Authors: Sandy Green
I dreaded opening it in case she knew about the Irish dance duet and the drop to Ballet II. Instead, I toyed with the glued flap until it tore. I stuck my finger in the hole I'd made and ripped it open.
“Dear Kit,
“I miss you and have tried to stay busy.
“Grandma helped me frame some of the recital and Nutcracker photos, and we'll display them in the dressing room. I can't wait for you to see the one of you as the Sugar Plum Fairy! You already look like a soloist in a ballet company. Shelly is darling as Clara â so young and delicate.”
The letter drifted to my lap. We had to hire a
danseur
from a studio in the next town seeing as none of the male dancers at Mom's studio were tall enough to partner me. Trigger. Yes. His real name. Kind of cool. Even though I was tall, I was easy to partner. I'd used my jumping ability to help him lift me. He told me partnering Shelly was like dragging dead weight around the stage.
Oh, but she got a ballet solo here at camp. Not that I was jealous. Or bitter. Just puny over it.
I picked up the letter and kept reading.
“Grandma's leg is still giving her a little trouble. We're looking forward to seeing your performance when we come to pick you up.”
Sliding to the floor, I stretched my legs in a straddle. I was glad to be alone. My stomach gurgled.
I scanned the letter, frowning. Why had Mom said Grandma's leg bothered her? Grandma told me she was fine.
I read the rest of Mom's letter.
Blah, blah, blah, blah. Eat. Sleep. Write. Stretch.
“Love, Mom”
A week and a half to make it happen. My ballet solo. Could I do it? What would happen if I didn't? A wave of heat forced itself up my neck, and I used the letter as a fan.
I'd almost missed it. The P.S. on the other side of Mom's letter.
“P.S. If they don't make a DVD of the performance to buy, we'll bring our camera.”
A DVD. Great. Sweat dampened my face. My failure with Blake would be immortalized.
Focus.
I still had a chance to prove what I could do in the repertory class. I had to get a ballet solo.
As I stuffed the letters into their envelopes and dropped them on my nightstand, Candace burst into the room, her face beaming. “You'll never guess what we planned.” She flopped on her bed. “Are you ready for an extreme adventure this weekend?”
Her explosion made me forget my problems for a moment. I pulled a short, multi-tiered skirt over my leotards and tights. “Extreme? As in white water rafting on snowboards?”
Candace laughed. “Think. What do dancers do for fun?”
“Dance?” I liked to go to parties and dance. Or school dances. Dancing was fun. When it wasn't an obligation.
She sighed. “We like to eat. Sweet stuff. Nicki and Dira are going to take us to a great ice cream parlor Friday night. They went last year.”
“An ice cream parlor? Seriously? How do we sneak out?” My stomach gurgled again. Hadn't Mrs. Sykes mentioned something about being caught outside was grounds for immediate dismissal? I shivered.
“Leave it to them. They have all the details.”
Our dorm rooms, dance studios, cafeteria, even the college bookstore were in the same building. It was weird living in a climate-controlled bubble with an elevator. Last year, in middle school, my science teacher talked about a bio-dome in England. I was sure it was like our dance camp, only without the dance and with a lot more vegetation. In a strange way, here at camp, I kind of missed breathing car exhaust and feeling sunshine on my arms.
“It'll be great. We can walk around and look at some of the shops.” Candace clapped. “We have until Friday night to figure out what to wear when we go out with Nicki and Dira.”
In my case, it wouldn't include Dira's hat. I pulled up the blinds on our only window. Grime clung to the outside glass, making the whole world one desolate place.
We weren't supposed to go outside without a chaperone from camp. All I needed was to get into trouble and have Mrs. Ricardo, or worse, Mrs. Sykes, call my house.
I wasn't going to worry about going out or what I'd wear during Mme. Petrova's class. My job was to give her my full attention.
We got to our Ballet II class early that afternoon. I stood at the
barre
, brushing off cracker crumbs clinging to my leotard from the saltines Candace brought back. I nodded at Blake as he came into the studio, smiling at all the girls. He didn't fool me with his impartial friendliness for everyone. I was nothing special to him. He told Danilo, in a nice way, to move up so he could stand in front of me.
“Okay, man.” Danilo shoved his dance bag farther along the wall.
Blake slid his dance bag under the
barre
and swung around to face me. “We're all on for tonight, right?”
Smiling sweetly, I raised my eyebrows. “Of course.” I had completely forgotten about the extra Irish dance rehearsal. “Seven-thirty?”
I willed myself not to melt as Blake flashed a dazzling smile. Mme. Petrova tapped her way into the room.
Blake's gaze followed her. “She's one of the best teachers I've ever had.”
“What a nice thing to say.”
Blake narrowed his eyes, obviously confused at my cool attitude. He must be used to girls falling all over him whenever he appears. Mme. Petrova eased into the chair in front of the mirrors.
“First position, class.
Pliés
.”
It was a great class. Sure, I was still sore from two days ago. When Mme. Petrova gave us small jumps with beats, my feet did double beats. When she told us to do single turns, I did doubles. When we did doubles, I did triples. I was going to show I didn't belong in this class, and I was serious about improving my technique.
At the end of class, Mme. Petrova came over to me. “Dahling, you work so hard.”
I blushed. I was getting noticed. My hope skyrocketed. Maybe Mme. Petrova would have a word with Mrs. Ricardo.
Should I ask her?
“I'm happy you're doing so well.” She patted my shoulder. “But the other students, who are not as advanced, watch you. And you confuse them when you do extra beats and turns. Please, for this class, just do what I tell the class to do.”
Ugh.
Amy stomped out the door. Her scent lingered. All the ugliness of the day returned. Was I better than the rest of the Ballet II class, or was Mme. Petrova being nice when she said I should follow along with the rest of the class because I wasn't any better? The reason Candace and I were given when we dropped to her class was due to a scheduling conflict.
“No problem.” I gave her a practiced-in-the-mirror smile.
She patted me and hobbled off. I mopped my face with my towel and jammed it in my bag. Everything would work out. I'd make it work out.
Candace chatted with Danilo, who was shuffling his feet in place. Maybe he had a thing for Shelly since he did everything she wanted him to do, like getting her bag at the hot tub.
I needed a shower.
“See you later.” Blake grabbed his bag.
Jupiter, with his red hair flopped over his ears, waited for him by the door. He must've come from rehearsal because the new girl, who was his partner for the
Don Quixote
pas de deux
, hung around his elbow. They moved down the hall and stopped.
Danilo hurried away as Candace met up with me. She nodded at Danilo's back. “He sure is a nervous guy.”
“Maybe he likes you.” I pinched her arm.
She giggled and nodded toward Blake and Jupiter. “What's up with them?”
Blake slapped Jupiter on his back. Jupiter held out a plastic bag of cereal or oatmeal for Blake to examine. The new girl shook out her hair.
We edged closer as the new girl passed us. She couldn't take her eyes off the boys.
Her curved apostrophe-shaped legs gave her a gorgeous line when she stood on one leg in
arabesque
. Unfortunately, she had a banana-shaped nose, which ruined her profile. “What's the new girl's name?”
Candace frowned. “Olivia?”
“She's dancing the Sugar Plum fairy. Besides, Olivia was here last year.”
“TiffâTiffany.” Candace snapped her fingers.
“Right.”
Tiffany's long dark hair and slim back disappeared into the elevator.
“Man, I can't believe you did it.” Blake peered in the bag.
Candace and I crept along the wall.
Jupiter stuffed the bag in a pocket of his athletic bag. “Yeah, I had to get in and out of the kitchen before the next shift came to fix dinner.”
“How'd you know where to look?”
Jupiter shrugged. “I didn't. I just kept opening plastic containers until I found it.”
“That's insane. You're lucky you didn't get caught. They'd throw you out of here for sure. The kitchen's off limits. Are you sure it'll work?”
“Yes. Then she'll be so grateful.” Jupiter elbowed Blake.
Blake shook his head. “Dude, you're brilliant. Crazy, but brilliant.”
Jupiter noticed me over Blake's shoulder. “Yo. You want to see something that will save you from the wrath of Shelly?”
I flinched. What did Jupiter find in the kitchen that could keep Shelly from hating me? A magical toaster?
“Sure.” I moved closer. “Can't wait to hear. I'm forever in trouble with her.”
“Yeah. Why?” Blake frowned. “She's so nice, but she's always mad at you.”
She's nice to you, Blake, 'cause you're a guy. What are you? Stupid? No, you're nice.
And if I stayed in Labanotation class, I could've learned from Amy why she hated me and then I could tell you. I shook my head.
“She's mad at everyone, if you haven't noticed.” Candace moved away from Jupiter.
Actually, she's mad at everyone I'm friends with. Except Blake.
Jupiter showed me a bag of kernels he took out of his athletic bag.
“What's that?” I leaned forward to examine it.
“Raw rice.”
“Are you on some kind of new diet?” Candace screwed up her face.
He laughed and then became serious. “I'm going to use it to dry out Shelly's cell phone that Kit dropped in the hot tub.”
“I didn't do it on purpose.” I glanced at Blake, hoping he believed me.
“How will you do it?” Candace seemed impressed. “Are you sure it'll work?”
“No fear. It's worked before. My dad dropped his cell phone in a glass of soda. Get this, right afterwards, he dunked it in fresh water to wash it off, took the battery and SIM card out and kept everything in a bowl of rice for a day. The rice absorbs all the water.” Jupiter tapped his temple twice with his finger.
Absorbs ALL the water?
My mouth dried up like I'd stuffed raw rice in it for a couple of hours. “I thought you were kidding when you told Shelly you could fix it. Does it work?”
“Of course. My dad read about it in a scientific journal, and we tried it.”
“Cool.” I laughed like an asthmatic horse. “Great. You have to tell me immediately if you fix it. In fact, tell me before you tell Shelly so I can give it back to her.”
“Not sure about that.” Jupiter wiggled his eyebrows at Blake.
“He's counting on Shelly to be grateful.” Blake tried not to smile. “He wants to give it to her.”
I stared at Jupiter and blinked. “You're not serious.”
He frowned. “Yeah. Why?”
My eyes roamed the floor.
Come on, Candace. Now would be a good time to bail me out.
I glanced at her.
“Shelly likes someone.” Candace was a mind reader. “In the computer camp.”
“She does?” Jupiter and I asked together.
I nodded. “I mean. She sure does. Whoa. Like big time. Always had a thing for those quiet types.”
“Sorry, Jupiter.” Candace reached for his arm. “Not that you're not cute and everything.” She pulled back her hand and brightened from pink to crimson in two seconds.
“You think I'm cute?” He leered at her.
I glanced at Blake who had opened the bag and was examining a few kernels.
Candace backed away.
“It was our time we spent in the hot tub, wasn't it?” He drew closer to her.
“What went on in the hot tub?” Blake sounded like Mom would have. Eww.
“Nothing.” I pulled my shoulders up. “We talked. I dropped Shelly's cell phone in the water. I mean, it slipped into the water. She screamed, and we all left.”
“Sounds like a blast.” Blake handed the bag back to Jupiter.
I toyed with the idea of knocking into Blake and spilling the rice on the floor, but it sounded like there was plenty more in the kitchen.
Candace practically bent over backward away from Jupiter. She grabbed my arm. “Gotta go. Good luck with the phone.”
“Later.” I nodded at Blake, and Candace and I fled toward the elevator.
All the other dancers had left. We were lucky to be alone in the elevator.
“That was close.” Candace ran her hand over her forehead.
“You mean Shelly's cell getting fixed?”
Candace leaned against the railing. “I mean Jupiter. He's cute and all but a little too sure of himself.”
Was he an awful kisser too? Maybe Nicki had that answer. I scrunched my face.
“Was class too much for you? How do you feel? You're not skipping supper, are you?”
“I'm fine.” I chewed my thumbnail.
“What are you going to do about Jupiter's invention to dry out Shelly's cell phone?”
“Hope it doesn't work?” I needed to do more than hope. Sneak inside his room and steal it? Not something I wanted to do. I fiddled with the strap of my dance bag, twisting it so much it cut into my neck.
If my life depended on remembering what I did when we got back to our room and what I had for dinner a few minutes ago, I'd be dead. I didn't even know how long I was curled up on my bed afterward. I must've slathered something else with ketchup because there was another red blot on my shirt.