Showtime! (8 page)

“Look at all those awesome rides!” Gracie gushed as they pulled into Hershey Park. “Oooh! I can smell chocolate. Can you smell it, Scoot? Can we go on the rides? Please, Scoot? Pretty please?”

Scarlett didn't know why she agreed to sit next to Gracie the entire three-hour ride to Hershey Park. Maybe it was because she gave her those big brown, puppy-dog eyes.

“Don't you want to sit with Mom?” Scarlett suggested.

“No! I want to sit with the team,” she insisted. “I'm a Diva. Oh yeah!”

She sang her own made-up tunes for the first forty-five minutes, then insisted on playing a game of Uno. At one point, the bus came to a quick stop, and the cards went flying everywhere.

“Cool!” Gracie giggled, tossing the rest of the deck in the air.

“Really?” Liberty complained, picking a draw 4 card out of her lap. “Your little sis is a lot of fun,
Scoot
.”

Scarlett was relieved when they finally got off the bus and she could focus on the competition. Gracie was too busy shaking hands with a giant Reese's Peanut Butter Cup character to bug her. Once they checked into the Hotel Hershey, there was barely any time to unpack before Toni scheduled a rehearsal.

“But I wanna go on the chocolate factory tour!” Gracie moped. “Why do we always have to rehearse? It's so boring!”

“Gracie, you wanted to be part of the team,” her mom explained. “That means being a team player. You do what everyone else does.”

“Besides,” Scarlett pointed out, “the competition is over tonight. We can go on the factory tour tomorrow morning.”

“Promise?” Gracie pouted. “I want to buy one of those jumbo chocolate Kisses. I'm gonna eat the whole thing.”

“I'm sure you will!” Her mom laughed. “Maybe you can save me
one
bite?”

Gracie smiled. “Well, maybe one. And one for you, too, Scoot.”

“Thanks,” Scarlett said. But chocolate was the last thing on her mind. All she could think of was winning.

“Let's go practice, Gracie,” she said, taking her sister by the hand. “Don't forget your Dance Divas jacket!”

“Oh yeah!” Gracie said, pulling on the black satin jacket and admiring the gold logo on the back in a mirror. “I look cooooool!”

“The coolest!” Scarlett said. “Now hurry . . . please!”

When they arrived for rehearsal, Bria, Liberty, and Rochelle were already there, with their ears pressed against the meeting-room wall.

“What are you guys doing?” Scarlett asked.

“What does it look like we're doing?” said Liberty, hushing her. “We're eavesdropping on the competition. Those City Feet freaks are rehearsing, too.”

“Their music is really slow and soft. Sounds like lyrical to me,” Rochelle said.

“Let me hear!” Gracie said, pushing in between them. “What are they saying?”

“Something about ‘bag' and ‘over'?” Bria said, straining to make out the words.

Miss Toni walked into the room. “Vaganova. It's a Russian ballet technique. What are you girls up to?”

“City Feet is next door, and we're spying on them!” Gracie volunteered.

“No, you are not.” Toni sniffed. “Because that is bad sportsmanship.”

“But if we knew that they were planning, we could make our routine better than theirs,”
Rochelle said. “Why shouldn't we do everything we can to win?”

“Because we're Divas. And we're going to win this competition on our own merits. Not by knowing someone else's routine. So step away from the wall and hit the floor. Now.”

Scarlett knew Miss Toni was right. But she still wished she knew what the City Feet team was planning for their group number. Was it contemporary? Jazz? Lyrical? What did their costumes look like?

“I have an idea how we can find out what they're planning,” Liberty whispered to Scarlett. “Are you with me?”

She nodded.

“Then bring Grace Face and meet me outside in five.”

Liberty raised her hand to get Miss Toni's attention. “I forgot my jazz shoes upstairs. Sorry! Be right back!” she said, dashing out the door.

Miss Toni rolled her eyes. “All right, unless there are any other interruptions, I want to take it from the top—”

“Gracie needs to go to the bathroom. I'll take her,” said Scarlett.

“No, I don't—” Gracie started to say, but Scarlett covered her mouth with her hand. “Now, Gracie, what did Mom say about holding it in for too long? We don't want a puddle on the floor, do we?” She dragged her little sister into the hall, winking.

“I don't have to go!” Gracie screamed once they were outside.

“I know! But don't you want to help Liberty and me on a top-secret spy mission?”

“Really?” Gracie beamed. “Cool!”

Liberty was already waiting for them at the door to City Feet's meeting room. “Okay, Gracie. Here's the plan. You go on in the room and pretend you made a mistake. Say, ‘Sorry! I thought this was my room.' They don't know you're with us yet. They'll just think you're a little kid who got lost. Take a good look around and report back everything you see and hear. Got it?”

Gracie nodded. “Got it!”

Scarlett and Liberty crossed their fingers as Gracie slowly opened the door. The dancers were all gathered in a circle around a girl in
pointe
shoes. They were wrapping her in a long white scarf, swaying back and forth as she twirled in the center.

“Excuse me?” Justine said, spotting Gracie. “Are you looking for someone?”

“Yes! I mean, no!” Gracie replied. “I, um, I got lost. I'm not supposed to be here. Bye!”

She ran out of the room and down the hall to where Liberty and Scarlett were waiting.

“Okay . . . what did you see?” Liberty demanded.

“Ghosts!” Gracie panted. “Spooky ghosts.”

Scarlett groaned. “Come on, Gracie. Stop joking around. What were they doing?”

“I'm not making it up! There were ghosts all around this one ballerina. She was really, really good.”

“So they were doing a ballet routine about ghosts?” Liberty asked. “This makes no sense!”

“You're sure, Gracie?” Scarlett asked her.

“Cross my heart!” she said. “I saw ghosts.”

During their break, they shared what they learned with Rochelle and Bria.

“Okay, let me search for it: a ghost ballet,” Bria said, typing fast and furiously on her phone's keyboard. “I got it! I got it! They're doing
Giselle
!”

She showed the girls a video from a website of a beautiful ballerina, dressed all in white, dancing eerily on a grave.

“
Eww
, that is really creepy,” Rochelle said, and shuddered.

“That's it.” Gracie nodded. “That's what she looked like.”

“It's classic ballet. It didn't seem like ballet was their thing,” said Liberty.

“How many girls were there?” Rochelle asked Gracie.

“Um, well, five in the circle, and the ballerina in the middle.”

“There were only five girls last week,” Bria said, “and there are only five names listed on their elite-team website. Who's the ballerina in the middle?”

Scarlett shook her head. “It's worse than we thought. They have a secret weapon!”

“So you're saying that City Feet has a new dancer?” Rochelle asked.

“Well, she wasn't there last week, was she?” Liberty replied. “I wonder what they're up to.”

“We're not going to find out standing around here,” Scarlett said. “But I bet I know someone who might blab all the details.”

“Who?” Bria asked.

Liberty, Rochelle, and Scarlett all answered at once: “Mandy!”

It wasn't difficult to find Mandy roaming the halls of the hotel. They waited until her mom went into the gift shop to corner her.

“Hi ya, Mandy,” Liberty said.

“What do you want?” Mandy asked, unshaken.

“I just wanted to tell you that we're going to kick your butts tonight,” Liberty said.

“Oh yeah? In your dreams!” Mandy shot back.

“We know all about the ballerina . . . and the ghosts,” Scarlett added.

“How did you find out?” Mandy gasped. “That's a secret! No one is supposed to know about Anya!”

Scarlett looked at Liberty and shrugged. “Well, we know all about her,” Liberty improvised. “You're not as smart as you think you are!”

Mandy shrieked, “I am so telling Miss Justine on you guys! And Mr. and Mrs. Bazarov!” She stamped off in a huff.

Bria began searching the name Anya Bazarov immediately. “All I can find is something about her competing in Los Angeles last year. She was a member of the Shooting Starz Studio team,” she reported.

“How did she do?” Scarlett asked.

Bria swallowed hard. “First overall in the Teen
Solos twice. She seems like a pretty serious ballerina.”

“That's it. We're toast again!” Rochelle sighed. “Now we have Anya Bizarre-o to worry about, too.”

“Wait! It says she competed in the Teen division—which is twelve and up,” Bria said, scanning the article. “And that was last year. So how is she dancing as a
Junior
with them? In Juniors, you can't be older than eleven.”

“Bria, you're a genius!” Scarlett hugged her. “She's too old. City Feet must be lying about her age.”

They ran to find Toni to tell her what they'd discovered.

“I told you girls, no spying on the competition!” she scolded.

“But Miss Toni,” Scarlett pleaded. “Anya is doing a
Junior
Solo and she's thirteen. They're cheating.”

“And so are you . . . by sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. I'm surprised at you, Scarlett. I expect more of you.”

Toni turned to face the rest of the team. “I don't want to hear another word about this. Change into your costumes, get out there, and dance your best. Stop worrying about other teams and worry about yourselves.”

She stormed off in a huff. Scarlett felt terrible. Miss Toni had never spoken to her that way before. She felt like she'd let Miss Toni down—and all she was trying to do was help.

In the dressing room, Scarlett found her mom sewing lollipops last-minute onto Gracie's costume.

“Miss Toni is mad at me,” she told her.

“We heard—Gracie told us what happened. Spying on them wasn't right,” her mother said.

“But we found out some really important stuff. Stuff that could disqualify their team from the competition.”

Her mother looked up from her work. “And that's what you want? To win because they had to forfeit? That doesn't sound like a very satisfying win to me.”

Scarlett hated when her mother was right. It made her feel guilty.

But there was nothing to be done about it now. The group dances were starting, and City Feet was up first.

Bria was correct: their number was a modern take on
Giselle
. The girls were all ghosts dancing in a cemetery. Anya Bazarov was everything the article said: a “beautifully poised ballerina.” And Mandy was every bit as impressive as she had been at City Lights. Only now her face was painted a ghostly white and her hair was sprinkled with baby powder.