air, despite the lingering heat, had become lighter, more charged with anticipation.
Izzy, standing by the console, pressed the start button with a theatrical gesture that felt like conjuring fate.
The music began.
Earned It – The Weeknd
It wasn't a sonic blast. Not an explosive start.
It was soft.
Captivating.
A mid-tempo rhythm, with instrumental touches that floated like perfume over the ears.
And as soon as it began…
The camp understood this was going somewhere else.
Katie let out a quiet "oh…" as if she hadn't expected that tone.
Courtney tilted her head, attentive.
Bridgette crossed her arms and pursed her lips slightly.
Gwen didn't react. Not yet.
And in the center…
Heather stepped forward.
Unhurried.
Controlled.
Cody walked in from the side, no jokes this time, hands in his pockets, gaze serene… but not cold.
They stood face to face.
No words.
Just a look.
The floor surrounded them in respectful silence, though the subtext no longer hid.
"Is this a dance… or a choreographed emotional provocation?" Noah murmured.
"Both," Owen said, eyes locked on them.
Tyler squeezed his knees, uncomfortable but curious.
DJ crossed his arms with a half-smile.
Izzy spun in place, murmuring, "Oh, the framing is perfect. Emotion versus charisma. I'd call this 'the slow-burn waltz.'"
The music continued.
And they began to move.
Heather spun slowly, her dress barely catching the motion, before stopping one step from Cody.
He marked a subtle beat with his shoulders, a barely perceptible footwork, and received her into the rhythm.
No contact.
Only tension.
The movements were slow, calculated.
Elbow turning. Gaze chasing.
Heather advanced a little more, letting her silhouette pass in front of Cody… without touching him.
Lindsay, from her seat, widened her eyes.
"She's flirting," she murmured. "But not like I do… this is different."
Bridgette pressed a twig between her fingers.
"She's not playing. She's showing who can dance without asking permission."
Gwen said nothing.
But her foot, hidden beneath her crossed leg, began tapping the grass—slowly.
Heather spun again, with more ease.
Cody followed.
She looked at him over her shoulder, without stopping.
"I'm surprised you're not talking," Heather said, not fully turning.
"Words distract. And you don't need more attention than you already have," Cody replied.
Heather smiled.
Not mockingly.
With advantage.
The game had begun.
—
The music flowed like a warm current, setting a rhythm that demanded closeness, playfulness, and a healthy dose of refined boldness. Heather and Cody weren't spinning aimlessly or executing technical steps to impress. Their dance was something else. A silent exchange. A game of seduction with rules invented on the spot.
Heather moved like someone measuring the air's temperature with each step. Her body traced soft lines, calculated curves that brushed against provocation without crossing the line. Cody, in turn, responded with controlled movements. He didn't avoid. But he didn't yield either. He moved in sync like someone who understood the language… but chose to improvise the grammar.
The space between them shrank, fluctuated. Sometimes, they almost touched. Sometimes, they orbited like planets without collision.
From the edges of the clearing, reactions began to stir.
Katie murmured something under her breath, clutching her shirt.
"She looks at him like she knows him," Bridgette said, exhaling slowly.
"She doesn't," Gwen replied, dry. "She's interpreting him."
Lindsay frowned so dramatically she unintentionally mimicked Courtney.
"I did a similar spin when I danced with Cody. But this is different… this feels like a scene from a drama."
Heather, at that moment, stopped right in front of Cody. Not face-to-face. More like… shoulder to chest. He slid an arm to spin around her without fully touching. The crowd held its breath.
"You're close, but you don't touch me," Heather said softly.
"No need," Cody replied, looking into her eyes without discomfort.
The steps that followed weren't just synchronized. They were complementary. Heather dipped with a marked bend, Cody rose slightly onto his toes. Then they switched roles. Mutual balance. Choreographed provocation.
From the side, Owen fanned the air like trying to cool the temperature.
"This is emotional acrobatic dance! Hip turns with graphic novel intent!"
"This is borderline spicy!" Izzy shouted… but she did it with two leaf-made fans.
Geoff leaned on DJ, who just shook his head with a smile.
"Cody's lost control. But elegantly," DJ murmured.
Heather spun sharply, placing herself with her back to Cody.
He sidestepped around, now facing her.
They stopped for the first time.
No movement.
Just staring.
And Heather thought.
POV Heather
Cody wasn't running.
He wasn't hesitating.
He was… playing with fire.
And that thrilled her.
She had directed glances, movements, silences.
And he responded with precision.
Never submissively.
Never with rejection.
But never with easy surrender either.
That challenged her.
And being challenged was the most direct way to feel alive.
The girls watching, the murmuring voices—they didn't matter.
This floor was hers.
He was dancing with her.
But he wasn't falling.
And that… pushed her further.
Heather slid a hand over her own shoulder, spun without a word, and stepped toward him again.
Cody didn't move.
He just let her approach.
And she thought.
Not aloud.
Not as a plan.
As impulse.
"If he won't fall," Heather thought, "then… I will."
But only on her own terms.
And just as the music softened, and the world seemed to spin slower…
Cody slid his hand through the air between them, as if measuring the final space.
Heather looked into his eyes.
Breathed.
Prepared herself.
Because what came next…
Was the end.
—
The music softened, but its effect reversed. Each note became more intimate, more charged. Heather and Cody now stood at the center of the clearing, surrounded by campers who didn't dare comment… yet. No one wanted to break what was forming there. Something crackled in the air. Something more than steps.
Heather moved fluidly, spinning slowly while Cody descended in a soft step, crossing behind her without touching. Their bodies were harmony in transit. No contact. No distance. A contained balance.
Katie breathed deeply.
"This isn't just chemistry. It's a statement," she murmured.
Courtney crossed her arms—not in defense. In nerves.
Lindsay bit her lip.
Bridgette stared more intensely than anyone.
Gwen still hadn't blinked.
Heather spun once more, this time marking the center with her movement.
Cody closed the circle, standing directly in front of her.
No words.
No gestures.
Just presence.
And the others… they knew.
DJ lowered his voice.
"It's not that they're dancing well. It's that they're telling a story we don't know."
Noah, arms crossed, added:
"This number… wasn't to win the tournament. It was to win something else. I don't know what, but they're going for it."
And they did.
The final spin was the slowest.
Heather circled halfway, Cody mirrored, and they ended face-to-face.
Almost touching.
Without touching.
The group's silence was absolute.
The music reached its end.
And then…
Heather kissed him.
It wasn't explosive.
Or long.
Or dramatic.
It was precise.
Elegant.
Measured.
Their lips met briefly, a suspended instant.
Cody didn't pull away.
Didn't break eye contact.
Just closed his eyes for half a second.
Then… they separated.
The music ended.
And no one moved.
Not a voice.
Until Owen murmured:
"…okay. Now I need a bottle of water with diluted emotions."
Izzy spun once.
"Final scene of an alternative film with unknown emotional rating!"
Katie let out a "wow" that sounded more like an exhale than a word.
Bridgette said nothing.
Courtney just clutched her notebook to her chest.
Gwen stood up.
Didn't speak.
Didn't look at anyone.
Just turned.
And walked a few steps away from the group.
DJ looked at Cody.
Cody didn't smile.
Didn't speak.
Just lowered his arms.
Heather turned, gave a small bow, and returned to her seat with her head held high.
And the camp… understood the tournament was over.
Not with a step.
With a choice.
—
The floor was still.
Not from exhaustion.
But from that kind of silence that arrives when emotions no longer fit into words.
Heather had returned to her seat.
The music had faded.
The sky was a deep blue curtain closing without announcing the end.
Then, Cody raised the microphone.
The sound of the device was the only thing heard for a few seconds.
"Campers…" Cody said, voice firm.
"…this was more than a tournament. It was a test, a shared madness, a dance floor that revealed more than we expected."
Murmurs of agreement.
Some still catching their breath.
Cody turned his head toward Owen, who still held his cap like a trophy.
"And as expected from minute one… the official winner, for excessive charisma, tireless energy, and for nearly breaking the console five times…"
Pause.
"Owen!"
Burst of laughter and applause.
But brief.
Owen, as if he knew, didn't jump or shout right away.
He simply stood, raised both hands to the sky, as if in slow motion…
"I… AM… THE CHAMPION!" Owen shouted.
Leshawna clapped.
Geoff mimed a trumpet.
Izzy ran around him like human confetti.
And right then…
Cody lowered the mic.
Stepped back.
Looked toward a point outside the group.
Where Gwen walked away with calm rhythm.
Without looking back.
Without speeding up.
And Cody followed her.
No explanation.
No hesitation.
Just walked.
With that calm that carries no doubt, though it does carry weight.
The group froze.
Bridgette placed a hand on her chest.
Courtney clutched her notebook to her lap.
Lindsay pursed her lips, still tender.
The three watched Cody's back, that figure walking away with steps that said more than the kiss before.
And without speaking to each other…
They thought the same.
"Not everything's been said."
"Not everything ends with a dance."
"This isn't over."
Katie looked at Noah.
Noah met her gaze.
And in that moment, neither Cody nor Gwen were the center.
The bonds had already multiplied.
And the tournament…
had opened more paths than it had closed.
Meanwhile,
Owen spun at the center of the dance floor, arms wide, eyes closed, smile overflowing…
"YOU CAN PUT A SASH ON ME! YOU CAN PAINT ME GOLD! THIS VICTORY IS MINE!"
And from somewhere in the camp…
even though it wasn't really playing…
everyone could hear that invisible melody.
"We are the champions…"
Only this time…
no one quite knew who the champion really was.
But everyone had been one—just a little.