You're So Sweet

by Charis Marsh

  “Yeah.”

  “Tristan said you got a scholarship last year.”

  “Yeah.” Alexandra frowned as she opened up her thermos of green tea and sniffed it. “It was for contemporary, though.”

  “Still, that’s really cool.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Hey, want to hear something really weird?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Taylor just asked me if I wanted to homestay with her family.”

  Alexandra frowned over the steam from her Thermos. “Don’t do it,” she advised. “They’re nuts.”

  “So’s Mr. Yu.”

  “He’s a different kind of nuts. Trust me, you do not want to homestay with Taylor.”

  Julian nodded. The atrium was filling up around them, and he stood up, stretching out his backpack. “I’m going to get to class,” he said. “I want to try and get a good seat. I hate being stuck in the front or in the back.” Julian got up and left. Even though he had the same courses that he’d had last semester, they still felt better thanks to his break. Fresh new paper, new pens, and he had actually slept. He felt actually excited to take notes.

  By the time Julian got out of school, the clear cold sky of the morning had turned grey, and cold rain had started to drum down. He made his way to the bus stop, walking on the grass to avoid the humongous ice and water puddle that was usually sidewalk. “I’m sooo wet!” he called out to the others as he neared the bus stop.

  “Maybe not the best day to bring your skateboard?” Anna called back to him.

  “Hey, so I heard from Aiko that the Demidovskis have finally decided what ballet we’re doing for June show,” Alexandra interrupted, her teeth chattering.

  “You know what might help you warm up?” Delilah asked, shaking her head. “This.” She fixed Alexandra’s scarf so it was no longer purely decorative.

  “So, what did they decide?” asked Taylor, skipping from foot to foot as she tried to stay warm. The slush was now more like snow, and was no longer melting but sticking. The wind started to pick up.

  “Coppelia,” Anna answered before Alexandra could.

  “Well, I know what role I want,” said Delilah positively. They waited. “Dr. Coppélius, ob-vi-ous-ly,” said Delilah. They burst out laughing.

  “I can so see you with that cane, poisoning poor Franz.” Tristan laughed.

  “I am so not even ready to think about June show,” said Taylor. “Right now all I want to think about is YAGP.”

  “You’re going to compete?” asked Alexandra, staring at her.

  Taylor shrunk a little into her coat as everyone stared at her. “Yes. Mrs. Demidovski said I could,” she added defensively.

  “That’s cool,” Alexandra said expressionlessly. The others started sniggering.

  “The Demidovskis were okay with you going?” Tristan asked, disbelieving.

  Taylor blushed and muttered something unintelligible involving the words “thinking about,” “Mrs. Demidovski said,” and “my mother.”

  “I think,” said Angela virtuously, “that you should only do competitions when you are really ready for them. Otherwise, what is the point? That’s why I’m not going. But maybe next year, who knows, if I work hard enough?”

  Tristan mimed doing a laborious arabesque behind Angela’s back, reducing the rest to giggles.

  “Where is that bus?” Alexandra went into the middle of the street to see if she could see it coming. “Still can’t see it.”

  “Taylor,” Julian said quietly, coming up to her while the others were distracted by trying to tell if the bus was in service or not, “is that the competition you were talking about? For me to do with you?”

  Taylor nodded, looking surprised. “Of course. If you want to.”

  “Of course I want to,” Julian said. “But … are the Demidovskis okay with me doing this competition? I mean, it’s kind of a big deal, right?”

  “Yeah,” Taylor giggled. “I’m so excited.”

  “Yeah. Kind of scary,” Julian agreed.

  “Julian, how come you don’t want to live at our house?” Taylor asked. “I think it would be fun.”

  “Uh —” Julian stammered. “It’s not that I don’t want to live with you guys, I just already live with Mr. Yu. I think it would hurt his feelings if I moved out.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  Julian stood in front of the schedule, trying to figure out which teachers they had for class. Okay, so obviously LPY was Mr. Yu’s initials, as usual, but one of the slots just had an asterisk instead of a name. Who was it? Was that the academy staff’s way of saying that they had no idea who was teaching today? “Tris, who’s the asterix?”

  “Obelix’s best friend,” said Tristan solemnly.

  Julian stared at him blankly.

  “You never read those comics?” Tristan exclaimed. “That sucks. But, seriously,” he continued in a quieter voice, putting a hand on Julian’s shoulder and steering him down the hallway and thus hopefully out of earshot of the academy office “that means Mr. Demidovski’s teaching today. He always gets an asterisk, we’re not sure if it is because he’s terrified that the parents will realize he still teaches occasionally and will force him to teach their kids or if he’s just hopelessly vain and wants to feel important.”

  “Awesome,” said Julian. “I didn’t know he even taught still.”

  Tristan grinned. “He teaches what he wants to teach, and who he wants to teach. I hate to say it, but he’s kind of awesome.” They went downstairs to get changed.

  As they were stretching before class, everyone was completely buzzed about both the first day back and a class with Mr. Demidovski. There were small groups spread out over the room, stretching and gossiping, with Delilah skipping from group to group to make sure she didn’t miss anything.

  “Is his class hard?” Julian asked as he pushed Tristan’s leg up to his head.

  Tristan let his leg fall down and then collapsed to the ground. “Uh … depends? His class is sort of hard to describe. It’s always random. Hey, do you think you could stretch my feet? Thanks. Er, I don’t think you are strong enough to stretch them with your hands, do you think you could stand on them? Thanks … ow! No, that’s good.”

  There was a sudden hush as Mr. Demidovski walked in. Holding a walking stick for emphasis, he paused in the doorway to survey his students. “Ah bea-u-tiful day, yes?” he asked, beaming around. There was flurry of smiling and nodding, and everyone hurried to find their place at the barre, shedding their warm-ups as they went. Mr. Demidovski went and sat down in the chair being offered to him by Gabriel, the academy’s office-person-in-charge-of-everything. He waited patiently until they had arranged themselves to their satisfaction, his hands clasped in front of him in a vaguely prayer-like position.

  “Facing the barre,” he said softly, the whole class ten times quieter than usual as they listened to him. “And one … and breathe. Port de bras out … and around … not too far, Tristan, hold your back … and straighten. Rise … plie … straighten and down. You,” he gestured at Taylor, “do not force the feet over, keep strong.”

  As Mr. Demidovski gave the exercise, Julian watched his face. Tristan was right, he was very cool. He could no longer show them the exercises, but from the way he tilted his head, to the lines he showed them with his hands, Julian could tell what a great dancer Mr. Demidovski must have been. Julian worked harder in that simple barre than he had all year, he realized when they’d only finished a ronds de jambe exercise, and he was dripping with sweat.

  But the end of the barre, Julian felt bit annoyed with Mr. Demidovski, and guilty for feeling like that. Mr. Demidovski was old; he had much more important things to think of than Julian. But still … all year Julian had gotten far more than his share of corrections from all the teachers, and it hurt to be ignored by the one teacher whom he felt mattered the most. He had not gotten one single correction, or even any indication that Mr. Demidovski was watching him, despite the fact that he was standing right behind
Tristan, who appeared to be one of Mr. Demidovski’s favourites. He chugged some of his water, and then it was time for centre work.

  “You, my dear, you come here,” Mr. Demidovski said, pointing at Taylor and placing her in the front line, left. “Anna …” he pointed her to the middle, “and Trist-in,” placing him on the right.

  Julian sighed. It was actually perfectly logical. After all, he was new to the academy. If Mr. Demidovski didn’t even remember Taylor’s name, why would he notice Julian?

  “Back, Kaitlyn … Alexandra … Grace … and Kageki.” Mr. Demidovski finished, leaning back in his chair again with a sigh of satisfaction. Kageki’s face lit up with a huge grin as he quickly bounded to take his place. Mr. Demidovski began giving them the exercise, and then the first group began to perform the exercise with music.

  As the first group danced full out, the dancers on the side marked the exercise with only their arms and their feet, staying in one spot as they made sure they knew the exercise and understood the timing. As the exercise drew to an end, the dancers who were picked for the second group stopped marking and got ready to take their positions in the centre of the studio. Julian kept marking, but not carefully, and rather pointlessly; if he had been asked to perform the exercise solo, he wouldn’t have known the first movement. He was too wrapped up in his thoughts. The boys always go in the last group, anyway, what’s this all about? Does he have to be so obvious about who he likes best? Julian accidentally hit Jonathon in the face, and, taking this as a sign, gave up on marking the exercise. Instead he slipped between the barre and the wall and leaned on the barre, pretending to study the second group’s work. Julian wondered if Tristan and Kageki were on scholarship, too; he’d never asked and just assumed that they weren’t. Finally the first group was done, and Julian stood at attention, ready to be called. He looked intently at Mr. Demidovski, willing the man to notice him. Instead Mr. Demidovski began correcting Anna.

  “You must … use the music, feel the music,” he explained. “Your arms, they must be like the butterfly, flying over the water — here, rotate.” Mr. Demidovski got up to move Anna’s arms in the right way, running his long thin hands over her back as he moved her muscles. “The back, here must hold, here must open — and give. You must always be giving the heart, the love to the audience. Yes, Anna, this! You must always do the work this way.”

  Julian attempted to look fascinated, along with the rest of the class. He giggled — Angela was leaning as far forward as possible without falling forward, her mouth hanging open and her eyes popped, as she stared at Mr. Demidovski. As soon as Mr. Demidovski finished speaking, she began to try and replicate Anna’s movements while staring in the mirror. She was unsuccessful. Mr. Demidovski’s eye drifted over her, and Julian distinctly saw him wince before he hurriedly turned back to his selected group.

  “You — this — come here, please; Mr. Demidovski wishes to speak to you.” Mr. Demidovski said, gesturing impatiently in Julian’s direction. Julian’s stomach gave a lurch, and he half-rose out of his slouch against the wall before he realized that Mr. Demidovski was actually talking to Taylor. He rested against the wall again, annoyed with himself, and wondering if anyone had noticed his mistake. He looked around, trying to look casual; no, they were all intently concentrated on Mr. Demidovski’s words as he corrected Taylor. Julian wondered if he could get away with just sitting down since he wasn’t dancing anyway. Better not risk it. Almost everyone else seemed to be working on Taylor’s correction along with Taylor.

  “… you have the beautiful body, the beautiful hair, body suit, now you must make it the beautiful dance,” Mr. Demidovski was explaining as he made Taylor repeatedly develope a la seconde. “No hip! Mr. Demidovski said no hip, no clunk, must be very smooth like ice cream. You must listen to Mr. Demidovski.”

  Taylor’s face was flushed with effort as she tried one more time, slowly drawing her foot up her leg and unfolding her working leg. She managed to bring her leg to its full extension without her usual hip shift, and shyly smiled in relief.

  “Yes, this is the way you must work. The other way, it is cheap. That way you are maybe sold at the dollar store. Here this is maybe the Bay, Sears — you must work to be the one of a kind, an original, people pay much money for you. Understand?” Taylor nodded throughout Mr. Demidovski’s speech, and as soon as he was done she went quickly back into her position, smiling happily.

  Julian looked at the clock; they were almost halfway through the class, and still only the first group had received any attention at all. Mr. Demidovski hadn’t even changed groups yet, and Julian was getting cold from doing nothing after barre — now even if Mr. Demidovski did call on him he wouldn’t be warmed up. The others were all marking it on the side, but there wasn’t really enough room for Julian to work, he decided after a second’s glance around. He felt — he didn’t exactly know how he felt. Sad? Disappointed? Seriously, picking Kageki over me? Kageki is good and stuff, but he’s seriously short, and he doesn’t have as good a body type as I do.

  “Julian!” hissed Jessica, elbowing him in the back. Julian came back to his surroundings with a start — Mr. Demidovski was frowning at him, and the whole class was staring at him. Julian smiled at Mr. Demidovski, slightly embarrassed, and quickly untangled himself from the barre, managing to knock over someone’s water bottle in the process.

  “You must pay attention during class time,” said Mr. Demidovski, no longer bothering to look at Julian. “Otherwise you waste your classmates’ time, you waste the teacher’s time, you waste your time, and you waste your parents’ time and money.” Julian felt his face turn bright red.

  Mr. Demidovski continued, and Julian spent the rest of the class in a miserable blur. Why was I so stupid? Now I’m probably never going to get a correction from Mr. Demidovski. What if he takes away my scholarship because he thinks I’m not working hard enough? At last it was the end of first class. “What do we have for second class today?” Julian asked Tristan as the girls put on their pointe shoes.

  “Pas de deux class with Mr. Yu? Like we always do on Wednesdays?” answered Tristan, grinning at him. “Dude, I swear, you are so spacey sometimes.” He went off to practise his pirouettes and talk to Alexandra.

  Julian shrugged and dropped to the floor, stretching his turn-out with his face pressed to the floor so he didn’t have to look at anybody. The floor actually felt pretty good on his hot face, as long as he didn’t think about all the sweat it was covered in from the Youth Company, who had just been in rehearsing their contemporary piece.

  Mr. Yu came in with a huge scowl on his face, and everyone immediately went quiet. They eyed him warily. He strode to the front of the class, and stood there for a second. “Mrs. Demidovski,” he announced with a heavy sigh, “would like to watch you today. So be good.” He went to the side and dragged a chair from the side of the room to the front, and banged it down beside his chair. He eyed the space between the chairs for a second with his head cocked to one side, and then pushed the two chairs carefully farther apart, to the giggles of his students. Then he went and carefully escorted Mrs. Demidovski in, his face pained.

  “Tallest to shortest, girls’ line front, boys’ line back,” said Mr. Yu with impatience. “Quickly, quickly!” They assembled in seconds, already having their places memorized. “Tristan, take Anna, take Grace, take … Alexandra.”

  Julian was next in height, and he tensed, hoping he got partnered with good people to make up for last class.

  “Julian — take Taylor …”

  Taylor gave Julian a huge grin as she joined him, and he smiled back at her a second late as he waited for Mr. Yu to assign him more partners. But Mr. Yu just moved on to the other boys, giving them all three partners, even little Michael, and giving Tristan and Kageki each one more partner when he realized he was going to have two girls left over.

  “Yay! Now we get lots of practice together.” Taylor grabbed Julian’s arm and led him to a clear place on the floor.

  Julia
n looked over to where Tristan was practising a promenade in attitude with Anna. “Why do you think he only gave me one partner? I mean, I’m totally cool with it, but it is a little weird, right? Look at Kageki and Tristan’s partners — they’re barely going to get to work at all.”

  Taylor shrugged innocently, looking like a six-year-old as she brought her hands and shoulders up to her ears. “I don’t know. Maybe he wants you to have a chance to really concentrate? Oh, shh, look at Mr. Yu now.”

  As Mr. Yu went through the exercise, Taylor and Julian marked it, with Taylor murmuring directions to Julian. As the class ran through the exercise a couple times without music to rehearse, Mr. Yu walked through the class, barking and hitting corrections. “Anna, hold your back. Jonathon, you laugh one more time, outta my class. Out.” Thwack. “Keiko, hold your belly! You are some old grandmother? You have many, many children?” Thwack. Taylor winced and adjusted her attitude position. “You a dog? You have to go pee?” Mr. Yu asked her, peering into her face.

  “No,” Taylor squeaked, trying to hold her balance. She wiggled Julian’s arm, and he looked at her, confused. Taylor fell off pointe.

  “You are partnering,” Mr. Yu lectured her. “This is not solo dance, this is pas de deux. If you want to leave, practise solo, let me know — I am sure there is nice studio upstairs, empty, you can practise all by yourself.” Mr. Yu walked off.

  “What did he mean by that?” Julian asked Taylor.

  To Julian’s surprise, Taylor glared at him. She looked like she was about to cry. Stepping back on pointe, she gave him her hand again. “When you stand too close — like this — I have to lean back and then I fall over. And when we turn, you have to move with me — otherwise I tilt, or can’t move, or fall over. Okay?”

  “Okaay,” said Julian, drawing out the sound. “I’ve got it, I’ll try — we’re both learning here, okay?”

  They worked on the combination in silence for a few moments. After a bit Taylor was still falling over, but she smiled at him when they finished, so he supposed she’d probably forgiven him. Having only one partner should have meant that Julian had more time not working than the other boys, but Taylor made Julian go over each exercise with her on the side until their turn, and after. By the time the class was almost over, Julian was more exhausted than he usually was from working with three partners. Finally it was the end, and after bowing to Taylor and Mr. Yu, and Mrs. Demidovski, and George, Julian grabbed his water bottle and prepared to flee.