Dance Dance Reflex Action


I finished assembling the plastic casing and placed the controller inside of it. Electra watched it all with a skeptical eye. “What is it?” she asked once I was finished.

I put the disk in the machine and booted the system. She walked around the casing to the side with sylph-sized steps and climbed up.

On the TV, the splash screen for Dance Dance Reflex Action came on. Electra squealed. “OH! OH! Is this…? Is this for me?”

“Well, it sure as Hell isn’t for me,” I said.

I’ve gone to one dance my senior year. A lot of people came over to where I stood. They ignored me, to tell Electra that they missed her at dances and parties and games and bonfires…

Nothing I was ever invited to, before or after owning one of the Popular Girls. Now I was surrounded by the Cool Kids, almost none of whom made eye contact.

It was pretty humiliating. I’ll tell you how bad it was. It was so bad ELECTRA started to feel sorry for me. And she kinda blames me for her sylphing!

It’s irrational, I know. She knows it, too, but I was there when she shrank. She has resentment.

Anyway, I was only at the dance because she begged and whined until I agreed to go. And she let me go home way early.

So she knew the only dance I was capable of was dancing around a topic.

But the game had been on sale and she’d mentioned it once and, well… she didn’t smile enough.

She was beaming now. She stepped to the controls, which were flush with the top of the case, and prodded them with a foot.

The controls responded and she started creating a player account. I sat back to watch.

“Come on, Conrad, it’s more fun with two people!”

“You don’t want me dancing on the Gamemat,” I said. “My left foot has two left feet.”

She came to a complete stop and turned to face me. “You could use the hand set.”

“Isn’t that cheating?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Oh, it’ll probably disqualify you from posting a score to the world wide DDRA site, and you’ll never get a Jitterbug scholarship that way…”

“Where the Hell did you pick up such sarcasm?” I asked.

She did NOT roll her eyes. That got my attention. She just looked at me. “Please, Conrad? Can we do something together?”

I kinda thought we did everything together. She was almost never more than a few feet away from me. Except potty breaks or baths.

But then I realized that usually, she was just, kinda, THERE when I was doing something I enjoyed, like being funny for the guys. Or else I was watching her do something, like her gymnastics. Or I read a book while she flipped, sharing nothing more than proximity.

Electra looked as vulnerable as I’ve ever seen her, not counting that first glimpse she had of the big, giant, completely different world she faced as a sylph.

“Sure, Jennifer,” I said. I picked up the controller. She smiled, showing a bazillion teeth, and turned back to her controls.

She entered her name, Electifer, and created an avatar that matched her looks as closely as the game would allow.

And she chose the generic cheerleader costume, which didn’t even kinda resemble the one she used to wear.

“I can see I need to find the character expansion for you,” I said. She glanced at me and bit her lip. I think she’d planned to spend some of her extortion profits on just that software.

For me, I picked the sumo wrestler with green spiky hair and lemon parachute pants. I named him Belly Dancer, obviously. He spun in a pirouette when I hit ‘Select.’

Not that I know what a pirouette is, of course. I’m just guessing that’s what the program did.

When my avatar did this, Electra giggled.

But she did not protest.

I thought I was making fun of something she cared about, and she didn’t protest. She laughed.

I just then started to realize HOW important it was to her, doing something we could share. I felt kind of bad about teasing her.

Not bad enough to pick a less silly avatar, you understand. But I wanted to actually put an effort into this silly game.

We started slow, and Electra chose to play as team. That meant we both contributed to reaching the goals, rather than competed. I appreciated her generosity. Unless she was just trying to get me hooked, then, what, a dollar a dance?

I had to remain wary.

At the end of every song that we survived, Electra’s avatar assumed a sexy stance and fluttered her eyelashes. Mine slapped his gut like he’d just finished eating a very tasty turkey.

It wasn’t exactly easy, but I did start to pick up on the patterns of the dances. If I paid attention, I could keep up pretty well. And ‘dancing’ by using my thumbs on the buttons was a lot easier than even walking across a dance floor. I felt like I’d been practicing for this for years.

Mom came in after we’d been going for a half hour or so. She stood and watched Electra jumping around, feet light on the buttons, hair flying, ass wiggling.

I just leaned forward in the recliner, eyes on the screen, thumbs going a mile a minute.

Mom smiled and moved to where she could see the screen. Belly Dancer had earned a neon pink feather boa, while Electifer had a very nice hairdo.

“What in the name of teenaged angst are you playing?” she asked.

“We’re dancing,” Electra shouted.

“We?” Mom asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

“That’s plural. You’re saying you’re both… dancing?” Mom seemed shocked.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “She’s kicking my ass…”

“It’s TEAM play!” Electra shouted. “I’m not kicking any ass!”

“You’ve earned about 90% of our score,” I said. “You’re carrying me.” I felt confident enough to go on tiptoe for a few bars. That… Was a mistake. I was punished for my hubris.

“I take it,” Mom said, pointing to the screen, “Electra is the character that looks like she knows what she’s doing?”

“Conrad’s doing really well!” Electra insisted. The song ended and I hit pause for a much-needed stretch. Belly sat down, rubbing his feet. Electrifer fanned her face.

“My thumbs are getting a charley horse,” I said. “And she means: Conrad’s doing well, all things considered.”

Electra had bent over, hands on her knees, breathing deeply. She looked up at me. “No, that is NOT what I meant.”

“I think Electra can talk for herself,” Mom said.

“I’ve never doubted that,” I muttered. I held out a hand. “Ice water?”

“Please,” she asked, wiping sweat from her face.

“Do you want to drink some or dip in some?” Mom snorted.

“Can I do both?” Electra asked.

“That’s what I was offering,” I said.



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Index

5. Percentage

7. Clue