by Rachel Shane
She seemed to glow at the comment about her fans. Then, her fingers started snapping as her mouth counted off eights. “Lift your leg.”
It was as good as any yes I would get. I stretched it all the way up. I used to be able to rest my ankle on my shoulder but I was out of practice now for three months. My leg wavered in the air.
“Your foot is lopsided.”
“I know.” I gritted my teeth, straining from the effort.
She pushed her lips to the side. “Slam it down across your other leg and lean forward.”
I put all my oomph into that smash to show Lara what she was still capable of. What I was still capable of.
“Now drop to the floor on your torso and quickly push up.”
Sweat dampened my armpits as my fingers splayed out onto the dusty floor.
“Faster.” She rose off the bench in her excitement, then winced and clutched her hip.
I pushed myself into a standing position and repeated the sequence again. And again. And again until I was out of breath and panting.
She tapped a finger to her lip. “Maybe we should start after the leg kick.”
My eyelashes fluttered closed. “So you’re in? You’re going to choreograph?”
She blew her bangs out of her eyes. “What kind of music is this to? Anything but Katy Perry.”
I chuckled at that. “I’ve got an mp3 of the music on my phone.” I pointed in the direction of my purse. “But first I need you to commit.”
“One last hoorah.” She swallowed audibly and sat back down on the bleacher. “Before I forget dancing forever.”
“No, Lara. This is just the beginning. I worked with the school guidance counselor to invite all kinds of college admissions people, agents, recruiters, you name it, to watch this performance. You’re going to blow them away.” I did a little twirl. God, I missed dancing.
She fixated on my twirl. “I don’t know if I trust you anymore, Kase. This seems like an excuse for you to dance again.”
I stopped in place mid-turn. “I swear. I’ve given up on two things for good. Dance. And lying. Your hair looks stupid like that.” I pointed to her bun. “See? Not lying.”
She removed her hair from the bun and scrunched through it. It was messy and still a bit wet in places from the shower, but that only made her sexier. “So if you’re not keeping secrets anymore…I’ve always wanted to know, how far ‘d you go with Finn?”
“Nothing I couldn’t write about in public. What did you do with Hayden?”
“Nothing. I don’t trust you not to blog about this.”
“The blog is done, but how do you know I didn’t? You haven’t read it yet.” I arched my eyebrows at her.
She looked horrified. I had to change the subject. Stat. “Finn emailed me.”
She studied her red sparkly nails. “What did he say?”
I took a tentative step toward her as I told her about his blog comments and my initial email to him. “He wrote back, ‘You’re asking the wrong question.’ What does that even mean?”
“He was always weird like that. Hayden used to tell me…” She looked down, sealing the rest of her sentence behind her lips.
I lowered myself into the bleacher next to her. “I know he loves these games.” I ripped the folded cryptogram from where I’d stuffed it in my bra and held it out to her as evidence. I still hadn’t decoded it despite wasting all my homework time on it last night. “But ugh! Why would he torture me like this?”
“Why am I talking to you right now? Sometimes people do unexplainable things.” A hint of a grin played on her lips. She leaned back, her arms resting on the bleacher behind her. “Did you write back?”
“Yes.” I threw my arms up in the air. “I tried every question I could think of. Apparently none of them were the magic phrase.” I rattled off a list of the questions I’d asked, including my recent attempts of How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood? and in a fit of desperation: What’s the correct question?
“Maybe this is his way of saying he doesn’t want to write you back. Cryptic, not direct, his usual style.”
I swallowed hard and grabbed my cell phone from my bag. If Lara was right, I needed to know. I texted: Are you over me?
“Hey, it could be worse.” She nudged me with her shoulder. “He might not have contacted you at all.”
But did this even count?
My sister slapped my leg. “Come on, we’ve got a lot of work to do.” She clapped her hands together and jutted her chin toward the gym floor. I shoved the phone back in my purse and out of my mind.
I spent the next two hours performing tricks as Lara called out commands. If choreography didn’t work out, she’d make a good military general. Lara used her arms to mime the different things she wanted me to try. The smile never left her face. By the time we were finished, every part of my body ached, including parts I didn’t know could. My shirt went from dry to damp and my hair had become so frizzy, it probably would be declared a traffic violation.
I draped a towel around the back of my neck. “So. Are you still mad at me?”
“That depends on what I read on your blog.” She swigged her water.
“You’re going to read it?” No, that was the wrong question. “Why read it now and not earlier?” I hopped up and paced in front of her. I couldn’t sit still while waiting for her answer.
She picked at the wood on the bleacher, scraping off an old piece of gum with her fingernail. “I wasn’t ready to relive everything before.”
“But you are now?”
“No. I’ll never be ready and I’ll never be able to forget.” She gave her shoulders a shake. “So I want to remind myself that things can’t ever go back to the way they were. You’re right about that.”
My stomach hollowed out. All along I wanted her to read the blog, hear my side of the story. I’d hoped it would make her forgive me. But now I realized all it would do was remind her again of what a horrible sister I was. When she meant she couldn’t ever go back to the way things were…she was also talking about our relationship.
If she read the blog, it might damage all the progress I’d made with her. Maybe forever.
LATER THAT NIGHT, MOM and Dad weren’t home but I didn’t think anything of it. I made Lean Cuisines for dinner and wished I had some awesome baked goods from Denise to unbalance the meal. I helped Lara into a chair at the dinner table—a welcome change from me eating alone.
A few minutes after I’d set a steaming tray in front of her, the door creaked open and I heard Mom and Dad’s voices echoing from the entryway.
“We got hungry,” I yelled. I only ever spoke to them these days from a distance.
“We didn’t know where you were,” Lara added. We were finally on the same team again!
When they entered the kitchen, their faces were so severe, all sharp lines and angles instead of the soft curve of a smile. Lara stopped chewing. My mashed potatoes halted in mid-air.
Mom crossed her arms. “Kasey, I never thought you’d hurt your sister as much as you did on the cruise, but now this?”
Lara’s fork fell from her hands and clanged against the hardwood floor. It was exactly how I felt.
My voice came out like a croak. “You read the blog.” It wasn’t a question. It was a fact.
Mom sighed. “We got an anonymous tip. An email with a link.”
An anonymous tip. I only had one guess who sent it. My hands curled into fists.
I had no idea what to say except my usual. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” Mom turned her back to us and her shoulders shook. A snort escaped her throat.
Lara glanced at Mom, then back at me. “Kasey’s been helping me. She’s set up this fundraiser at school and I’m going to choreograph.” The excitement in Lara’s voice felt out of place in the room. “I know it’s not dancing, but it’s the only thing I have left.”
Mom pasted on a smile. “That’s not true, Lara. You’re doing great. I’m so proud o
f the way you’ve taken to college. You’re—”
Lara heaved a deep sigh. “I’m not really going to college. I lost my spot. But it doesn’t matter. If I can choreograph, I can still have a career.”
My mouth flopped open. Holy crap, she told them. Which meant she really was excited about my choreography idea.
Mom stared with glassy eyes, swaying on her feet like the news might knock her over completely.
Dad let out a sharp laugh. “Lara, you’re a riot.” He elbowed Mom. “Isn’t she? That’s my girl, trying to lighten the situation with humor. And here I thought Kasey was the funny one.”
Lara slumped over her soggy chicken. Mom and Dad looked to me as if I might have the punchline. “It’s not a joke,” I said.
Mom burst into tears and buried her face in Dad’s shoulder. He rubbed her back. She heaved for a few minutes and we all just stood there, watching her. Lara flipped her napkin over her meal, burying it. A low pulse started in the back of my neck. I should feel guilty. Instead I had to control my urge to smash my own chicken dinner with my fist.
Mom snorted, then wiped her face with her sleeve. “I’m just so upset you girls felt like you couldn’t talk to us. I thought we had this great relationship. But it was all a lie.”
I pushed myself up from the table. The chair scraping across the hardwood floor made Mom’s head snap up.
She was right. Our great relationship was a lie. “You know what, I take back my apology.” I scrubbed my hands across my face. “You say you’re disappointed in Lara, but look at her, she’s trying her best.” I jabbed a finger in my sister’s direction. She shrank back in her chair. “She’s not even letting a little injury stop her. She’s amazing.”
Lara actually got out of her seat and put her hand on my shoulder. Her touch was the kind of camaraderie I’d been wanting since the cruise.
“You should be proud of her.” My voice cracked. “You should be proud of me.”
I held my breath, waiting for them to acknowledge what I’d just said. But nothing came. Dad just continued to hold Mom while she sobbed.
They’d read the blog. They knew how I felt. But I decided to tell them anyway. “All these years you never cared about my dancing.” I sucked in a deep, rattling breath. “So you don’t get to be disappointed in me. You can only be disappointed in something you once cared about.”
I stomped out of the kitchen and on my way out, I caught the way Lara’s lips parted as she watched me leave.
R.S.V.Plead
Posted by Kasey at 1:12 P.M.
Sunday, September 27
Current Mood: Anxious
SAT word of the day: Soiree. Definition: Sounds like “sorry” but way more fun.
Listening to: Lonnie’s song. No, not THAT one.
Just in case there are still people reading this blog…
COME SUPPORT THE DANCE TEAM:
What: ManPrep Talent Show Fundraiser
When: Saturday, October 3rd
Time: 7pm
Price: $10 per ticket. But it goes to a good cause!
Special Surprise: Well, I can’t tell you that without spoiling it. But it will be EPIC.
See you there!
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DESPITE MY THROBBING NERVES and the way my stomach writhed all day long, I managed to attend classes and wait the two hours in an empty hallway after school for dance practice to end. Denise had already asked the team to stay late for a special surprise. But that special surprise required Lara.
And she was now two hours late.
All that hard work I’d done to get her here, gone. Mom’s lack of enthusiasm wrecked her. And then she must have decided not to forgive me after reading the blog. The dance team didn’t even know about my involvement in their fundraiser surprise and now I had to go break the news to them.
Ugh. There weren’t enough deep breaths in the world to give me the amount of courage I needed.
I squared my shoulders and entered the gym. The dance team girls were spread out, some chatting in a circle in the center, others stretching on the floor, and a few were lounging in the bleachers checking their phones. It reminded me way too much of the first day of school when the girls had ganged up on me and were ready to kick me off the team before I even had a chance to quit. Denise stood in the group with Ali and by the way their arms were flailing in an interpretive dance all their own, I knew they were arguing about something.
My stomach gurgled. Down, boy.
The squeak my sneakers made on the shiny gym floor set off an alarm. One by one heads turned in my direction until all eyes were on me as I walked what felt like a plank toward Denise and Ali. Step by careful step, I teetered on the edge, knowing once I reached them, I’d have to jump. I jammed my hands into the pockets of my hoodie to stop them from shaking.
Denise spun around, looking all over the gym, probably trying to find the absent Lara.
The smirk that appeared on Ali’s face told me she was ready with a snarky comment. It was her best talent, after all. “Forget you’re not on the team anymore?”
I was about to ignore her, but I’d let her win too many times already. “You know, I don’t care what you do to bully me at school, but getting my parents involved was extremely lame. Don’t you have a life?” I rolled my eyes at her. It felt great.
She squinted at me, confused. “What are you talking about? Why would I care about your parents?”
“You sent them the link to my blog.”
She let out a loud laugh and clapped once. “Someone did that? That’s awesome! Props to them.”
Either she suddenly gained an Oscar-winning acting talent, or she hadn’t sent the link. My pulse raced…then who did?
“Ha, I bet they hate you even more!”
I ignored her and focused on Denise. My voice came out meeker than I wanted. “Lara’s not coming.”
Ali laughed. “Oh my God, you really do have amnesia!”
Denise put her hands on her hip. “I was afraid of that. But you know the routine, right? We can still tout it as Lara’s—”
I shook my head. “I don’t feel comfortable teaching it without her involvement.”
Ali circled the two of us like a shark. “Wait, this is what you made us all stay after for? To help her?” She pointed at me as if I was road kill that someone was dangling in her face.
“To help Lara,” I corrected. Wasn’t she supposed to be Lara’s friend?
Just then, the doors swung open. Lara hobbled toward us. She was back on her crutches, which she hadn’t used in months. Everyone turned to stare at her with confused expressions on their faces.
Ali dropped her bitchface and replaced it with a fake smile as she rushed over to my sister. “Oh no! Are you okay? Did Kasey push you off a bridge this time?”
“Tripped this morning when trying to practice.” She swiveled on her crutches toward me. “Guess I really should stick with choreography from now on.”
“What the hell is going on?” Ali crossed her arms and divided her gaze between Lara, Denise, and me. “I thought this was about figuring out what we were going to perform for the Talent Show fundraiser next weekend? I’m already working on something.”
“And I guarantee my routine is better,” Lara said.
Denise didn’t just tell them about my involvement. She hadn’t told them anything. I bit my lip and explained. “I’m going to teach it to you.”
Ali stormed up to me, getting right in my face. For someone so petite, she could be pretty menacing. “You better not be performing with us.”
I swallowed and stepped backward from her. “I’m not on the team, am I?”
The school was allowing former alumni to perform with school groups for the Talent Show as well, but that still didn’t qualify me. College recruitment staff, talent agencies, and various other scouts were coming to watch. They might be impressed by the orchestra or the fine art gallery, but I hoped Lara’s choreography would impress them enough to get her a future.
>
As for me, I hoped I would be brave enough to watch the performances without getting jealous.
Ali turned to Lara. “Lar, it’s great that you showed up here, I’ve missed you since you moved out, and I know alumni are encouraged to enter as well. But I’ve already been working on something. I think it’ll really impress the talent agents coming. I’ve emailed them to entice them and everything!” She wheeled until she faced me and smoothed down her brown hair. It was straighter than her hips. “And Kasey, what the fuck? You’ve already hijacked one talent show. Leave this one alone.”
My hands balled into fists at my sides. In another life, I’d zip my lips and retreat out the door. But I wouldn’t let Ali take this away from my sister. “There wouldn’t be a talent show if it not for me. It was my idea. I got Principal Somers’s approval and I worked with the guidance counselor to plan it. I even made it so the winning school group gets all the proceeds. And with Lara’s choreography, you’ll win.”
The other girls inched toward us, gathering around. Lara wobbled on her crutches. I wanted her to sit down on the bleachers but I knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t leave a spotlight. All eyes hadn’t been on her in a positive way in a long time.
“We don’t need the freaking proceeds. We can raise enough ourselves to get to Nationals. We’re almost there and your train wreck ass provides plenty of fodder material to sell loads of useless crap to make fun of you with.” Ali laughed at her own joke. “Besides, we’ll win either way, just like we won Regionals. Because we did that based on talent.” She shook her head at me. “Something you don’t have.”
“Last year’s talent,” I reminded her. “When Lara was on the team.”
“When we all were.” Ali swept a finger over the circle of girls surrounding us. “And we’re all still on the team. Unlike you and Lara.” She snapped her fingers. “We’re performing my routine. Practice is over for today. We’ll figure this out tomorrow.” She shooed the girls toward the door.
