Shimmy

by Kari Jones

  “Eleven?” asks Sam.

  Dana nods.

  “But I thought you were only choosing ten of us,” Robin says.

  “What? Of course not! Why would I do that? Good gracious, where did that idea come from?”

  We all look at Eve, who turns a little pale and says, “Patricia from your Monday-night class said that.”

  “And you believed her? My goodness, how mean you must all think I am. I’m hurt that you would think that,” Dana says. Her whole body droops in a very un-dancer-like way.

  “No one’s getting cut?” Eve asks.

  Dana shakes her head. “No one. The performance is only a couple of days away. I’d never make a change like that this close.”

  “What about Bea then?” Robin asks.

  Dana takes a big breath. “Bea is a good dancer, but she decided not to continue. It was her choice, though I blame myself for not encouraging her more.”

  “So we’re all dancing together next week?” Alex asks.

  “All together,” Dana says.

  The room erupts into laughter and yelps and hugs. Robin engulfs me in a huge bear hug, and Alex jumps on top of us so the three of us sway in a heap. I squeeze Robin and Alex back, and then the three of us clasp Sam and even Eve, though no one ever thought she’d be cut. She bear-hugs me back.

  Alex and Sam start a polka across the room. Dana presses her remote so we have music, and soon we’re all dancing freestyle, even Dana. She dances up to each of us in turn, and when she comes to me, she takes my hand and twirls me so we’re back to back, and we do left-to-right undulations in opposition to each other. She winks as she heads over to Alex. All the tension that’s been in the room ever since Bea left is gone, and we’re all still laughing and busting out dance moves as we leave the studio.

  We stand together waiting for our buses home. As the number seven pulls up and we climb on, Alex says, “That was the most fun class Dana’s ever had.”

  “It was like one of Amala’s classes,” I say. “We’re always breaking out in random acts of dancing.”

  We.

  “You loved dancing with her, didn’t you?” Alex says.

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “More than Dana?” she asks.

  But I don’t know how to answer. I shrug and make my way to the back of the bus. When we reach my stop, I wave goodbye and walk down the street by myself. Everyone on the bus was so happy that we’re all going to be dancing together. Everyone except me. Knowing that Dana wasn’t being hard on me because she wanted to cut me from the troupe makes the whole thing a lot more difficult. Maybe I should stay with Dana. It’s not as much fun, not by a long shot. She was hard on us today, really hard, but I’ve learned a lot from her. She’s taught me how to use my muscles properly, how to hear the timing of the music with precision and how to focus my mind. She makes me sweat, but it’s worth it…isn’t it?

  Now that Dana’s not going to make that decision for me, I’m going to have to make it myself.

  Seventeen

  Last class before the festival, and we’re all in our costumes. Eve looks spectacular, as we knew she would. I’m feeling uncomfort- able with my sequin-and-lace-covered bra, but Mom helped me sew it and make sure it’s secure. I’ll get used to it.

  “Again,” says Dana, and she starts the music.

  I can’t get my head into it today, and already I’ve noticed Eve glaring at me, and when Dana stops the music and says, “Lila, posture,” Eve rolls her eyes and breaks formation. She heads to the back of the room and picks up her water bottle.

  “Sorry,” I say to the class in general.

  “The festival performance is in three days, Lila,” Eve says when I reach past her for my water bottle.

  “I know.”

  “So what are you doing?”

  “Nerves, I guess. I’ll get a good night’s sleep. I’ll be fine—don’t worry.” My voice comes out sounding more annoyed than I intended it to.

  “Yeah, well, I am worried,” Eve says. “We’re meant to be acting like professionals, not falling apart.”

  “I thought we were supposed to be having fun,” I say.

  Eve shakes her head. “Well, that’s where you’re mistaken. This is my moment to shine, and I don’t want you messing it up. You’re a good dancer, Lila. Pull it together.” She swigs her water and marches back to the center of the room.

  I stand, stunned, where I am. Wow. I feel like she slapped me in the face.

  “Let’s go again, girls. We only have a couple more minutes before my next class starts. Let’s try to get through in one run this time,” Dana says.

  I concentrate hard and make it through the dance without messing up. When the music ends, Dana says, “Well done, girls. I’ve worked you hard for the past few weeks, and I know it’s been tough on some of you”—she glances at me—“but you look fantastic. Truly. You’re going to stun the audience. So on Saturday, eat well in the morning, relax, and I’ll see you at the theater an hour before curtain.”

  I still feel slapped as I put on my shoes, and when Robin asks me if I want to go to her house to run through the song a couple more times, I shake my head. I’m not sure what will happen if I open my mouth and try to speak, so I don’t.

  “You okay, Lila?” Robin asks.

  Though my voice is shaky, I say, “Eve told me I need to pull it together. She doesn’t want me messing things up for her tomorrow.”

  Robin leans across our bags and hugs me. “Ignore Eve. She’s the one who’s totally stressed out. She has no right to say that to you.”

  “Thanks, Robin,” I say.

  She keeps her arm around me as we walk out the door and onto the street. Alex joins us on the street, and the three of us get onto the bus. We’re all pretty tired out from today’s practice, so we’re quiet as we ride along. When my stop comes, Robin says, “Sure you don’t want to come over for more practice?”

  “Yeah. I’m sure,” I say.

  There’s only one thing I want to do, and that’s talk to Angela.

  * * *

  Angela’s mom answers the door. “Lila, what happened?” she asks. “Angela was so upset when she came back from your house the other day. She hasn’t been herself ever since.”

  “I know,” I say to my feet.

  She wipes her hands on a tea towel and says, “I’ll go see if she wants to talk to you.”

  From the hallway I can hear Angela’s mom knocking and calling out, “Angela, Lila’s here.” I can’t catch Angela’s response, but her bedroom door opens, and Angela’s mom walks inside the room, closing the door behind her. I lean into the hallway and try to breathe normally. I think I was about five the last time I had to wait here.

  “Hi,” Angela says a few minutes later when she comes down the stairs. She stands on the bottom step with her arms folded.

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  She doesn’t move.

  “I’m not better than you. Dana’s not better than Amala,” I say.

  She shifts, so I add, “And the truth is, I’m confused about what I want. That’s why I was being so mean. Because I was upset.”

  “I talked to Nini before I said I’d go to Mexico with Jonas’s family,” Angela says, still without unfolding her arms. “She was upset, but she said she understood.”

  “Okay.” I still don’t understand how she can go away instead of dancing in the festival, but I don’t say that.

  “And I talked to Amala too.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said
you never can tell where your heart is going to take you, and that I should definitely follow my heart.”

  I take a step toward her and say, “But you love dancing. You’ve always loved dancing.”

  “But not performing. I’ve never liked performing. You know that, Lila.”

  “So you’re not giving up dance?”

  “Of course not.” Angela finally unfolds her arms and sits down on the bottom step.

  I sit next to her and say, “So you’re going to keep dancing with Amala, and you’re not going to perform, and you really don’t care about being a professional dancer?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I wish I could decide what I want,” I say.

  “You already know. You want to be a dancer. Professional. And you’re good enough too,” Angela says.

  “I wish it were that simple. The problem is, I don’t like Dana’s classes. Actually, it’s not that I don’t like them, it’s that keeping up with her class is making me give up everything else. I haven’t done any homework for weeks. I practice all the time, and I still screw up.”

  “Maybe that’s what it takes to become a professional dancer,” Angela says.

  “That’s the problem. Is it worth it? I might have to redo English and maybe math. And I miss you and Sarit and Nini. It’s not that fun at Dana’s.”

  Angela nods and leans back against the second step. “I miss you too. It’s not the same without you there.”

  “I could come back…”

  “You mean leave Dana’s studio? Isn’t it what you always wanted?”

  “It’s everything but fun.”

  “You gotta have fun, Lila, or else why bother?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Exactly.”

  I take a strand of Angela’s long hair and wrap it around my wrist. We sit like that until her mom calls Angela to help her in the kitchen, and I get up to leave.

  “You won’t see me dancing if you’re in Mexico,” I say.

  “I know. I’m sad about that. But I’ll be swimming in the warm ocean and hanging out with Jonas and his family, so I’m not too sad.”

  “Have a fantastic time, Angela. I mean it.”

  “Thanks.” Angela smiles from head to toe and gives me a huge hug.

  Eighteen

  “Thank goodness you’re here,” Eve says when I enter the change room on the morning of the festival.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much bright fabric and sparkly jewelry in one place before,” I say. Every inch of the floor is covered in piles of scarves and skirts and bloomers. Girls and women have their faces plastered to the mirrors as they put on makeup and fake eyelashes and pin flowers in their hair.

  Eve motions me to a corner where Alex and Robin are both half undressed. Robin waves her bra at me and says, “Help me strap myself into this thing.”

  “Everyone in costume in five minutes. We’re doing a run-through onstage in ten,” Eve says.

  I’ve got my bra on under my hoodie, so all I have to do is pull on my skirt and make sure my hair’s in place.

  Robin stands in front of me, and I tie the strap of her bra tightly, then twirl around and say, “Check mine.”

  “It’s good,” she says.

  We both turn to face the mirror. It’s a shock to see myself. We’ve all covered our white bras with lace trim and sparkly sequins and have made matching belts to wrap around the long white skirts. Robin and I both have flowers in our hair and dangling earrings that sparkle in the lights.

  “We look good,” Robin says with surprise in her voice.

  “Yeah, we do.”

  “Ready?” Eve says behind us. “The stage is this way.”

  “Where’s Dana?” I ask.

  “She’s talking to the sound people. Now come on—we don’t want to be late for the run-through.” Eve shoves her way through a bunch of younger girls in silk bloomers and heads toward a door at the far end of the room.

  As we follow Eve, I ask Robin and Alex, “Who died and made her God?”

  “Notice she’s not in costume yet,” Alex says.

  It’s true—Eve still has a tank top on over her skirt. When we reach backstage, Eve puts her finger to her lips to indicate that we should be quiet, as if we didn’t already know. Amala’s troupe is onstage, running through their choreography. They’re partway through already, but I step up to the curtain and watch anyway.

  “They look perfect,” I whisper to Robin.

  “Yeah, they do.”

  When their music is over, they rush offstage with huge grins on their faces.

  “Hi, Lila,” Nini calls as she runs past.

  “You were amazing,” I say.

  “It’s going to be so much fun, but you can’t see a thing with the lights on,” she says.

  “Lila, we’re on.” Eve pulls me by the arm, and I stumble after her onto the stage.

  I’ve danced in student performances before, but never on a stage like this, with proper stage lights and cues on the floor. Nini’s right. I can’t see a thing except the stage itself. No way to know who is watching.

  Dana’s voice comes from somewhere in the audience seats. “Ready, girls? This is our final run-through before the performance. Pretend the audience is already here. Smile! Have fun!”

  The music starts, but Eve calls out, “Wait. We’re too far to stage right. Everyone shift three feet to the left.”

  We all shuffle over, and Dana’s voice says, “Thank you, Eve. No stopping now. We’re going to run through from beginning to end.”

  The music starts again. The first group of girls moves, and I count with the music. When my turn comes, I catch the timing perfectly, and the three of us swing into action. The music swells, and we head into the pinwheel. From here I can see everyone, and we’re all smiling. Everything goes smoothly until the song is over, and we end.

  “Come forward and bow,” Dana’s voice says, and we all rush to the front of the stage. “Well done, girls. We’re on in half an hour, so go and finish your makeup and take a few deep breaths.”

  “That was great,” Sam says as we head back to the change room, but Eve says, “We need to run through that shimmy sequence again,” and she marches to the corner of the change room where we’ve left our street clothes. “Finish your makeup and come to the center of the room. We’ll practice there.”

  “Chill, Eve,” says Sam.

  “Don’t tell me to chill. We are going to drill for the next half hour until we walk onto that stage. We are going to be perfect.” Eve’s voice has an edge of frustration in it, like she’s about to explode any moment.

  Sam points to Eve’s tank top and says, “You’re not in costume.”

  Eve yanks off her tank top, revealing her bra underneath. “Now I am.”

  “Well, I want to work on my makeup, then sit quietly with my eyes closed for a few minutes before we have to go backstage,” Sam says.

  A voice comes over the loudspeaker. “Starting in three minutes, ladies. First two numbers backstage in one minute, please.”

  “You will not ruin this for me, Sam,” Eve says.

  Her eyes shoot sparks at Sam, but Sam shrugs and says, “I’m not ruining this for anyone, Eve.”

  Eve’s face is red and she’s having a hard time breathing, and the only thing I can think is that I want to get away from her.

  “Let’s go backstage and watch,” Robin says.

  “Good idea,” I say, and the two of us creep past a few dancers and around to the backstage area. The first danc
e is ending as we arrive, and Amala’s troupe is waiting to head on.

  “Break a leg,” I whisper to Sarit and Nini. Sarit hugs me. At least someone’s having fun.

  Amala’s troupe heads onto the stage, and silence falls. I hold my breath until the music starts and the girls begin to move. Wow, yes! Their arms flow around them as they catch the beat of the drums, and in unison they slip into their traveling step with the violin and cello. When they twirl around to the back with the drum roll, I can see their faces shining with happiness. They turn forward again, moving to the rhythm of the accordion, and start the classic belly-dance sequence. The mirrored hip scarves dazzle in the lights, and the audience goes crazy, calling out and clapping. The energy onstage rises, and the girls dance like they’re on wings, flying across the stage and smiling at each other. As the music ends, Nini whoops, and the whole troupe laughs. The clapping from the audience is thunderous, and energy and happiness radiate from the stage. The girls grin and high-five each other as they run offstage.

  “Good luck,” Sarit whispers to me as she rushes past.

  There’s another troupe moving onto the stage, which Robin and I stay to watch, and slowly the girls from Dana’s studio join us backstage. My nerves are tingling now, and when Eve steps up behind me and whispers, “Remember to count,” I almost jump out of my skin.

  Finally, it’s our turn. We march silently onto the empty stage and form our groupings. The lights go on, and all I can see are Alex and Sam standing on either side of me. The music starts, and I count the beats of the drum. The lights are stronger than they were in the practice run, making it hard to see the girls on the other side of the stage, but it looks like they’re moving flawlessly. When our turn comes, we catch the beat perfectly. I let out my breath and count in my head as we move through the figure eight and the shoulder motions.