Around this time on every Wednesday, Othello did what he did best. No, it's not singing. He sucks at singing. No, it also wasn't challenging people to sword fights. Seeing the boy with a sword was a horrifying sight. What I mean is, Othello stood in the middle of his nearly empty cabin on the balls of his feet, his low top Converses keeping him poised on his toes. His eyes were closed and his arms hovered at his sides as if they were unable to just rest there. On his bunk, the top one, rested an iPod with a speaker attached. It too was not making sound. Well, not yet.
Then the song began, and Othello started moving with it. It wasn't his usual style of dance, which was good. He didn't like being tied down to one style, and the more uncomfortable he was outside of his element, the better. Today's song was Rather Be by that one group Clean Bandit. Othello had heard it just the other day at breakfast. He twisted and turned, lept and spun. Even if most of it was impromptu no one could even tell. He began laughing along with his movements and soon enough, he had become the music.