Two to Tango

by Sheryl Berk

  “What are you supposed to be?” Liberty smirked. “A monkey wrapped in toilet paper?”

  Rochelle reached for a long wand leaning against the wall. With the flick of a switch, it glowed neon blue. “I’m dancing to the theme from Star Wars.” She smiled, waving the lightsaber under Liberty’s nose. “And I wouldn’t mess with this Jedi warrior if I were you.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that,” Liberty said icily. “You’re going to need all the help you can get.”

  Rochelle noticed that she was dressed head to toe in pink—which, frankly, was not all that unusual for Liberty. But when she turned around, she saw that there was a long tail suspended from her velvet jumpsuit. Liberty secured a headband with pink velvet ears on top of her head.

  “Don’t tell me . . .” Rochelle groaned. “You’re the Pink Panther.”

  “The one and only.” Liberty smiled. “I’m doing a jazz and acro routine that’s going to bring this audience to their feet cheering.”

  “Or running for the exits,” Rochelle tossed back.

  Scarlett stepped between them. She was dressed in a delicate pale pink tutu with a sparkling tiara on her head. “I’m sure Liberty’s routine is purrfect,” she joked. “And Rochelle, yours is stellar.”

  “That’s so sweet of you to say, Sugar Plum Fairy,” Rochelle replied. “You look great, Scarlett.”

  “You think?” Scarlett spun around in her toe shoes. “I have always dreamed of dancing this role.”

  “And I’ve always dreamed of dancing across a Broadway stage and seeing my name in lights on a marquee,” Bria said. She had on a black tuxedo, top hat, and shiny patent leather tap shoes. She demonstrated a few quick shuffles on the hardwood floor backstage. “I’m doing a salute to Fred Astaire, one of my dance idols.”

  Gracie was the only one looking less than thrilled with the chance to show off onstage. “You didn’t tell me there were going to be this many people watching!” she whispered to Scarlett. “I don’t think I can do this.”

  “Do what? Flip some pancakes onstage?” a voice said behind her. “And here I was, thinking you were an Iron Chef.”

  Rochelle felt her cheeks flush. It was Hayden, and he looked heavenly. He was dressed in a dark gray suit and sporty fedora. “I’m Gene Kelly in Singin’ in the Rain. Flooding the studio the other day gave me the idea.”

  “You can dance in the rain, but I’m not going out there,” Gracie said, unbuttoning her white chef’s coat and sitting on the floor. She crossed her legs and covered her ears so no one could talk her out of it.

  “She has a little stage fright,” Scarlett explained to Hayden. None of the Divas could forget the last time Gracie panicked midperformance and Scarlett had to join her onstage for an impromptu duet. To their surprise, they’d won, but Gracie still lacked the courage to compete without someone standing by her side.

  “A little stage fright?” Liberty piped up. “She’s petrified of the spotlight. I just don’t get it at all.”

  “I do,” Hayden said, sitting down on the floor next to Gracie. “I used to be terrified to go onstage in front of people when I was your age.”

  “You were?” Gracie asked.

  “You were?” Rochelle chimed in. It seemed impossible that Hayden, with all his talent and confidence, had ever been scared of anything.

  “I was, and I still am sometimes,” he admitted.

  “But I’ve tried everything. Lucky charms, deep breaths, even picturing the audience in their underwear.” Gracie sighed. “It doesn’t work.”

  “Have you tried pretending you’re all alone at home, dancing in your living room?” Hayden asked. “That’s what works for me when I get the jitters.”

  “I don’t know . . .” Gracie hesitated.

  “How ’bout this?” Rochelle said, handing her a pan. “Pretend you’re just whipping up a Chef Gracie special.”

  “And don’t forget this!” Scarlett said, handing her little sister a squeeze bottle of ketchup they had brought as a prop. “Your secret ingredient.”

  “The more you do it, the easier it gets, Gracie,” Hayden said. “I promise.”

  “Are you nervous now?” Gracie asked him.

  Hayden winked at Rochelle. “You bet. Competing against you Divas is pretty scary. I’m afraid you’re gonna kick my butt.”

  “You’re forgetting one thing,” Rochelle said, crouching down next to him. For once, she wasn’t afraid to speak or look him in the eyes. Taking over and leading the team these past few days had given her newfound confidence. “You’re a Dance Diva, too.”

  “I’m honored,” Hayden replied. “But could I maybe be a Dance Divo . . . or Dude . . . something that sounds a little tougher?”

  Rochelle tapped the lightsaber sitting in a holster on her hip. “Are you saying Divas aren’t tough?”

  Gracie stood up. “Hey, don’t pick on my boyfriend, Rock!” She put on her chef’s hat and stood up. Then she planted a kiss on Hayden’s forehead.

  “OMG! Your little sis just stole Rock’s guy,” Bria whispered to Scarlett.

  This time, it was Hayden’s turn to blush. “You go out there, Gracie, and show ’em how it’s done. I’ll ketchup with you later. Get it?”

  Gracie cracked up and grabbed her ketchup bottle.

  “Kaydokey,” Gracie replied.

  Scarlett smiled. That was Gracie’s way of saying okay and okeydokey rolled into one. Hayden had really gotten through to her! Rochelle had put her third in the lineup, but now she wanted to go on first.

  “Your BF is amazing,” Scarlett whispered to Rochelle.

  “He’s not my BF.” Rochelle sighed. “He’s my dance partner.”

  “ ‘You say potato, I say potahto . . .,’ ” Bria sang, just like Fred Astaire. “If he’s not your boyfriend, I’ll eat my top hat.”

  Rochelle glanced back at Hayden. He did look a little nervous as he stretched and warmed up for his solo. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he wasn’t as confident as he pretended to be. Maybe he felt the same butterflies in his stomach that she felt as they darted around the dance floor. Could it be that all along Hayden liked her, too?

  “You have a packed theater—don’t you think it’s time to start the show?” A stern yet familiar voice snapped Rochelle back to her senses.

  “I can’t wait to see what you girls have done while I was gone,” Miss Toni said. She glared at Rochelle. “Especially you.”

  Chapter 9

  Showdown!

  Rochelle walked onstage with a microphone in hand, ready to announce the start of the dance-off. She felt her knees shaking. The last thing she expected was for Miss Toni to return today!

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming,” she said nervously. “We hope you like our show and vote for your favorite solo at the end. You’ll find ballots on your chairs. Please fill them out and put them in the boxes at the back of the auditorium after the show.”

  She scanned the audience for Miss Toni’s face. Where was that tight black bun and bright red lipstick? And was Toni going to kill her as soon as the show was over? Then she spied another familiar face in the front row and gasped. It was one of the dancers from City Feet, Anya Bazarov. Anya had caused quite a scandal at Feet on Fire. She was an amazing ballerina, but Justine had registered her to compete as a Junior Soloist when she was thirteen and actually no longer a Junior. It had gotten her disqualified for her solo, and points had been deducted from City Feet’s group score. It was part of the reason Dance Divas won that competition.

  Rochelle panicked: Was Anya out for revenge? Was she there to spy on them and report back to Justine? She raced back to the wings. “Guys, you won’t believe who’s out there! That Bizarre-o girl from City Feet!”

  “No way!” Scarlett said. “What’s she doing here?” She peeked out of the curtain to get a closer look.

  “Rock,” Bria said solemnly. “There’s something else you should see.”

  There, seated right next to Anya, was Miss Toni.

  “W
ait a sec. Weren’t the initials on Toni’s costume sketch ‘A. B.’?” Bria recalled.

  “And doesn’t Anya come from L.A.?” Liberty pointed out.

  “No way!” Rochelle cried. “Miss Toni stole Anya away from City Feet to be a Diva!”

  “That would be really sneaky,” Bria said.

  “That would be really smart,” Liberty added. “Without Anya, City Feet doesn’t stand a chance of beating us.”

  Rochelle refused to believe Toni could play dirty like this. Yes, she wanted to win against City Feet, but she would never purposely do something to destroy another team’s chances. Would she?

  “A hem.” Gracie cleared her throat. “I think it’s my turn. Rock, introduce me!” She smiled at Hayden adoringly. “Watch this!”

  Rochelle returned to the stage, trying not to look at her teacher or Anya. Instead, she smiled and put on her best emcee voice: “Please welcome to the stage, Gracie doing an acro routine to ‘Cooking by the Book’!”

  Gracie skipped out onstage and stood before the toy kitchen set that Scarlett had prepared for her. There was a bunch of pots and pans, spoons and mixing bowls—and of course, pancakes and ketchup. Her song was a fun, upbeat tune, and the audience clapped along as she flipped a pancake in a frying pan, then did a perfect back handspring step out. She ended the routine with a side aerial and a chin stand.

  “That little Gracie’s got moves,” Hayden said from the wings.

  “You really helped her conquer her fear today,” Scarlett said. “You made her feel like she could do anything. Thanks.”

  “Yeah, I have that effect on people. Right, Rock?” Hayden teased.

  Rochelle smiled. “You’re up next, Dance Divo. Let’s see what you got.”

  As Gracie took her bows, Hayden rolled the kitchen set offstage and pushed out his prop: an old-fashioned streetlamp he’d borrowed from his school theater department.

  “Doing a contemporary routine to ‘Singin’ in the Rain,’ please give it up for Hayden!” Rochelle announced.

  As the music began, Hayden opened his black umbrella and stretched his hand toward the sky. He leaped up on the lamppost and tossed his hat and umbrella to the side of the stage. He swung around the post and dismounted, rolling into a front somersault. Then he danced around the stage and performed a breathtaking cabriole—a scissorlike leap in the air that made the audience applaud wildly.

  “Whoa!” Scarlett exclaimed. “He’s incredible.”

  “He is, isn’t he?” Liberty swooned.

  “He’s mine. Hands off!” Gracie said, giving Liberty a little shove.

  As he took his bows, Hayden scooped up his hat and placed it back on his head. He looked to the wings and tipped it at Rochelle. Her heart did a little tap dance.

  “Rock, you’re next,” Scarlett said. “I’ll introduce you.”

  Scarlett walked across the stage as the lights dimmed. “Performing a contemporary routine to the Star Wars theme, please welcome our Divas director for this dance-off, Rochelle!”

  Rochelle smiled. “Divas director” had a nice ring to it. These past few days, she’d really given it her all, never once complaining, even when Liberty tried to rattle her. She helped each of her team members with their music, costumes, and props. She handed out flyers and printed up programs and ballots so the audience could vote. It was an exhausting amount of work to do, and it made her appreciate Miss Toni a little more. Coaching a dance team was not an easy job!

  As the orchestral theme from Star Wars boomed over the speakers, Rochelle exploded onstage, swinging her lightsaber through the air. She felt like Princess Leia, leading the Rebel Alliance into battle against the Death Star. Her grand jeté was sharp and clean—a perfect split midair. And as she did an échappé sauté, she seemed magically suspended above the ground for a few seconds.

  When the number ended, she saw that the audience was cheering and giving her a standing ovation. Even Toni was on her feet, applauding.

  From the wings, she heard her fellow Divas calling, “Brava!” Hayden was the first to greet her.

  “Awesome! You rocked it, Rock,” he said enthusiastically. Then he grabbed her in a big bear hug.

  Rochelle was stunned. “Thanks,” she said breathlessly. He was still hugging her, and she hoped he’d never let go.

  “No fair! You like her more than me!” Gracie pouted. Rochelle suspected Liberty was thinking the same thing.

  “You haven’t seen my routine yet, Hayden,” Liberty said, practically pulling him away from Rochelle. “I’m next. You’ve never seen anything like this.”

  She strutted out onstage, microphone in hand, to introduce herself to the crowd. “Hi, everyone! I’m Liberty and I’m going to be doing a jazz routine choreographed by my famous mother, Jane Montgomery. It’s called ‘Pink Panther Revisited.’ ”

  “I thought her mom was in L.A.,” Rochelle whispered to Bria.

  “Choreo-Skype.” Bria sighed. “She even Fed-Exed the costume so Liberty would have nothing but the best. Britney Spears’s costume designer made it for her.”

  “She’s really something, isn’t she?” Hayden said, then whistled through his teeth. Rochelle couldn’t tell if that was a compliment or a criticism. But he seemed riveted as Liberty slunk around the stage and purred like a kitty. Even she had to admit that her teammate’s moves were exquisite. How did Liberty get her leg up so high and not lose her balance?

  At the end of the routine, she zipped off the catsuit to reveal a pink sequin leotard beneath it. She did an amazing thirty-one fouetté pirouettes as the crowd clapped and counted.

  “That is sick!” Hayden gushed. “Liberty deserves to win.”

  Rochelle’s heart sunk. Hayden thought Liberty was the best dancer—and as much as it pained her to admit it, he was right. Not even Scarlett’s graceful Sugar Plum or Bria’s exciting tap routine that followed could top Liberty’s nonstop spins. No matter how hard Rochelle tried, Liberty would always be better than she was.

  Chapter 10

  The Envelope, Please

  “Everyone is done voting,” Scarlett told Rochelle during the intermission. “Your mom said she’ll tally the votes and we can announce the winner after the break.”

  “Why bother counting the votes?” Rochelle sighed. She saw that Liberty was chatting with Hayden in a corner. She was giggling and demonstrating her pirouettes for him. “We already know who won.”

  “You do?” Gracie asked. “I wanna know, too!”

  Scarlett shook her head. “Rock doesn’t know who won. She’s just feeling defeated.”

  Gracie looked puzzled. “Da feeted? What’s wrong with da feet?” she asked Rochelle, staring at her toes. “Are they hurting you? Maybe you should stretch?”

  Rochelle laughed and gave Gracie a hug. “What would I do without you, Gracie?”

  “You’d have a ketchup-less life, that’s for sure,” Scarlett said, and chuckled.

  The Divas waited anxiously as Rochelle’s mom tallied the votes. She double-checked everything before writing a name down on a slip of paper.

  “Who got the solo?” Gracie asked, bouncing up and down. “I hope it was me!”

  “You were all absolutely brilliant,” Mrs. Hayes said. “But I am sworn to secrecy.” She handed a sealed envelope to Rochelle. “Go ahead, honey. Read the results onstage before Gracie turns into a human pogo stick!”

  Rochelle stepped nervously out into the spotlight once again. She adjusted the microphone stand and summoned everyone to attention. “Excuse me! Can we have everyone take their seats? We have the winner of the dance-off.”

  She gently tore open the envelope and pulled out the folded slip of paper inside. “And the winner of the solo at Leaps and Bounds is . . .” She opened the paper and saw the name. It couldn’t be!

  “Hayden Finley.”

  Hayden bounded onto the stage, pumping his fist in the air. “Yes! I won!” he exclaimed as the audience applauded wildly.

  “Encore! Encore!” they called.

  “
Well, you should give them what they want,” Rochelle said.

  “Only if we do our duet,” Hayden replied. “Come on. Let’s give them a sneak peek. We have the smoke machine backstage.”

  Rochelle panicked. “Wait! I can’t! We’re not ready! We don’t have our music.”

  Scarlett handed her the CD Toni had given Rochelle for practice. “You’re as ready as you’ll ever be. Go ahead, Rock. Show ’em what you got.”

  “But I don’t have my skirt,” Rochelle said nervously.

  “Here, improvise,” Bria said, tying a ballet wrap sweater around her waist.

  “But, but . . .,” Rochelle said, trying to think of another excuse, just one more reason why she couldn’t go out onstage and dance with Hayden.

  He held his hand out to her. “You coming?” He smiled and Rochelle’s hesitation melted away.

  As their music started, Rochelle dashed out onto the stage, lunging at Hayden as he did his best to catch her in his arms. A white smoke billowed out of the machine, making it hard to see. Rochelle could barely find Hayden in all that fog, but she trusted he would be there beside her. Every time he moved forward, she stepped back; it was thrilling choreography that had the audience on the edge of their seats.

  As she broke away into her piqué turns, she heard her fellow Divas cheering from the wings. She remembered everything Toni taught her. She pointed her right leg straight out into the floor and came up into a passé with her left. Then she spun, trying to keep her eyes focused on a spot on the back wall of the theater. But the smoke was stinging her eyes. She was concentrating so hard as she traveled across the stage that she didn’t notice the sweater coming loose around her hips. It fell to the floor, and she didn’t see it beneath her feet. She tripped and fell, landing on the stage with a hard thud.