of Dancing Under the Stars. You saw the final three couples battle it out last night. And right now, one of our three finalists is about to be eliminated. Last night, millions of you voted online, called, and texted your votes,” Matt said. “With those votes, combined with our judges’ scores, we can now reveal which of our couples will be the first to be eliminated tonight.”
Xavier had his arms around me onstage. Tonight was much tenser than last night’s group-dance orgy. No chest-bumping backstage tonight. None of us were ready to fly the white flag now. Bret barely slept last night—I knew, because he kept me awake the whole time, tossing and turning. And I had fretted because I just wanted him to win.
The ominous elimination music began to play. “Xavier,” Matt said, “last night, Karen said your freestyle was the most creative she’s ever seen, but did the viewers agree?”
Our freestyle had been amazing. I had strung a medley of Xavier’s greatest hits together, and we’d danced this cha-cha, rock-fusion number. Xavier had flipped me over like a tortilla.
“Laura, last night, Steve said your Viennese waltz was exquisite, but did the viewers think it was enough for you to win the trophy?”
Dima held Laura, who, despite the layers of tanning cream, looked very flush. They were out for sure. Her Latin actually really improved this season, but it was her Standard that landed her in the finale. Their Viennese waltz was exquisite—perfect lines, feet, and body posture. And she looked great during the paso doble. But it was her freestyle that killed their chances. She tried to dance a tango/cha-cha combo that just didn’t flow well at all.
“And Robyn, Benny said you’re the team to beat, and you received a perfect 30. But will the viewers send you to the finish line?”
Bret and Robyn looked confident and weren’t even breaking a sweat with the hot lights shining in their faces. Her paso had been perfect. But in her freestyle, she went 100% hip-hop, and sometimes the viewers vote against that. But it didn’t seem to faze Robyn. I studied Bret. It was nice to see him smile again. He seemed as happy as he had been when we were teens.
“The couple in third place is…” Matt paused, and the drum rolled. “Dima and Laura.”
Yes, yes, yes! Xavier and I were in the final two!
Xavier threw his arms around me, and I swore I was going to suffocate. When he pulled back, I saw that I’d gotten glitter all over his white shirt.
“Look pro, Xavier,” I whispered.
The audience gave Dima and Laura a standing ovation as they walked down the stairs from the stage. Matt embraced them. “Laura, you’ve gone from a teen mom to a dancer. Tell us what this experience has been like for you.”
Dima clutched Laura to his chest. “It’s been incredible. I met so many great people and learned so much about myself. But the best part of this entire experience has been meeting Dima. He’s changed my outlook on my life, and he’s a truly beautiful person inside and out.”
Dima gave her a kiss on the mouth. I couldn’t believe he would be so open about hooking up with his celebrity partner, especially since she was a teenager.
Bret was right. Dima was a creep.
Matt aborted the interview. “Ladies and gentlemen, Dima Volkov and Laura Benson. Coming up, a musical performance from John Matthew.”
We headed back to the red room to watch John’s performance. I couldn’t believe the producers had convinced him to come on the show. Between Xavier, Bret, and John, I swore I’d been sucked right into some kind of childhood flashback.
Dima and Vika were huddled in the corner consoling Laura. I sat next to Bret.
Bret had to win this. I had won twice before—once with a boy-bander and once with an NHL hockey player. Bret needed to win now for Pierce’s family. For himself.
“You nervous?” Bret asked. He was decked out in a tuxedo with tails. Like a prince.
“For once, I am. I just want you to win.” John started singing my favorite song, “Careless Kiss.” I closed my eyes and relaxed into Bret’s arms. He kissed my neck, and I wanted to savor the moment forever. I loved Bret. He made me happy. And I deserved to be happy.
The song ended, and the producer called us back onstage.
“Here we go,” Xavier said, pulling me up. He jutted out his elbow, ready to escort me like a proper gentleman. I slipped my