Two to Tango (9 page)

“If you want my advice . . .,” Rochelle began.

“Yes! Please!” Anya pleaded. “I don't want to make a complete fool out of myself in front of City Feet—not to mention the entire audience!”

Rochelle knew Toni hated when anyone changed her choreography, but she had appointed her assistant dance coach, hadn't she? “Lose the veil over your face and drape it down your back instead, so it flies out behind you as you do your
tour jetés
. And carry the jug on your shoulder . . . but just for your entrance. When you're done with your dance, you can pick it up again and bow to the audience—like you're a servant, bowing before the Indian Royal Court. It'll be very dramatic.”

“Thank you!” Anya said, hugging her. “That's so much better.”

Gracie also had an issue with her solo. Miss Toni had rigged the pancakes on the stove to flip up in the air just as she did her backflip.

“It's stuck,” Gracie said. “I keep hitting the button, but they just keep sitting there.”

“I'll take care of it,” Rochelle assured her. “It's probably a short circuit in the trigger.”

Last but not least, Hayden had a problem with his umbrella. “Toni wants it to fly out of my hand on an invisible wire,” he said, demonstrating. The umbrella was supposed to float above his head while he did his routine. Instead, it levitated a few inches off the ground and stayed there.

“I think it just needs a little boost. The umbrella's probably too heavy. I'll look into it,” Rochelle promised.

By the five-minutes-to-curtain call, she thought she had fixed all the Divas' dilemmas. She was sure Miss Toni would be proud of her handling everything so calmly and efficiently.
Who knows
, Rochelle pondered,
maybe she'll even make me her permanent assistant.

The announcer welcomed the crowd and announced the first competitor in the Petite Solo category. “Please give a round of applause for
Mandy doing an acro routine to ‘Red, Red Robin'!”

Mandy burst onto the gym floor in a series of tumbles, twists, and flips. She flapped her arms and wiggled the red feathers sewn to the backside of her costume. She chirped, whistled, and made cute, pouty faces at the judges.

“Ugh, this dance is for the birds!” Liberty groaned, watching from the sidelines. “Gracie, your routine is so much better than this! Gracie?”

Everyone suddenly realized Gracie was nowhere to be found. “Maybe she went to the bathroom?” Scarlett suggested. “I'll go check!”

“I'll check the locker room,” Bria said.

“Liberty and I will check the vending machines,” said Anya. “Maybe she got hungry and went for a snack.”

Rochelle looked at the lineup listed in the program. “She's the third dancer up in Petite Solo—we don't have a lot of time! Find her! Fast!”

“I have a hunch where she may be,” Hayden said. “Give me a sec.”

“Where?” Rochelle asked. She was frantic. If Gracie missed her cue, Toni would punish them all, starting with her assistant.

Hayden walked outside the gym and found what he was looking for: the broom closet. He slowly opened the door and peered inside. There, seated on the floor among the mops and buckets, was Gracie.

“Hey, you,” Hayden said gently. “You found my special hiding place.”

“Your hiding place? This is my hiding place,” she insisted.

“Nuh-uh,” Hayden insisted. “I've been hiding in broom closets for about seven years. Nobody ever thinks to look in here, you know.”

“Except you,” Gracie pointed out. “Are you gonna make me go back out there?”

Hayden shook his head. “Nope. Not if you don't want to go beat Mandy. I totally understand.”

Gracie bit her nails. “Well, I wanna beat Mandy. But I'm not sure I can.”

“I'm sure you can't beat her sitting in here,”
Hayden said. “There's nothing to be scared of, you know. There's not even a stage—just a gym floor. And you're used to tumbling on those all the time, right?”

Gracie mulled it over. “It's not a stage, is it?”

“Nope, just a big ol' gym with bleachers. No sweat. I'm not even nervous about going up against City Feet.”

“You're not? How come?” Gracie asked.

“Because feet always stink,” he joked, waving his toes in her face. “Am I right or am I right?”

“
Eww!
” Gracie said, giggling and holding her nose.

He stood up and offered Gracie his hand. “You coming? I'm kind of starving. So when you're done with your dance, can you save me a pancake—with ketchup, please?”

“Next up in the Petite Solo division, we have Gracie doing an acro routine to ‘Cooking by the Book'!” Rochelle's heart was pounding as the
announcer called Gracie's name. She saw Toni's face in the audience. She looked livid.

“Do we have Gracie? Is she in the gym?” the announcer said, trying again. “Last call for Gracie . . .”

“Here!” said a small voice. Gracie appeared at the door of the gym holding Hayden's hand. Rochelle was relieved to see she didn't look scared at all. She was smiling and waving at the audience.

“Quick! Get into your costume!” Rochelle said, tying Gracie's apron over her red leotard and securing her chef's hat with a few bobby pins. The littlest Diva took her place onstage just as the music started to play.

She saw Toni making her way over from the bleachers.

“What happened?” she demanded. “Divas don't miss their cues.”

“No biggie,” Hayden said, trying to assure her. “Gracie just got a little lost in the hallway.”

She gave Rochelle her iciest look. “It's your job
to make sure everything goes according to plan. You wanted to be my assistant.”

“I know . . . I'm trying!” Rochelle said. “There are just so many little details.”

“Welcome to my world,” Toni said. “If you can't take the heat, then get out of the kitchen.”

Rochelle crossed her fingers that Gracie would get through her routine without any further drama. Each of her flips was flawless, and the judges smiled as she did a spider walk around the gym floor. Finally, it was time for the big finale: her backflip timed to the pancake flip. She hit the button on the stove and the pancakes catapulted into the air. Thank goodness! Rochelle breathed a sigh of relief. Then she watched in horror as one climbed higher and higher till it landed—
KERSPLAT!
—right on the bald head of one of the judges! The entire gym roared with laughter.

Gracie looked startled; Rochelle prayed she
wouldn't burst into tears. Instead, she cracked up as well. Luckily, the judge was a good sport. He pulled the pancake off his head and took a bite.

“That was a delicious routine,” the announcer joked as Gracie skipped back to the sidelines.

“I did it! I did it!” she squealed.

“You sure did!” Scarlett said, hugging her little sister. “I'm so proud of you, Gracie!”

“Me, too.” Hayden smiled, high-fiving her. “Nice job. You showed that Mandy who's boss.”

Rochelle saw Mandy standing with her team on the opposite side of the gym. She didn't look happy.
One down
, she thought,
a few more to go.

Junior Solos were up next. City Feet's Regan did a bold Broadway-style dance number from
Anything Goes
, dressed in a sailor hat and blue sparkly leotard.

“Her
arabesques
are pretty impressive,” Scarlett whispered to Rochelle.

“You're way more talented than she is,” Rochelle assured her. “Just wait till I get this boot off. She's no competition for either of us.”

The Teen Solos were next, with Addison
leading the pack. She strolled onstage dressed in a black dress, pearl necklace, and sunglasses. She was Audrey Hepburn's character in
Breakfast at Tiffany's,
and she did a sad, haunting ballet to “Moon River.”

“Wow,” Bria said, watching from the wings. “She's really amazing.”

“She's not bad,” Liberty said with a sniff. “Where do you suppose Justine stole her from?”

As she walked back to the wings, Addison purposely bumped into Rochelle, knocking one of her crutches out from under her.

“Watch it!” Rochelle yelled, trying to steady herself.

“Sorry,” Addison replied. “I forgot we had a little old lady limping around backstage. It's just not safe for you here. Maybe you should go home and take a nap.”

Rochelle gritted her teeth. “The only ones going home are you guys . . . empty-handed,” she said. “Because the Divas are going to win every title today.”

Addison laughed in her face. “I don't think so. Especially when ‘Rock' here needs a rocking chair.”

“It's not nice to make fun of Rock,” Gracie spoke up. “She's hurt.”

Addison patted her on the head. “Maybe you could both go and take a nap. Babies need a lot of sleep.”

“I am not a baby!” Gracie screamed.

Hayden saw what was happening and rushed to Rochelle's side.

“Is there a problem?” he asked calmly.

“She's being mean to me and Rock,” Gracie said, pointing an accusing finger at Addison.

“Aw, I forgot you had a bodyguard to fight your battles for you, Rochelle.” Addison smirked.

“I don't need anyone to fight my battles,” Rochelle countered. She hoped that didn't hurt Hayden's feelings, but she was not going to let this girl push her around, crutches or no crutches.

“She's right. I'm not fighting anyone's battles,” Hayden interrupted. “I'm just sharing a little advice.”

“Advice?” Addison laughed. “What advice could
you
possibly give me? I've been competing my whole life.”

Hayden ignored her bragging. “ ‘I do not try to dance better than anyone else. I only try to dance better than myself,' ” he said.

Addison looked at him, puzzled.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It's a quote from Mikhail Baryshnikov, one of the greatest dancers of all time,” Hayden answered.

“Hayden is really smart,” Gracie whispered to Rochelle.

“It means you should stop picking on the Divas and worry about your own dancing,” he said. “Because trust me . . . you need to worry. I just heard Justine saying that was the sloppiest
chaîné
she'd ever seen.”

Addison looked petrified. She scanned the bleachers for her dance coach. “Did she really say that? Or are you making it up?”

Hayden grinned. He waved to no one in the bleachers. “Hey, Justine! Over here! I found Addison for you.”

Addison took off without another nasty word.

“Hayden is our hero!” Gracie exclaimed.

“I second that. Thanks for stomping on those Feet,” Rochelle added.

“You're welcome,” Hayden replied. “No one picks on us Divas.”

Anya was up next—and she was more than a little nervous to be up against her former City Feet teammates.