No One's Watching (26 page)

“You could've asked.” She drew her hand back to her face.

“I was afraid to. That didn't mean I didn't care. Are we okay then?” Six years was a long time to hold a grudge. “I admire you. You work so hard. You're so tough.”

“Leave me alone.” Shelly rested her forehead on her hands along the back of the chair. The bumps on her spine poked from her neck as her ponytail draped to one side.

I reached a hand toward her shoulder.

“Don't.” She shrank into the chair. “Just go.”

I tucked my hands in my pockets and moved away. Then I hesitated. If I said I was sorry again, would it matter? Would she ever forgive me?

I slipped out of the room and into the hall. A game show blared on the TV. Why would Shelly carry such a huge secret with her all this time? Her shame transferred to me with every step.

By the time I found Mrs. Ricardo in the lounge, I could barely lift the cell phone from my pocket.

“Thanks.” I laid it in her palm.

“Is everything okay?” She sat straighter, her face alarmed.

Two more weights had been dumped on my head. Grandma — Mom hadn't sounded too convincing about Grandma's health. And poor Shelly — hating me after something idiotic thing I did when I was eight. And now I had to pull off Irish dance as a romantic ballet, which, technically, was my idea. “Sure. Everything's fine.”

I dragged myself to the elevator, changed clothes in our room and went to the studio downstairs for Irish dance rehearsal. I was way early. The empty studio magnified every breath I took, and guilt filled every corner.

Blake startled me when he slid down the wall next to me as I tied my
ghillies
. “You okay?”

“Sure.” I didn't want him to think every time he saw me I was having drama issues.

“What did Mrs. Ricardo want?” He tied the black laces on his jazz shoe.

Blake's shoulder skimmed mine as he reached for another shoe.

I sighed. “She let me use her cell phone to call my mom. My grandma had her surgery today.”

“Right. How'd it go?”

I blinked. “Okay.” I bent my head to untie the stringy laces on my left shoe digging into my foot.

“Good.” He nodded. “Have you seen Shelly?”

I jerked my head up. “Why?”

“Jupiter and Amy are looking for her. You sure you're all right?”

Hadn't Blake sympathized with Shelly after she made nasty comments to me on the bus to the park? He'd said she'd gone through a lot. What did he know about her and how much? So far, not so much he'd dump me. Although I deserved it. I couldn't imagine the constant torture my big mouth caused Shelly.

As I tightened the lace, it snapped. I held it away from my face like it was a baby snake.

Blake took the black string from me. “I was in Boy Scouts for a while. Let me tie a knot for you.”

I pulled my shoe off, and he twisted the ends together. I needed to concentrate on something else for now. I'd try to make it up to Shelly, but Blake and the girls counted on me. I couldn't bear to disappoint any more people. I shoved the images of Mom and Grandma out of my mind.

“Boy Scouts?” I pictured a younger Blake decked out in a blue uniform. “Is that how you got into ballet? Was there a badge for dance?” I was totally serious.

Blake dropped my shoe and laughed. “No. My mom brought me along when she took my sister to ballet. Everyone had fun in her class and got to jump around. I joined the class. My sister dropped out while I stayed.” He tested the knot and handed my shoe back.

“Thanks.” I wiggled the shoe on my foot. “Is it hard for you? Do boys at school treat you differently?”

“A few guys act like jerks, but I think they're jealous. I get to be around tons of pretty girls and in partnering class the teacher insists I hold them. What's a guy to do?” He curled his arm around my waist and addressed my ear. “How about you? Did you run around in tutus when you were little?”

I fiddled with my earring. “My mom and grandmother have a studio. They were both dancers.”

“Sweet. Maybe I could come over and take class with you.” He leaned closer, his eyes peeping under his fringe of hair.

My jaw relaxed, and I dissolved.

Then Megan and Lindy erupted into the studio.

“Break it up. We have a lot of work to do. And I mean a lot.” Megan dropped her dance bag.

Blake and I sprang apart. Lindy blushed.

“We have a guest teacher for this evening.” Megan announced. “I suggest you go to the
barre
and warm up.”

Blake and I stood and waited for Megan to pop a CD into the player. How much longer would we have to obey this miniature tyrant? Mr. Sean's comment this morning about his most devoted student had gone to her head.

After a short, but intense, warm-up, we moved to the center of the room. Megan frowned and stared at the door. “They should be here by now.”

They? I tipped my head. Soft, sweet flute music played somewhere down the hall. Unless I was dreaming. If I were asleep, a fiddle, a drum, and a harmonica were in my dreams, too.

Mr. Sean, fingering the flute, led a parade of musicians into the studio. He introduced us to the musicians playing all the instruments I had heard. A girl carried the
bodhrán
drum, the size of a large tambourine. One guy played a small accordion called a concertina.

Mr. Sean waited until we finished clapping. “You might as well get used to dancing to live music.” We helped them move the piano bench and dragged in extra chairs. He introduced his friends. All of them were originally from Ireland. This was beyond cool.

“I want to work on your solos and duet.” Mr. Sean's eyes sparkled.

Solos?
I could deal with that. Blake and I glanced at each other. This was getting better and better.

“When the curtain goes up, you'll be in the pose I set this morning. Blake and Kit, assume your places in the back of the room.”

We bumped into each other hurrying to the back wall.

Lindy raised her hand. “Do you want Megan and me to get in our places, too?”

“Sure.”

Lindy went down on her knee to my left while Megan crouched in front of us.

Mr. Sean swept his hands to the ceiling. “As the curtain goes up…” He nodded at the musicians. They played the music we heard on the CD that morning. “Right here.” He stopped them playing. “Before the
corps
dances, Kit, you go off stage. Step together, step hop. Not bouncing. Smooth.” He demonstrated.

I danced off stage.

“Blake, watch her leave as if she were the loveliest thing you'd ever seen.”

We laughed.

“Not hard to fake.” Blake folded his arms across his chest.

I was sure I turned three shades of red.

“Try it again. Blake, let your arm, the one you had around Kit's waist, float to your side. As if reluctant to let her go.”

Blake tilted his head as his arm drifted down. His view was off. As I glanced in the mirror, Shelly's long, dark ponytail flicked out of view as she disappeared from the doorway. Was she checking on me or checking out Blake?

“Nice. Now, Kit, look at him sweetly as you leave.”

I was confused. Wasn't Shelly ever going to forgive me? I was a professional. Sort of. I was glad Shelly wasn't the only one to practice dramatic faces in the mirror. I arranged “sweet” on my face — eyebrows slightly raised, lips hinting at a smile.

“Good.”

After we practiced it with the music, Mr. Sean waved his hands. “Lindy and Megan, move to your last positions you learned this morning.”

They hurried to where all the girls had formed a curve at the back of the room. Mr. Sean taught Blake his solo, full of leaps where he suspended himself in the air like he was attached to cords. It was so cool.

As Blake rounded the “stage” where I waited in the wings, he offered his arm and brought me back to the center. This was our duet. I forgot about Shelly as we moved to watch Mr. Sean and Colleen, the girl with the drum, demonstrate what would be our dance.

We followed behind them so we could copy. The duet was totally sick. Lovely high, controlled kicks, rocks from one foot to the other, even a lift where I tapped my feet together a thousand times as Blake lifted me in the air. Lifts weren't strictly done in Irish dance, according to Mr. Sean, but this was a time for stretching the boundaries — about music, in dance, with Blake.

Would Mom understand, or would my boundaries snap?

On Saturday, Candace and I slept late and spent the rest of the day watching TV with Danilo and Blake. You'd think all that lolling around conserved our energy. Wrong.

Sunday afternoon, Megan and Lindy rehearsed us for two hours straight. No breaks. Mr. Sean hadn't even taught me my little solo or the short coda with the whole group ending the piece. I almost ran into Shelly as I left, her narrow back and dark hair vanishing into another studio to rehearse her solo. That was close.

Veins on my achy feet bulged like blue snakes. When I got back to the room, I flopped on my bed and slept for twenty minutes. I was blissful, saturated, and complete. My rumbling stomach woke me. I sat up and groped for my sandals on the floor so I could find Candace and get something to eat.

I checked under my bed and in the closet. Nothing.

Candace came into the room. “Hey, sleepy head. Ready for an early supper?”

“Sure. As soon as I find my sandals. Have you seen them?”

“You weren't wearing them when you got back. I thought that was strange, but you fell asleep so fast, I didn't have a chance to ask you.” Candace picked up her meal card from her bureau.

I smoothed my ruffled hair. “I'll go down to the studio and meet you in the cafeteria.”

“Okay. Don't forget to bring your boyfriend.” She tucked her card in a pocket and brushed her hair. “Danilo and I will save you guys seats.”

I padded down the hall in my bare feet. Blake had kissed me in the studio again at the end of rehearsal after the girls left, and I was oblivious to everything. That's why I had forgotten my sandals. I covered my giggling mouth all the way down the hall.

As I punched the elevator button, Dira joined me. “Hi. What's so funny?”

“Just in a good mood.”

The elevator dinged, and we got on. I pressed the bottom floor button. Dira pressed nine.

“Where are you headed?” I asked her.

“The directors' hall. Ballet soloists are getting fitted for costumes.”

My heart twanged for a second, then I thought of Blake and relaxed. “How's
Cerrito's Variation
going?”

“Good. Mrs. Sykes is rehearsing me, and she's actually pretty nice.” Dira leaned against the elevator's back wall. “Do you like Irish dance better now you've had it for a couple of weeks?”

I breathed deeply. “I like it a lot.” Liked it? I loved it. Seriously. My smile lifted my heart.

“It's a good fit?” The elevator shushed to a stop on the ninth floor.

I held out my bare foot. “Like Cinderella.”

When the elevator opened its doors on the bottom floor, all kinds of classical music poured into the hallway. I passed a studio where Olivia, who was dancing the Sugar Plum Fairy, practiced with other older students in a makeshift class.

The studio we used for Irish dance rehearsal was empty. I strolled in, recreating the opening scene in our piece, where Blake and I stood arm in arm. I drew my finger along the
barre
inhaling his cologne and the memory of his kiss. Sure, I'd been kissed before. If you counted Connor kissing me in seventh grade at a dance. We were slow dancing, and it seemed the thing to do. Awkward. Not like Blake's kiss.

I tripped over my sandals.

As I tucked my feet into them, I heard super loud laughing. It wasn't from Olivia's group but came from the direction of Shelly's studio at the far end. I was glad she felt better enough after our blowout to have fun. Was Amy with her? If Shelly were in a good mood, maybe she'd finally forgiven me. I padded down the hall and peeked in the studio.

Why were the lights out? My lower jaw fell to my chest. Tears dampened my eyes. This wasn't happening. Shelly wasn't through torturing me.

And Blake had decided to join her.

Shelly's ponytail dangled to her waist as she wrapped her arms so tightly around Blake in the far corner behind the piano I figured their mouths had fused. I wasn't sticking around to watch and got out before anyone saw me.

I gasped and hiccupped at the same time as I stumbled down the hall toward the elevator. It was already waiting for me, as if it knew I needed it. Like Cinderella's pumpkin coach. I stepped inside and beat my fists on my head. How could I have been so stupid to think the cutest boy at camp could be interested in me and only me? I was only glad he hadn't seen the shock on my face.

I doubled over, dizzy and sick. I dug my fingernails into my palms so I wouldn't cry. The doors opened on the main floor and a flood of kids got in. I couldn't breathe. When my floor came up, I pushed myself out of the elevator and rushed down the hall.

Once in my room, I collapsed on my bed and sobbed.
For once, can something good happen? Just once. That's all I asked.

After a while, I realized I wasn't alone. Nicki stood by Candace's bureau watching me, her forehead pushed up like a startled doll's.

“I heard you all the way through the bathroom door.” She grabbed a handful of tissues and thrust them at me. “What happened?”

I took the tissues and honked into them. “I'm fine.”

She sat next to me. “You don't look fine.”

My shoulders slumped. “I'll be okay.”

“Boy trouble?”

I stared at the floor and swallowed a sob. I coughed so I could breathe again.