“Skateboarding? Not me,” says Jeremy. “My mom will kill me if I break my ankle.”
Well, he’s right about that. Jeremy’s mom is kind of fierce, like a grown-up Odette. Poor guy. I can’t even imagine it.
“Let’s go downtown and act like real people for a change. Get a coffee. Go to a store or something,” says Charis.
“Oh yeah, shopping. I’m so excited! Let’s go, boys!” I say in a high falsetto voice. “You’re kidding me, right? Waste an afternoon on
shopping
?”
“Then how about the movies?” Sybille suggests. “I love the movies!”
“Yeah, why not?” agrees Jeremy quickly.
Really? The movies?
Then I get it. Jeremy, as usual, is looking like a basset hound as he casts his sad, lovesick eyes Sybille’s way. It’s unbelievable that a girl who so badly wants to be in love can never see the guy right in front of her. The same guy who manhandles her body, touches her in very personal places and sees her half naked day in and day out. I don’t get it, but then, I don’t get Jeremy on this one either. Sybille’s just plain flaky. But a friend’s a friend, so the movies it is. I’ll do a little maneuvering to make sure Jeremy gets to sit next to her. Give them a dark theater, and who knows what might happen? Cam clearly knows what I’m thinking and looks my way, shaking his head. Jer is useless when it comes to women.
“Well, have fun, kiddies,” Odette calls over her shoulder as she sweeps off down the hall. “Charis, I know you and your little friends need to have your playtime.”
Charis responds by staring heavenward as if asking for patience.
We leave the school grounds so seldom it’s almost an adventure to take the bus. It’s crowded, so we have to stand. The swaying of the bus feels interesting. I close my eyes and sway with it, feeling the transfer of weight and the way my core takes over when the bus turns a corner. I pick up the motion in my shoulders, exaggerate it a bit, then…
Charis digs me in the ribs. “Try to act normal,” she hisses.
“Hey!” My eyes snap open. “What about him?” I nod to where Cam is standing, holding on to a pole and humming. Loudly.
“He’s got headphones on—people will think he’s singing to the music. You…you look weird. And you’re tall. You stand out more.”
“Sorry for living,” I drawl.
It’s true that when we’re out in the real world, we dancers look a little odd, especially when we walk. My brothers remind me of this regularly. They call it the duck walk. Dancers tend to walk as if they’re in first position—hips turned out, heels together, toes out. But I don’t
think we look like ducks. I prefer to think we’re noticeable because we’re the only people who are standing up straight.
Piling off the bus, we argue about which movie to see, but Cam and I know Jer is going to pick whatever Sybille wants, so we’ll be outnumbered. Whatever. Mavis slows as we pass the popcorn stand, and Johanna and Charis have to grab her by the arms and steer her past the temptation. Popcorn bloats. We shuffle into the theater, and I try, I really do, but in the end, all the maneuvering in the world can’t help Jeremy if he refuses to be helped. He ends up sitting behind, not beside, Sybille.
“Why don’t you just tell her you like her?” I whisper as the lights dim.
“And be shot down?” he replies. “The girls will all gang up on me.”
Unfortunately, he’s right about that. They’re so close, dating one would be like dating them all, which is a really good reason not to date anybody.
On the way home, we get off the bus a couple of stops before the school to check out the skate park. Cam can hardly bear to watch without getting antsy, so in no time he’s negotiated the
loan of a board. We’re not his only cheering section. Pretty much everybody stops to watch. He’s that good.
“Thanks, man,” Cam says as he hands back the board. “I needed that.”
“Honestly, what are you doing in ballet school?” I have to ask.
“Apparently, I need to improve my flexibility and body awareness,” he replies with a grin. “At least, that’s what my coach said. Jer’s my model for that. And if I’m going to fly through the air while dangling from an itty-bitty piece of fabric, I have to work on my confidence. That’s what you’re for. So when I’m a circus star, you can say it’s all because of you.”
* * *
Back at school, it’s fish and veggies for dinner in the cafeteria. Mavis gets there first and nails down our table. She waves to show us where she is, and we all settle in with our trays.
“Rumor has it there’s going to be a big announcement tonight at the gala. I bet they’re going to tell us what the next production will be,”
says Charis. “I’m taking bets, a dollar a guess. Who’s in?”
“I heard that the artistic director wants to do something modern, maybe even something completely new,” replies Mavis. “No way we can guess that.”
“Your guess can be ‘new and modern.’ You’re in for a dollar. Who else?”
“Something with props,” guesses Cam. “Props are all the rage. Remember the company that danced with crutches and canes and wheelchairs?”
Sybille frowns. “But our company is pretty traditional. Surely they’ll do a story ballet. Maybe
Giselle
?”
“I guess
Sleeping Beauty
,” says Johanna.
“
Peter Pan
.”
“
Coppélia
.”
It turns out they’re all wrong.
The pre-professional program at the Premier Dance School is one of the best in the country. You have to audition to get in, and it’s not only talent the adjudicators are looking for. It’s potential. You have to have the right body and the right attitude as well as the right moves. And even if you get in, you’re not actually in. The first audition is for summer school. They pick kids from right across the country to come to the school for four weeks in July to live, eat and train with each other. It’s like every day is an audition. At the end of the four weeks, you have to go home and wait for a letter. Only the very best get picked to return in September and stay for the whole school year. The stress is mind-numbing.
I got the letter three years ago. When it came, I couldn’t open it. I took it to my room, laid it on my bed and sat there looking at it. I could hear Mom pacing back and forth in the kitchen, pretending even harder than I was that getting into Premier didn’t matter. She knew how much I wanted it. I finally opened it only because I could hear my dad and my brothers throwing a football around in the backyard. They never do that. They always go to the high-school playing field, because my brothers throw so well they need a huge field to practice in. They were hanging out, waiting for me to open the letter. Everybody was rooting for me, so I opened it, and here I am. Some days I still can’t believe it.
We all live at the school. It’s three to a room, and Cam, Jer and I always room together. We get bused to a regular public school most mornings for math, science and all that other useless stuff, but at least we only have to do half days. Then it’s back to our real school to work on the important stuff—dance.
All of us are on full scholarship, so part of the deal is making nice with patrons who donate the money to pay our room and board. It’s a
really great school, so we don’t mind too much. Although it feels kind of weird when old ladies dressed in sequins come over to meet us, then talk about our bodies right in front of us.
Thighs like that, Marjorie, this strapping young man is going to be a great jumper, don’t you think?
Yech. They do it with the girls too. It takes some getting used to.
So we’re all hanging out near the doors at the back of the theater, ready to hand out donation forms, when the announcement comes. At first there is total silence. Then gasps and groans. The next production is going to be
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
. And the reason for this nice, safe, traditional choice? Principal dancer Noah Grayson has a tear in his Achilles tendon. He’s out for months. At his age, maybe forever.
Jeremy’s gone absolutely white. I’d laugh at the look on his face, except this isn’t funny. “Cam, you can’t ever go skateboarding again! Look what can happen!”
Cam frowns. “Jer, Noah wasn’t skateboarding. That’s crazy. They said he tore it coming out of a jump.”
“Probably a double tour,” I mutter under my breath.
“It doesn’t matter how he did it,” Jeremy says. “This could absolutely finish his career!”
“Calm yourself, Jeremy,” says Mavis, patting him on the back. “It’s kind of tragic, all right, but it’s not
your
leg. I wonder who’ll dance the lead now that Noah can’t do it.”
That is so the right thing to say to Jeremy, and I grin at Mavis. With Jer’s family background, we depend on him to get us the inside story on stuff like this. The company dancers are a pretty tight group, but all of them are going to start competing for the top job. It’s a given.
“Hey, Jer, can you talk to your mom?” I ask. “I bet she knows who will get the role.”
“On it,” he promises.
“Hey,” says Charis. “Nobody won the bet. What say we order pizza with the money?”
* * *
Next morning the halls are crazy with rumors. Everybody’s got a theory, but nobody’s got any answers, not even Jeremy’s mom. The girls have made these stupid get-well cards for Noah, which they make everybody sign before class.
“Guess I shouldn’t say,
Break a leg
, huh?” I whisper to the guys. Cam snorts.
We warm up and are about halfway through our barre exercises when Miss Amelia, the director of the school, comes into the studio. We keep doing battement tendus while she talks to Mr. Colson. Devant, à la seconde, derrière—front, side, back. Balancing on one foot while we slide the other toe to the front, the side and the back, stretching our insteps over and over again. Then Mr. Colson signals the pianist to stop playing and looks straight at me.
“Robin, will you please go with Miss Amelia?” he asks.
I sigh. I guess it was too much to expect odious Odette to keep quiet about why she was late for class. But the situation gets a little more intense when Mr. Colson hands the class over to the rehearsal assistant and comes with us. None of us say a word as we walk down the hall toward the office, and I’m starting to get a little nervous. It was just a joke.
Miss Amelia opens her office door and waves us in. Bellamy Acton, the artistic director of the company, is waiting for us.
Whoa
. I’ve never
even talked to him before. I mean, he was part of the audition committee, but after that, nada. He doesn’t mess with mere students. Surely I’m not getting kicked out? It was only a prank!
My brothers the football hulks taught me that the best defense is a good offense, so I launch right into my apology. I’m good at apologies. I’ve had a lot of practice. But I’ve barely gotten a word or two out when I see Mr. Colson from the corner of my eye. He’s shaking his head slightly. I shut up. He
doesn’t
want me to apologize?
Mr. Acton tells me to sit down.
“I suppose you’ve heard that Noah Grayson has been injured and is unable to dance?”
I nod my head slowly.
“His injury means that we have to make some changes to the company roster until he’s able to dance again.”
Until
he’s able to dance again? I’m pretty sure Mr. Acton really means
if
Noah is able to dance again, but there’s no way anybody here is going to say that out loud.
“We chose
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
because many of the fairy characters can be danced by either male or female dancers. Since we have
more females in the company, it gives us more scope in casting. All the same, we are a little short of men.”
I’m starting to have a little trouble breathing. Does he mean me? Does he want
me
to dance with the company?
Mr. Acton starts to smile a bit. “I can see by your face that you’re starting to catch on. The answer is no, we are not giving you a place in the company. You have potential, Mr. Goodman, but you also have a lot of work to do. What we are offering is a chance for you to understudy one of the roles. Even though you won’t be performing, it will give you some experience, and quite frankly, I am loathe to enter into rehearsals without an understudy for each of the major roles.”
Major
roles?
“We’ve cast Rick Mathews as Puck,” Mr. Acton continues. “Would you like to understudy the part?” Then I get another one of his little grins. “I hear that playing the role of a mischievous sprite would be quite appropriate for you.”
I am speechless. Puck! The coolest role in ballet, in my humble opinion. Puck! I can’t get it into my head. Would I like to understudy
Puck
?
“It would be an honor, Mr. Acton,” I say before he can change his mind. Then a horrible thought crosses my mind. “Ah, this isn’t a joke, is it?”
“In retaliation for something you’ve done?” Another grin from Mr. Acton. “Hardly,” he adds drily. “My pranking days are over.”
It’s amazing that another ballet dancer even had pranking days. I’m going to like working with Mr. Acton. Everybody’s smiling now, and there are papers to sign, and I get a rehearsal schedule and a lecture about hard work and discipline.
Yeah, yeah, I get it.
I’m going to understudy Puck! I pretty much fly out the door and race back to class.
“So how much trouble are you in this time?” Odette says with a sneer. Cam and Jeremy look concerned, and even Charis seems a little worried.
“I’m going to understudy Puck!” I whoop.
Their faces go blank. And then I see the news start to seep in, and Cam is the first to react. He starts jumping up and down and then he grabs my hands, and I’m jumping up and down too.
“Way to go!” he cheers.
Jeremy doesn’t cheer. He just stands there, looking dazed. “They asked
you
?” he finally says.
What the heck?
“Is that such a crazy idea?”
“Well, it’s kind of unexpected, don’t you think?” he replies.
“What are you trying to say?”
“Nothing, man.” Jeremy shakes my hand stiffly. “Ah, congratulations, Rob.”
The girls all look a little shocked—except for Odette, who’s furious. “Boys get all the luck,” she says angrily. “And you? No way you deserve it.” Then she stalks out of the studio, leaving behind an uncomfortable silence.