Breaking Big (6 page)
Mr. Acton calms everybody down, then looks at me. It’s my turn to talk, and I’ve rehearsed in my head what I’m going to say. I know I can’t go on. It’s not because I’m scared. If it were just me, I’d go out there, even if I flopped. But it’s not just me, it’s the company. And I’m going to ruin the production for everybody.
I stand up. My mouth feels dry, and it’s hard to swallow. I know I’ll never get another chance like this, but I have to do what’s right. I take a deep breath, open my mouth, and all the wrong words fall out.
“I know I’m not nearly as good as all of you, and I’m scared to death I’ll wreck the whole production. But if you’ll help me, I’ll work day and night to get it right.”
Silence first, and then the whole room erupts in cheers. Rick is grinning crazily, Mr. Acton is smiling, and the others (except maybe David) look like, well, like maybe it will be okay.
What have I done?
* * *
Rick, Mr. Acton and I go to one of the rehearsal rooms by ourselves while Miss Amelia takes over rehearsing the rest of the company.
“Robin, let’s start with the flower scene. We need to go over all of your choreography to see what parts you’ve got down, what parts need work and what parts, if any, we need to remove or change.”
Read: parts you’re so bad at that we have to take them out
.
At first it’s hard to dance when I can’t hide in the back row like a good little understudy. Mr. Acton’s eyes are like solar flares, way fiercer than Odette’s puny glares. When I miss a step, Rick yells it out from his wheelchair, and that’s okay, because it’s only us in the studio. After a bit, having two amazing teachers all to myself starts to feel good. Everything’s going great until he starts calling in other dancers to work with me.
First it’s Bottom. Bottom’s character is supposed to be really funny. He has to pretend that he’s the best at everything but then make all sorts of ridiculous mistakes to make the audience laugh. Puck’s character uses magic to turn Bottom’s head into a donkey’s head, making him look even more ridiculous. The scene is really comical, and when Rick and the dancer playing Bottom do the scene, it’s hilarious. But I’m terrified.
Mr. Acton motions for the music to start, and Bottom starts strutting around the studio. I can’t stop laughing. Everything he does is funny, and I’m in awe. I tiptoe around him, staying out of the
limelight, waiting for my cue to sneak up behind him. Then I lift the fake donkey’s head to slip it over Bottom’s real head. Unfortunately, I don’t lift it high enough and practically knock the poor guy out with the prop.
“No!” shouts Mr. Acton. “Do it again!” Bottom gives me back the donkey’s head and I try to remember how Rick did it, but he’s getting mixed up in my head with the Puck on the
DVD
. I have no idea what I’m doing.
After a break, Mr. Acton calls in Peaseblossom, one of the fairies, to rehearse with me. She looks like a thundercloud.
“Can he do it, Bellamy? I mean, really do it?” she asks, as if I’m not there. “I hate dancing with amateurs.”
“Give the boy a chance,” replies Mr. Acton. “You had a first time too, remember.”
“Yes, but I wasn’t as green as this,” Peaseblossom retorts.
“Nor were you sixteen years old,” says Mr. Acton sharply. “Take your place. Now.”
Puck doesn’t really have any pas de deux sections, thank goodness, but there are a couple of small lifts. I’m trying to remember what Mr. Colson
said about hand placement, weight and balance, but the music isn’t giving me time, so in the end I just grab Peaseblossom and heft her up. It’s only a waist-high lift, not a biggie, and I think I’m pretty smooth, but all of a sudden Peaseblossom yelps.
“Let go of me!”
I practically drop her.
“You oaf! Bellamy, this isn’t going to work! Look what he’s done to me!” Peaseblossom pulls her top out of her tights, baring her waist. “Ten perfect bruises—on the very first lift! That’s a newbie mistake. Bellamy, he’s not ready!”
Well, thanks for all the support
, I feel like saying.
No way you’ve got ten bruises two seconds after I let go
. But I did forget to cup my hands. I know I didn’t do it right, but honestly, I’ve only had two classes on lifts! Give me a break.
By the end of the day I’m so tired I can hardly see straight, but Mr. Acton decides to let me go back into the regular rehearsal for some general practice. And I’m glad. I don’t want to worry about the choreography or the character or who’s going to be my next guinea pig. I just want to dance.
Finally, Mr. Acton says, “That will be enough for today, everyone. Thank you very much.”
As we pack up our stuff, I hear Peaseblossom and Titania talking quietly. “Yeah, but he’s a great mover,” says Titania.
I know what that means. You say somebody’s a great mover when they have natural talent, but it’s not trained. It’s an insult made to sound like praise. Trouble is, being a natural isn’t enough anymore.
After showering, I grab a sandwich from the cafeteria and take it into the rehearsal room with the
DVD
player. Not allowed, but I couldn’t care less. As I eat, I watch the
DVD
over and over. I promised them I would work all day and all night, and I will.
Rick’s exhausted and Mr. Acton’s frustrated. They say I’m trying too hard, but I don’t understand what they mean. How can you try too hard? The one thing I know for sure is that I hate dance. And this dance school. I’m seriously wishing I could wreck my ankle too.
Opening night is less than a week away. Maybe I could starve myself and drop from exhaustion. The fish sticks and mashed potatoes on my dinner tray look disgusting, but Mr. Acton says I have to eat, that I’m losing weight. I haven’t had time to go to the gym—I haven’t had time to do
anything
—but he says I have to make time to eat. But I can’t—it’s too gross. I push my tray away, grab my cell phone and head for the park.
“Hey, Mom,” I say.
“What’s wrong?”
How is it that moms always know? “Just tired.”
“I haven’t heard from you in ages, and that’s a sure sign you’re pushing yourself. You’ll be no good onstage if you’re exhausted, Robin.”
Yeah, but exhaustion isn’t what I’m worried about.
“After you phoned to say you were actually dancing, I called everybody in the family! We’ve all got tickets now. Aunt Sally, Uncle Harry, your cousins, Melissa—remember your old babysitter?—my friend Martha, her husband…”
Mom goes on and on. How do I break in and tell her I’m quitting? That I’m no good, that I can’t cut it as a dancer? That everybody hates me?
“Mom, hang on a minute, there’s something…”
“And we’ve all decided to book rooms at that swanky hotel near the theater, I can’t remember the name offhand. It’s expensive, but it’s not every day your boy has his debut, is it?”
“Mom, wait…”
“Do you know what your costume looks like? I’ve checked online, and you sure see a lot
of different costumes for Puck. Are they going for green? You’ve always looked good in green.”
I can’t do it.
“Yes, I have my costume. I think you’ll be surprised, Mom. In fact, I know you will.”
“Hmmm. That sounds ominous. Anyway, listen to me go on. What were you calling about?”
“Nothing, Mom. Just wanted to hear your voice.”
“Isn’t that sweet? I’m sending a hug your way, Robin. Now get to bed. You need to sleep. Pleasant dreams, and we’ll see you soon.”
Sleep. Sure. I head back to the boys’ change room. I should go to the company change room, but I don’t think I can stand anybody’s comments tonight, and the boys’ change room should be empty.
I pull on my warm-ups, but I don’t know if I can face more practice tonight. I’m done. I can’t even get up from the bench. Everything aches, mostly my heart. Dance is over for me.
All of a sudden the door opens and Jeremy and Cam burst in, talking a mile a minute.
Great.
They stop short when they see me.
“Why aren’t you in the company dressing room?” asks Jeremy.
“I didn’t feel like going there.”
“What, the company doesn’t think you’re such a hotshot now that you actually have to perform?” Jeremy says snidely.
“Maybe I’m sick of them.”
Cam looks a little shocked.
“You’re an idiot,” retorts Jeremy. “You’re the one who gets the big chance, and now you’re sick of it? I don’t think hotshots are allowed to be sick of it.
I never pegged you as the jealous type
. Remember that?
This is how the company guys do it
. Sweet. You were so smart, and now you’ve decided to give up because you’re
sick of them
? Dancers don’t give up—ever.”
“Proves I’m not a dancer, doesn’t it?” I shoot back.
“Hey, guys,” says Cam. “Chill.”
There is silence for a moment. “We have to practice for our final exam,” explains Cam, getting into his warm-ups. “It’s next week. I guess you won’t have to take it.”
“Doesn’t matter if I take it or not,” I say. “I’m leaving right after the show.”
“Leaving? What are you talking about?”
“Oh, come on,” I say. “It’s not like everybody doesn’t know I’m a washout. At least give me the courtesy, as ex-friends, not to pretend.”
“I don’t
believe
you,” Jeremy spits out.
“Yeah, well, believe it. You were right from the very first, so feel free to say,
I told you so
. I thought because they picked me, it meant I was ready, that they knew I was ready. They should have picked you instead.”
Jeremy gives a harsh laugh. “My mom sure thinks so,” he says. Then he sits down beside me. “This is a rough scene, isn’t it? Rough on you ’cause you got picked, rough on me ’cause I didn’t.”
“I heard your mom yelling at you,” I admit. “I didn’t mean to listen, but I was right there and couldn’t help it. She was pretty harsh.”
“Yeah, she gets like that. She wants me to be a star. I’m used to it.”
“I called my mom. She thinks I
am
a star. From the sounds of it, my entire hometown is coming for what she calls my ‘debut.’ So I think I can predict that my humiliation will be complete. I almost told her I was going to quit.” I sigh. “But I didn’t.”
Cam smiles. “I can picture it. Sometimes it’s hard to get a word in edgewise when your mom gets going.” Then he adds, “Which is a good thing, in this case. You can’t quit.”
“He’s right,” Jeremy says more seriously. “You know you can’t, don’t you? Not this close to opening.”
“Yeah, I know. Wishful thinking on my part. I won’t quit.”
“So you’ll just do your best,” offers Cam. “That’s all anybody can ask.”
“I don’t even know what my best is!” I start pacing back and forth. “Everybody keeps talking at me—do this, do that, try this, try that. I’m so confused, I couldn’t even tell you what I’m doing right and what I’m doing wrong! Mr. Acton told us today that the production was flat, that’s there’s no life, no energy. And it’s because of me! I can’t make it come together. Do I worry about the choreography, or my technique, or my acting, or whether or not I stay in character? I know for sure I can’t do it all, so what do I worry about most?”
“Whoa,” says Cam.
“Did Mr. Acton say you had to worry about all that?” asks Jeremy.
“Well, I have to get all those things right, so I guess I have to worry about them all, don’t I?”
“What do you do the worst?” asks Cam.
“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” I retort.
“Hey, man, you said it, not me. What’s hardest?”
“Everything.”
The three of us sit there. I don’t think they knew how bad it really is.
“Can we help?” asks Jeremy finally.
“Why would you? Apparently, I’m the guy to hate.”
“Only because you were being so obnoxious,” Jeremy says. “It was kind of a shock that any student got picked. You didn’t give us any time to adjust to the news, to understand why they picked you and not us. We would have figured it out. But no, right away it was ‘Let me teach you poor slobs all the wonderful things I know because I’m in the company and you’re not.’ ”
Cam cracks up at Jeremy’s singsong voice.
“I thought…” I sigh. “Whatever. Was I really that bad?”
Cam grins. “Oh yeah!”
“Make a guy feel better, why don’t you?” I groan. “I didn’t mean to. But I was so excited,
and nobody else was. All of a sudden I was the enemy. It’s harsh, losing all your friends at once.”
“Aw, we weren’t lost,” says Cam. “On tour, maybe.”
Jeremy snorts.
“Charis says we can’t ever really be friends because we have to compete against each other.”
“That’s stupid,” says Jer.
“It’s just her barbed wire,” adds Cam.
Jer and I stare at him. “Her what?”
“Her barbed wire. Odette’s always giving her a hard time, because Charis is the next-best dancer. So Charis has to protect herself, build a shield against Odette, you know? But whenever she’s feeling bad, she uses the barbed wire to protect herself from everybody.”
My jaw drops. So does Jeremy’s. “Thank you, Dr. Cam, for your psychoanalysis,” says Jer as he shakes his head. “You know, you are one weird dude.”
Cam grins.
There is silence in the change room. I keep pacing. Finally, Cam and Jer look at each other.
“You know what we’ve got to do, don’t you, Jer?” asks Cam.
“No choice,” replies Jeremy gravely.
“What?” I ask. “What have you got to do?”
But neither of them answer me. Instead, they leap up from the bench, dump my bag and grab a pair of tights from it, and before I know what’s hit me, they’ve tied me to the pole that’s holding up the ceiling of the change room. With my own tights.
“What the heck!” I shout.
“It’s time,” says Cam.
“For what?” I scream.
Jeremy smiles. “We need to stage an…”
“Intervention!” Cam and Jer high-five each other and run out of the change room, leaving me tied to the pole.
I can’t believe they’ve left me like this. I mean, it’s ridiculous. I’m busy trying to stretch the tights enough to slide my hands through the knots when the change-room door opens.
Great
.
