“I know you’re out there,” I called out to my sister.
Hailey came in, holding her hands behind her back.
“I’m not in the mood, sorry,” I said, but she disregarded me and jumped on my bed.
“Ouch,” I grumbled. “Watch the injured person.”
“I am here to cheer you up!” Hailey said. “Since we can’t do the Dance Challenge—because you can’t dance tonight—and we can’t do ‘What’s in My Cup?’ because of my spitting hot sauce . . .”
She held up the canvas bag in which I kept my used stage makeup.
“Blindfolded Makeover Challenge!” Hailey sang out.
“No,” I snapped.
“Please,” Hailey said. “Just come on. Mom said I could have ice cream if I was nice to you.”
She pouted her lower lip and gave me puppy-dog eyes, as did Mo, who stared at me with literal puppy-dog eyes. I knew Hailey was stubborn. I also knew that I liked doing Blindfolded Makeup Challenge.
“Please!” Hailey begged. “I never got to get to the float that was passing out candy, because you fell off yours and we had to leave. You owe me sugar!”
I guess I did owe her a little bit for ruining her parade.
“Okay,” I said, and she grinned.
“You just relax while I give you a makeover,” she said.
“I’m not sure how relaxing that is,” I told her. “But okay.”
Hailey took the blindfold and tied it over her eyes.
She picked up a jar of foundation and waved her hand around in the air until she found my face. I started laughing as she scooped a big handful of the foundation and squashed it on my cheeks. “Harper! Don’t move your face.”
“I—” I shut my mouth quickly as a big brush of face powder went into my mouth. Ack! I’d licked the brush. I spat—bluh, bluh! She had me close my eyes to put on eyeshadow from a palette—but I don’t think she meant to put on the blackest eyeshadow. And it didn’t only go on my eyelid. The lip liner application didn’t feel promising either.
“And now, the big reveal,” she said, pulling off her bandanna. Her eyes widened, and she started laughing. Then she handed me a mirror.
“Oh!” I looked horrifying, and I started laughing. “I look bruised.”
“Excuse me, you look fabulous,” Hailey said. “I might have been a little too heavy on the eyeshadow. . . .”
“And my lipstick is up my nose.” I laughed. “I look ridiculous. Do you want me to do your makeover?”
“Later. I want my ice cream,” Hailey said. “I need to wash my hands. They’re all gross from your face.”
“I need to wash my face.” I laughed. “It’s all gross from your hands.”
“Race you!” Hailey said, and bolted for our bathroom door.
“You want to race an injured person?” I yelled, laughing. “That’s so pitiful. Hey, Hails?”
Hailey stuck her head out of the bathroom.
“Thanks for cheering me up,” I said. “Seriously.”
“As a real thank-you, can I have this lip gloss to keep?”
“Sure,” I said. She cheered and fled before I changed my mind. Which I wasn’t going to do. She’d been more nice than annoying today. Plus, I had another lip gloss almost exactly the same. Win-win.
My phone blipped with an e-mail. It was from DanceStarz, a group e-mail to the five of us on DanceStarz Squad. I almost ignored it, except it had a in the subject line and a link. I couldn’t resist. I clicked the link.
A television news website loaded, with a video. The headline said “Town Celebrates Its Anniversary!” I’d half expected it to say, “Bad Dancer Falls off Float.”
Oh, no. I can’t watch! I put my phone down. I picked it up.
I had to watch.
No, no, what if it’s horrible?
I can’t watch!
Finally, I took a deep breath and pushed the play button. I watched as a newscaster standing in front of the high school marching band began talking into the microphone.
“Our Florida town may be small, a little far from the beach and the theme parks, but boy, can it throw a parade,” she said.
After a few minutes, the Sugar Plums giant frozen yogurt cup came into the scene. Oh, no. I braced myself. I watched Megan and Trina do their jumps and then it panned to Trina and me as we started our leaps.
Oh no, oh no, here it comes. I winced and put my hands over my eyes, so I could barely peek through my fingers as I watched myself launch into the air and . . .
The camera cut away to a bunch of dogs in cute costumes.
I didn’t fall! I can’t believe they didn’t show my fall! They only showed dogs in cute costumes!
I sat up a little straighter.
I was on the news! I danced on the news! My fall wasn’t on the news! I laughed. I grabbed my phone to text my parents to come upstairs, so they could see the news clip. But when I picked it up, my video chat went on and I clicked on it to answer without thinking.
“Hi,” I said, and then, “Oh!”
Because on my screen was Megan.
“Oh, hey,” I said, startled. I was not expecting to see her.
“Hey . . . WHOA!” Megan looked startled too. “You look horrible.”
She called to tell me I looked horrible? Then my picture came up on the screen. Oh yeah, Hailey’s makeover. The black eyeshadow made it look like I had two black eyes. The red lip gloss, like I had a bloody lip. She was right: I looked horrible. I grinned.
“It’s—” I opened my mouth to explain.
“So let me just get this out of the way,” Megan said. “It was suggested that I apologize to you. Even though obviously I wasn’t trying to injure you. Obviously, I was just trying to make our routine good enough, and I’m sorry but our routine was really lame before. And you were there when the Bells challenged us, so we had to show them our best. Right? RIGHT?”
Megan took a deep breath to calm herself down.
“Okay,” I said. That wasn’t exactly an apology, but I got where she was coming from. There was an awkward pause.
“All right, that’s done,” Megan said, perking up. “Did you see us on the news?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Fortunately, they only showed the good parts.”
“See, when you do what I tell you, we end up on TV!” Megan smiled brightly.
“Um. When I did what you told me, I fell off the float,” I replied.
“True.” Megan tried again. “All right. How about this: When we work together as a team, things can go great.”
“Yeah,” I said, surprised she’d admitted it. “Well said.”
“Actually, that’s what Vanessa said when she told me to call you and apologize.” Megan rolled her eyes.
“Look. I know you’d rather have the Bells here,” I said. “But I want to be on a team that wants me—”
“What team wants you?” Megan suddenly interrupted. “Energii?”
“Huh?” She obviously was misunderstanding me.
“I knew it!” Megan looked enraged. “Energii called you! They’re trying to steal you!”
“What?” I sputtered.
“They saw you on the news,” Megan kept going. “They saw your turns and wanted you, didn’t they?!”
I smiled a little bit.
“Did you just compliment my turns?” I asked her.
“Well,” Megan said. “That’s obvious. I mean, I knew you were good when you did that move over me during the lyrical improv.”
Well, well, well. I was pleased with this progress.
“So,” she continued, “I can see why Energii would try to steal you and—”
“MEGAN!” I interrupted her. “Energii did NOT call me! I am NOT going to leave DanceStarz! That is, if . . .”
I paused for dramatic effect.
“. . . we really can work together as a team,” I said. “All of us.”
“Well, obvs.” Megan tried to sound casual about it. “I mean, if you leave, then Lily will probably leave, and we won’t ha
ve enough people for a team. The next-best dancer is Carlee, and she cries if she doesn’t get a solo. Do you cry when you don’t get a solo?”
“No,” I answered.
“See? We need you,” Megan said.
I did like to be needed. Even more than that, I wanted to be wanted on the team.
“Also,” Megan said, “will you show me how you spot when you do your turns?”
“Will you stop moving my dance bag at the cubbies?” I asked.
“I don’t—” Megan wasn’t expecting that.
I raised an eyebrow at her.
“Fine, I’ll tell Riley to stop moving it,” she said.
“Then I accept your apology,” I said firmly.
“Anyway, I hope your face looks better soon,” Megan said. “It’s pretty bad. Looks like it’s going to be a while, though.”
“Yeah.” I tried not to smile as I admired myself in the video. Hailey really had made me look wrecked. “I’m going to hope for a miraculous recovery.”
CHAPTER
15
Wow, you had a miraculous recovery,” Megan said.
The miracle was makeup remover wipes. I grinned.
“Your face looks almost as good as it did before,” Megan told me.
Almost?
Megan had gotten out of her car exactly the same time as I had. I had a feeling that wasn’t a coincidence and that she’d been waiting for me. My mom dropped back to let me walk ahead with Megan through the parking lot.
“Anyway,” she said. “Are we still cool?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“And you’re going to tell Vanessa that, right? She’ll want us to have worked things out and stick together and—”
“YES. I’ll tell her!” I cut her off. I realized she was nervous about seeing Vanessa too. I was nervous enough without adding any more pressure.
When we walked into the lobby, it was the usual chaos of parents talking and little kids in leotards running around.
Some girls turned around to look at us.
“Megan!” One of the girls smirked at me. “Crazy parade, huh?”
Megan and I looked at each other.
“Late to class!” She waved the girl off.
“Thanks,” I said.
“We’re sticking together.” Megan shrugged. Then she glanced toward Vanessa’s door. “Remember, Vanessa might be watching us.”
Well, even if this “make Harper feel better” was all for show, it was working.
A boy in ballet warm-ups looked over and laughed. Megan shot him a mean look. Then she grabbed my hand and we ran into our classroom together.
When we burst into the room, our other teammates were already there, stretching. They all looked at us—and looked totally shocked.
Megan and I glanced down and realized we were still holding hands.
“What?” Megan snapped. “Team bonding, blah, blah. Continue on.”
We dropped our hands. Megan and I pulled off our street clothes so we matched the rest of the team, wearing our black leotard and shell-pink tights, with our hair in buns at the crowns of our heads. Megan went over to sit with the Bunheads, and I went by Lily.
“Team bonding?” Lily raised an eyebrow.
“Well, I had to—”
“No, no, I get it,” Lily said. “We need to be a team. It’s good.”
“Thanks, Lily.”
“How’s your knee?” She looked down at my leg.
“It’s just a little stiff,” I told her. “The doctor said I can dance on it, though.”
“Good,” she said. She lowered her voice to almost a whisper. “You’d better be good, or I’ll be stuck alone with the Bunheads.”
I looked at the Bunheads. Trina and Megan were stretching. Riley saw me and rolled her eyes.
Okay. Riley wasn’t quite up to the speed on the whole getting-along thing. I ignored her. I had more important things to worry about.
Vanessa came into the room and looked at all of us.
“Good,” she said. “You’re all here. Together. That’s the way I like to see you. Together as a team.”
“That’s us!” Megan said extra brightly. “A team!”
“I’d like to talk to Harper alone for a moment,” Vanessa said.
Here we go.
I followed Vanessa out of the studio and around the corner to her office. I was so anxious to get it over with, I barely made it into the office before I blurted it out.
“I’m sorry I fell off the float.”
“Anyone can fall. It’s what led to that situation that we need to discuss,” she said sternly. She shut her office door and sat down in a chair behind her desk. She motioned for me to sit down too. “I’ve already discussed it with the other girls and their parents. All of you disregarded what I had instructed, and that led to a safety issue. Someone got hurt. We can’t have that here in the studio.”
I nodded.
“I made an exception for you with your late audition,” she said. “Did I make a mistake?”
I shook my head no. Tears started welling up in my eyes.
“I was just trying to prove myself to everybody,” I said softly. “I thought if I could just get that combination right, I would impress everyone.”
I slumped miserably down in my seat. Instead of proving myself, I’d done the opposite.
“You should have told me you felt that way,” Vanessa said, a little more kindly this time. “Next time, I need you to speak up. Now that I know what the issue is, let’s take care of it. Let’s schedule a private lesson. Say, fifteen minutes after pointe class.”
“Okay,” I said. A private with her was actually a reward, not the punishment I’d been worried about. I would show her how hard I could work. “Sure.”
Vanessa stood up and looked me straight in the eye.
“Harper, you’re not the only person who is new here. I am new here too. We both have something to prove. I get that.” And then she smiled. “And we both are exceptional at what we do. So let’s get it done.”
“Okay!” I nodded. “I will. I will!”
Suddenly, I felt really pumped to get it done.
“How’s your knee? Well enough to dance?” she asked me, and I nodded. “Let’s go back to class.”
We went silently back into the dance studio. The other girls were already at the barre, working on moves, and they all looked up.
“Pointe shoes on,” Vanessa said to me.
I ran to get my pointe shoes. Then Lily grabbed my arm and pulled me to the corner of the room, away from the Bunheads and Vanessa. We sat down to put on our shoes.
“Hey,” Lily said quietly. “How did that go?”
“I think okay,” I said, pulling on my shoe.
“Well, it wasn’t your fault,” Lily said.
“It’s not not my fault,” I said.
“It’s our whole team’s fault,” Lily said, lacing up her ribbons. “I don’t blame you. It’s kind of hard to say no to three people who have been here forever.”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “Hopefully, we can just be a team from now on.”
“Yeah, right. The Bunheads want their chance to rule now that the Bells are gone,” Lily said.
“Actually, I talked to Megan last night and—”
Vanessa clapped her hands.
“To the barre!” she ordered. “We’ve wasted enough time on shenanigans. I’m going to work you hard today.”
I hurriedly tied the ribbons around each ankle in a knot and tucked them in neatly.
“Time to suffer,” Lily whispered. “Ugh, pointe.”
I actually loved ballet technique class and had especially since I’d gone on pointe. Dancers have a love/hate relationship with going on pointe. When I was little, I couldn’t wait for the rite of passage when my teacher told me I was ready to go en pointe. It seemed like something only the older, “real” ballerinas were able to do. When I was eleven, that magical moment came! Getting my first pair of pointe shoes and learning to support my entire bod
y on my toes was so exciting, and I felt like I was finally on the level of the older dancers.
I still loved the feeling of pulling on my pointe shoes. Dancing in them . . . love/hate. They’re not the most comfortable at first—actually, painful. It takes a while to get used to them. But you feel like a real ballerina, able to spin and twirl on your toes. You feel strong and powerful. I needed anything to make me feel strong and powerful these days.
Also, the classes are hard. Which actually would be a good thing right now. I would have to focus and do my movements precisely, so I couldn’t think about anything else. Not the parade, the Bunheads, the Bells, or my move. Just dancing.
We all placed our hands on the barre, barely gripping it, and it quivered slightly as we started to move. We did the positions and moved to pliés.
“And plié,” Vanessa commanded. “Remember to stand up straight and engage your core muscles. Plié combos! Harper! Watch those knees!”
We transitioned to larger movements of the leg, circling them in rond de jambes, then bending them in fondus. For the next half hour, my thoughts were solely about my body movements. The tempo of the music got faster, and my muscles began to burn.
“Excellent pointed feet, Harper,” Vanessa said.
She walked around, giving corrections.
“Riley, sloppy feet! Trina, you’re wobbly! Lily, your turnout! Poor turnout breaks a dancer’s lines!”
I focused. I focused on making every little movement perfect over and over again, so I would be able to depend on muscle memory later, when I was performing. I got lost in the dance moves. I channeled all of the stress and anger from the weekend into my body.
“Very nice technique,” Vanessa said. “Everyone watch Harper’s feet!”
When class ended, I ached but in a good way.
“Megan, Riley, and Trina: Come with me when your shoes are off,” Vanessa said.
The Bunheads made a yikes face at each other and followed Vanessa out of the room.
“Well, at least class ended okay,” Lily said when the door shut. “The Bunheads are probably going to get in trouble with Vanessa.”
“I just want to put it behind us,” I said.
“Hey, you had to suffer.” Lily pointed to my knee. “They need to suffer.”
“Speaking of suffering.” I changed the subject. “That class was intense.”
The Audition Page 9
