Let's Rock! (2 page)

The girls watched as he pierced two potatoes with forks and pretended to do a “table ballet.”

“That is so funny!” Gracie giggled. “I like him!”

“Good!” Toni said. “Because you are all going to play him in our group routine. I call it ‘Listen Up.'”

Anya raised her hand. “I thought you said Charlie Chaplin made silent films. How can you listen if there's nothing to listen to?”

“You speak with your body—Chaplin always did,” Toni explained. “Every movement means something.” She motioned for Bria to stand up. “Come. Let me show you.”

Bria stood up nervously. Miss Toni always made her jittery when she asked her to demonstrate.

“Bria,” she instructed, “walk like this.” She hit a button on the DVD player, and Charlie Chaplin showed up again, waddling around, twirling his cane in the air. “Turn your feet out. Wider! Now shuffle.”

Bria tried to do as Toni said, but she felt stiff and awkward. Her teacher tossed her a black bowler hat and a wicker cane. “This might help.” Then she handed her a costume: a pair of baggy pants and a suit jacket.

“The character Charlie played is called ‘the Little Tramp,'” Toni added. “He doesn't have a lot of money, and he bumbles along through life.”

Liberty glanced at Rochelle. “Sound like anyone you know, Rock?”

“But he has a heart of gold,” Toni continued, “and he always tries to behave like a gentleman.” She turned to Bria. “I know that's a lot to take in, but I think you're a good actress. I think you can connect with this character.”

Bria looked at herself in the studio mirrors.
She looked ridiculous! The jacket was way too small—the buttons were popping open—and the pants were huge. “Oh! Almost forgot!” Toni said. She brought out an oversize pair of men's shoes. “Put these on.”

“How am I supposed to dance in those?” Bria whined.

“Chaplin did.” Toni helped her into the clown-like loafers. “Now walk,” she commanded.

Bria stepped forward, trying to mimic the moves she had seen on the DVD. “Bob your head side to side, shoulders back, chin up,” Toni barked. “Keep the legs stiff. Think of a penguin, but with more flair and musicality.”

Slowly, Briana began to walk. She tipped her hat, twirled her cane, and pointed her feet out to the sides.

“Wow! Bri, that is amazing!” Scarlett said. “You got it!”

“I second that,” Toni said. “And that's how I want to see you all do it. The music is going to be a simple piano tune—fast, then slow, then fast
again. The facial gestures have to be larger than life. And I'm going to project a silent film on a giant screen behind you while a strobe light flashes so you'll look like you're moving in slow motion.”

Liberty's hand went up. “And are there going to be any solos in the competition? Just askin'.”

“As if,” Rochelle muttered under her breath. “Just askin' to have one!”

Toni tapped her ballet shoe on the floor. “I have given that some thought,” she said. “There'll be two solos, a duet, and our showstopping group routine.”

She walked over to Scarlett and handed her a blond wig. “You'll be Marilyn Monroe in a number called ‘Breakable.'”

“Hey!” Liberty protested. “I have
naturally
blond hair! And I'm naturally glamorous! Why can't I be Marilyn?”

Toni walked over and presented her with a cowboy hat.

“What's this?” Liberty asked. She didn't look thrilled.

“You and Bria are doing a country-inspired acro routine.”

Liberty fumed. “Seriously? She gets to be Marilyn and I get to be … home on the range?”

“Where the deer and the antelope play,” Bria pointed out, giggling.

Miss Toni continued: “And Rochelle. I don't have a costume for you, yet.”

“Why? You're not gonna wrap me in toilet paper or tin foil or something weird like that?” she asked nervously. She would never forget the time Toni dressed her up like a hot dog and made her dance a contemporary routine to “Who Let the Dogs Out?”

“No—but thanks for the idea! I'll take it into consideration.” Toni smirked. “You're going to play a kid arriving in Hollywood, hoping to see her name in lights one day. I call the number ‘Rising Star,' and it has hip-hop in it. So you can say, ‘Thank you, Miss Toni.'”

“Awesome!” Rochelle cheered. “I mean, thanks, Miss Toni!” Her teacher knew hip-hop was her favorite style of dance, which was probably why she rarely let Rochelle perform it in a competition. She believed in challenging the Divas and pushing them out of their comfort zones.

“So that should be all for today,” Toni said. “I want everyone here on time tomorrow, ready to work. This is going to be a tough competition. Not only are the best dance teams in California competing, but I hear City Feet is making the trip as well.”

“Oh my gooshness,” Gracie exclaimed. “Not again!”

Bria agreed with her. The very mention of their name made her skin crawl. No matter how many times the Divas beat them (and they had many times), just being in the same auditorium with those girls—Mandy, Regan, Phoebe, and Addison—set them
all
on edge.

“Never mind City Feet,” Toni warned them. “Just worry about yourselves. And remember what
Chaplin said: ‘You'll never find a rainbow if you're looking down.'”

She left the girls to gather their bags. “We might not find a rainbow, but we'll find City Feet,” Rochelle said. “If there's one thing they like to do, it's to play down and dirty.”

When Bria showed up to rehearse her duet with Liberty on Tuesday night, she never expected to see her partner dressed like a rhinestone cowboy.

“Whaddaya think?” Liberty said, modeling a gold sequin vest and shorts over a white leotard. “Taylor Swift's costume designer made it for me.” She plopped a gold sequin cowboy hat on her head and tied on a white satin mask. “Too much? You think I should lose the mask?”

Bria was speechless. “No, I think the mask is fine … It's the rest of the outfit I'm worried about.”

Miss Toni walked in the studio and dropped her clipboard. Her mouth hung open. “What in heaven's name are you dressed for? Halloween?” she boomed. “This is supposed to be set in the Old West. Not Las Vegas!”

“I just thought …,” Liberty started to explain.

“Don't think. Just change. Now!”

As Liberty ran to the dressing room, Bria stared at the clock on the wall. It was already 6:00 p.m., and she had a ton of homework and a science quiz tomorrow.

“Am I keeping you?” Toni asked.

Bria shook her head. “No, Miss Toni. I just have a lot of studying to do.”

Toni perched on her stool. “Your mom tells me you're an excellent student, Bria,” she said. “So why are you worried?”

Bria sighed. What she wanted to tell her dance coach was how much pressure she felt in her family to do well. Her dad was a journalist, and her sister was a genius. That left her to keep
up—which she barely managed to do with fifteen hours a week of dance class and rehearsals. Her mom insisted she maintain a B+ average or she couldn't be a Diva. She
really
wanted Miss Toni to understand what she went through, day after day.

Instead, she simply answered, “I'm okay.”

Finally, Liberty returned, dressed in a simple black leotard and cowboy boots.

“Much better,” Toni commented. “No costume designers. I'll be providing your look for this duet.”

Liberty rolled her eyes. If it was an “Old West” style, then it was bound to be sequin-less.

Miss Toni hit a button on her MP3 player and a song boomed over the speaker. “This is a high-energy routine,” she told them. “I want the moves strong and staccato. I want to see a clean barrel jump, Liberty. And Bria, watch those arms in the axle turn. They've been looking like linguini!”

At the end of the routine, they were both supposed to climb into their saddles mounted in the
middle of the stage and yell, “Hi-ho, Silver! Away!” For now, they swung their legs over a chair back.

“We're lucky she didn't make us ride a mechanical bull,” Liberty whispered to Bria.

“I heard that!” Toni shouted. Her back was turned, and the music was blaring, but she never missed a comment—especially a snarky one. “And thank you for the wonderful idea, Liberty. I do think we should have the saddles move up and down—as if you're riding into the sunset on your trusty steeds.”

“But I was kidding!” Liberty exclaimed. “And what's a steed?”

“A horse,” Bria replied. She wondered if Liberty ever used her head.

“Well, I'm not kidding,” Toni said. “It's an extra surprise that the judges will never see coming.”

“It's an added surprise I didn't see coming,” Bria said, elbowing her duet partner. “Thanks a lot, Liberty!”

Liberty crossed her hands over her chest. “Look, it's not my fault. I wanted this routine to be glam, not grunge. I was even having my costume designer make you something.”

“Thanks,” Bria said. “I think.”

Toni waved her hand in the air. “Enough! You're dismissed. I've had enough horsing around for today.”

“How'd it go?” Scarlett asked Liberty and Bria as they flopped down on benches in the dressing room.

“You mean how
didn't
it go?” Liberty said grumpily. “Toni totally shot down my couture cowboy costume.”

“But she did approve your idea for the rocking horses,” Bria complained. “Did I mention I have no idea how to ride a horse?”

“A horse? Seriously?” Scarlett chuckled. “How are we gonna fit that in the overhead on our flight to L.A.?”

“Not a real horse—a mechanical one. That goes up and down,” Bria said. “Did I also mention I get motion sickness, Liberty?”

“She does,” Scarlett said, nodding. “Trust me. I sat next to her on the Tilt-A-Whirl at the spring carnival and it was not pretty.”

“Just thinking about it makes me queasy,” Bria said, sighing.

“Oh, stop complaining,” Liberty said. “The horse is the least of our problems. Our costumes are going to be totally drab and probably covered in dust and tumbleweeds.”

Scarlett tucked her hair under a glamorous blond wig. “How do I look?”

Liberty frowned. “That just makes me feel worse. I hate this duet! I hate Miss Toni! The Marilyn Monroe solo should have been mine.”

“Gee, someone's in a bad mood. That's more like it,” Rochelle said, striding into the dressing room. “I feel so much better when Liberty is miserable.”

“For your information, I am not
miserable
,”
she insisted. “Actually, when I think about it, I'm thrilled. I spoke to my mom this morning and she says I'm a shoo-in for the spotlight dancer in the Sugar Dolls' video.”

“Aw, that's so nice of your mommy to give you the lead,” Rochelle replied. “It must be nice to be a spoiled brat who gets whatever she wants.”

“And it must be nice to be talentless
and
clueless,” Liberty shot back.

“Divas! Divas!” Scarlett stepped in to referee. “Can we focus on the positive here? We're all going to Hollywood! We're all going to be in a pop video.”

Liberty shot Rochelle a nasty look. “Not if I can help it. I'm calling my mom right now.” She stormed out of the room.

“You think she's bluffing?” Bria asked Rochelle.

“Don't know, don't care.” Rochelle shrugged. “When I'm a pro dancer, I'm gonna be cast in a ton of music videos. I don't need Liberty Montgomery to do me any favors.”

“But, Rock, I want you to be in the video with
us,” Scarlett said. “We're a team. It wouldn't be any fun without you.”

“Just say you're sorry for calling her a spoiled brat,” Bria suggested.

“But she
is
a spoiled brat,” Rochelle said.

“Rock, please?” Scarlett pleaded. “For me?”