Jessi and the Superbrat

by Ann M. Martin

  “Right,” I said quickly. “Good idea.”

  Going down to the basement and working at the barre did calm me down some. At least it gave me something to think about. My feet, for instance. I had to work through all the muscles in my toes and up through my ankles. Then, of course, I had to worry about my legs. I stretched my calves and my hamstrings and did some strengthening work. Finally I was ready to put on my toe shoes and work on my balance.

  It was a lot of work. But it did keep me occupied until it was time to get ready to leave.

  The sheet of instructions Mme Noelle had given me said that I should bring a picture and résumé to the audition. Mama had typed me a short résumé with information about the ballet schools I had gone to and about the few performances I had been in. We stapled a little snapshot of me on top.

  I looked it over. I panicked.

  “Mama!” I called frantically. “We forgot to put my telephone number on the résumé!”

  “No we didn’t, honey.” Her voice was soft and soothing. “There it is, right there.” She pointed to the top of the page. She was right. There it was.

  “But the résumé doesn’t say anything about Coppélia,” I rushed on. Coppélia was the last performance I had been in.

  Mama pointed down the résumé. There, indeed, was Coppélia. Mama had included a whole paragraph about it.

  “Oh,” I said sheepishly. I decided it was time to fix my hair.

  I went into the bathroom, brushed my hair back off my face, and pulled it up tightly with an elastic band. I looked at myself in the mirror. It didn’t look right. I pulled the elastic band out and tried it again. No good. I must have done this about ten more times when I looked up in the mirror and noticed Daddy standing behind me, watching the whole thing.

  “Having trouble?” he asked.

  “I can’t get all my hair to stay in the elastic, Daddy,” I said sullenly. I think I was sort of pouting.

  “Did you try gluing it?” Daddy smiled. Of course, he was just trying to tease me out of my mood, but I wouldn’t be comforted. Daddy put his arms around me. That felt a little better.

  “So why don’t we shave your hair all off?” he asked. “I could go get my razor right now. A little off the sides, off the top …”

  All of a sudden, the whole thing did seem kind of funny. I guess I had been getting a little carried away. I took a look at my hair in the mirror. To tell the truth, it looked just fine. I gave Daddy a kiss, changed into my leotard, and was ready to hit the road.

  The audition itself was bigger, scarier, and even more professional than I had imagined. The girls in my ballet class were right. A lot of New York dancers had shown up to try out. They were all long and lean and wore beautiful practice clothes — shiny leotards that showed off every muscle, matching leg warmers, and gauzy ballet skirts with crisp satin ties.

  All these ballerinas had their pictures and résumés in hand. Of course, their pictures weren’t little snapshots like mine. They were the same kind of fancy head shots that Derek had. Somehow, being at this audition reminded me of my very first ballet class. I remembered the feeling. Mama hadn’t had time to buy me ballet slippers, so I had had to take my first class barefoot. But once the class had started, it hadn’t mattered. I got right into concentrating on the work.

  I looked around me at the audition. Everyone was stretching out and pounding their toe shoes on the floor to soften them up. These are things that ballerinas always do before they go onstage.

  I know how to do all that, I thought confidently.

  So I took a deep breath and joined right in.

  The audition itself was actually kind of fun. They broke us up into groups and taught us some combinations of steps, some slow ones in which you had to try to be steady and graceful, and some fast ones in which you traveled across the whole stage. I wasn’t sure how I did, but I thought I did okay. After my group took its turn, I waited in the back of the theater and watched the others. There was a tight, clique-y group of ballerinas standing near me. They were watching the other groups, too. And they were making nasty comments about everyone onstage.

  “Look at her,” one of them said. “She has no balance. And look at her leg. It’s just flopping there.”

  I couldn’t help but look at the girl they pointed out. It was true, she lost her balance at one point, and it was also true that her leg wasn’t as stretched as it could be. But to tell you the truth, she was a beautiful dancer. I thought she was the best onstage.

  I moved away from the gossippers. The thing about ballet is that sometimes you come across girls who are sharks — girls who circle around, watching and waiting for someone else to fail. I guess it’s because ballet can be so competitive.

  “Jessica Ramsey.”

  What was that? Someone was calling my name. It was the stage manager. She was reading off a list of names, and the girls whose names were called were gathering at the front of the theater. I joined the group.

  “Me?” I asked the stage manager. “Did you call Jessica Ramsey?”

  The stage manager nodded.

  Now this you won’t believe. At least, I couldn’t. The names they were calling were the ones that had made it through the first audition, the dancers they wanted to see a second time.

  Me, Jessica Ramsey! They had called my name!

  “Come back next Saturday. Same time,” said the stage manager.

  You bet I’d be there!

  Daddy was waiting outside for me. I hopped in the car. I was talking a mile a minute.

  “Daddy, Daddy, I got a callback! They broke us into groups, and of course there were some gossipy ballerinas there, but Daddy, they called me back!”

  I don’t know if Daddy understood all of what I said, but he did manage to get the gist.

  When we got home, I raced to the phone to call Mallory and tell her my news.

  “That’s great!” she squealed.

  But by this time, other, shakier thoughts had started to seep into my head.

  “Oh, but Mallory, what if I’m not good enough?” I said. “And this audition business is so scary. I’m not sure I can go through it another time.”

  Mallory is my friend for a good reason. She said all the right things then. She told me all I could do was try. And she said I shouldn’t let my fears stop me from doing what I wanted in life. I knew she was right. I’d just never been this nervous about anything before.

  After Mal had calmed me down, she also told me something that Nicky said about Derek, something about how he was doing in school.

  “What?” I said. “Is it John again?”

  Mallory said Nicky told her that Derek had gotten into a fight. “Nicky said Derek threw his food all over a kid in the cafeteria.”

  “Nicky must’ve got it wrong,” I said. “That’s probably what the Superbrat did to Derek.”

  “No,” Mallory insisted. “Nicky says Derek was the one who threw the food.”

  This information did not sound good.

  “The Superbrat pushed Derek too far,” I said decisively.

  Poor Derek. Things did not sound like they were getting better at all.

  As you can see, I wasn’t the only one in the Baby-sitters Club involved in the Derek business. When Claudia took an afternoon job sitting for Derek and Todd, she jumped right into the soup. Is that what the expression is, soup? Maybe I mean stew. Now Claudia’s got me making mistakes. Well, whatever the mess was, Claudia got involved.

  When she reached the Masterses’ house, the boys had just gotten home from school. Claudia noticed that Derek looked kind of jittery. He kept chewing on his nails and, when she gave them their snack, Derek shredded his napkin into a hundred little pieces.

  “How was school today?” Claudia asked.

  Derek started in on another napkin.

  Luckily, it happened to be a beautiful, sunny afternoon. It was one of those blue-sky days, the kind that only happens a couple of times a year and when it does, you think, This is heaven. Every day shou
ld be like this. It was much too pretty to spend the whole afternoon cooped up inside, so Claudia suggested a trip to the school playground.

  “Yeah!” cried Todd. No question what his vote was.

  Derek wasn’t as enthusiastic. He scuffed his shoes around on the kitchen floor before he agreed, and Claudia noticed that when they got to the playground, Derek’s eyes darted around, taking a quick survey of the other kids who were there. Most of the kids at the playground were younger, and Derek seemed to relax a little. He straddled the seat of a swing while Claudia pushed Todd.

  “During school, I hate this playground,” Derek said sullenly.

  “You do? Why?” asked Claudia.

  “ ’Cause out here, anything can happen. The teachers aren’t really in charge and the kids can pretty much do anything they want.”

  “That’s exactly what I always liked about the playground,” said Claudia.

  “Yeah, but that means they can do anything they want to me.”

  “Oh. Right.” Claudia remembered. How could she have even forgotten?

  Derek looked around again to make sure he didn’t see anybody he knew.

  “What do the kids do to you?” Claudia asked.

  “Well …” Derek sighed. “Like the other day, I was on the monkey bars over there and I was just playing. I was hanging upside down, when this guy John came over and pushed my legs off the bar.”

  “Really?” Claudia gasped. “That’s terrible!”

  “I landed right on my head,” said Derek. He pushed his hair back to show her where. “Do you see a bump?”

  “Not really.” Claudia squinted. She parted his hair and combed her fingers over his scalp.

  “It must’ve healed,” said Derek.

  “Still,” said Claudia. “That’s horrible.”

  Derek heaved another big sigh.

  “Yeah, and then another time, when I was on my way into the school in the morning, John grabbed my book bag, dumped all my stuff onto the ground, and stole my math homework.”

  “He stole your homework!” Claudia was aghast. Probably because Claudia isn’t the best student in the world and she appreciates how hard it is to do homework in the first place. “Well, what did you do?” she asked.

  “What could I do?” asked Derek. “When Mr. Rossi asked us to pass in our homework, I didn’t have any to turn in. I told him I forgot it at home.”

  Claudia shook her head. She could relate.

  “Did the teacher call your parents?” she asked. That would be Claudia’s worst nightmare.

  “No,” said Derek. “I just had to bring it in the next day.”

  “Well, do the kids ever let you play with them?” asked Claudia.

  “Once,” said Derek. “They were playing catch. I asked if I could play, too, and they said yes. John tossed me the ball, and I couldn’t believe it. I thought, ‘This is great.’ But when I caught the ball, something sticky got on my fingers. John had stuck ABC gum all over the ball.”

  “Ick,” Claudia said. “Already-been-chewed.”

  “Right,” Derek answered.

  Claudia gave Todd another big push.

  “Oh, no!” Derek said suddenly. He turned backwards on the swing and tucked his chin down to hide his face.

  “What is it?” asked Claudia.

  Derek shushed her.

  Claudia looked in the direction Derek had turned from. Four boys on bicycles had just ridden onto the playground. They looked like they were about Derek’s age. They circled the monkey bars and reared the fronts of their bikes up as if they were cowboys riding wild horses. They headed for the swing set.

  “Oh, no,” Derek said again.

  “From your class?” asked Claudia.

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “They’re not going to bother you while I’m here.”

  When the boys reached the swing set, they hopped off their bikes. Derek turned back around. He sat up straighter.

  “Hi,” he said cautiously.

  “Hi,” the boys replied.

  Then nobody said anything. The boys stared at Derek. He stared at the ground. Claudia knew that it’s usually best to let kids try to work things out for themselves, but after awhile, when everybody was still standing there not saying anything, she just had to jump in. That’s when she got her great idea.

  “Would you like to join us?” she asked the boys. “I’m Claudia, the baby-sitter, and this is Todd. We were just about to head back to Derek’s house. Do you want to come over?”

  Derek stared at Claudia, dumbfounded. Each of the boys looked at another.

  “Yeah,” one said finally. “Sure.”

  Claudia smiled. That boy was obviously the ringleader. She figured he was probably the infamous John.

  Claudia’s idea to invite the boys over was a smart one. She had a hunch that it would be good for them to see where Derek lived. They’d see that he was just a regular kid living in a regular house in Stoneybrook.

  On the way to the Masterses’ house, the boys walked their bikes alongside Derek. Claudia held Todd’s hand and walked a little ways away. She kept her ears open, though. The boys still didn’t say much of anything.

  One sort of muttered, “This the way?”

  Another commented briefly, “Hey, I know somebody on this block.”

  Well, at least what they did say seemed friendly enough.

  When they got to Derek’s house, Claudia turned into the front walk.

  “This is where you live?” asked one of the boys. His mouth was hanging open like he’d just seen a blue elephant.

  “Yeah,” said Derek.

  “I thought you lived in a Disneyland castle or something,” the boy said.

  Claudia had to stop herself from laughing out loud.

  She let the boys inside. They were all eyes. When she described their reaction to me, it sort of reminded me of the first time I went to Derek’s house. (I wonder if the boys noticed all the old newspapers and the pile of dirty dishes.) The boys looked around at this regular house in total surprise.

  “Wow!” one said. “A house.”

  Derek invited the kids up to his room to play. Claudia decided it would be best if she stayed out of the way a little while. So she and Todd settled into a chair in the living room with a couple of picture books. That would be good for Todd anyway, she figured. Derek gets so much of the attention so often, Todd could use some cozy one-to-one time.

  As she turned the pages of Todd’s books, she could hear laughter drifting down from Derek’s room. It wasn’t mean laughter, either. She could hear that boy laughing, the one she figured was John, and she could hear Derek joining right in. As she sat there, Claudia congratulated herself. She figured she’d solved the Superbrat problem once and for all.

  After awhile the boys trooped down the stairs.

  “Hey, Derek, that was fun,” one said.

  “Yeah, I never played that game before,” said another.

  “I got it in California,” said Derek.

  “Wow. Cool. See you in school tomorrow, okay?”

  The boys had obviously had a good time. They waved a quick good-bye to Claudia and ran outside to their bicycles. Derek stood at the doorway, waving, as his new friends coasted down the driveway and skidded out onto the sidewalk. When he closed the door, he was all smiles.

  “Hey,” said Claudia, “not bad, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Derek said. He looked truly amazed. “They liked me. We had fun.”

  “So which one was John?” Claudia asked. She could hardly wait to get the information.

  “John?” Derek looked puzzled. “Oh. John. None of them,” he said. “John isn’t friends with them.”

  Derek wandered back up to his room. He looked a little dazed from the events of the afternoon. Dazed, but happy.

  Well, Claudia thought, she hadn’t exactly solved the Superbrat problem, but she had helped some of the boys to be friends with Derek, and that was a good start.

  “See you tomorrow in
school,” they had said.

  Not bad for one afternoon of baby-sitting.

  The next Saturday was the day of my second audition. I also had another job scheduled at the Masterses’. Mrs. Masters had offered to pick me up after the audition and bring me straight to their house. You can bet my parents went for that idea in a big way. They end up carting me around so much for my classes that I think they sometimes feel like a ballet chauffeur service.

  I told Mrs. Masters where the theater was and what time to come, and sure enough, when I came down from the stage after my audition, I spotted her and Derek standing at the back of the theater. I waved to them and they waved back.

  “Jessica Ramsey.”

  It was the stage manager again, calling my name from the front row of seats. She was sitting next to the choreographer, who was leaning over her, writing something on her pad. For a moment, I felt pretty scared.

  It was time to take myself in hand and give myself another little talk.

  Come on, I said to myself. They’re not going to wait all day while you stand here trying to find your legs.

  “Yes?” I asked when I reached them. My voice cracked as the word came out.

  “Miss Ramsey,” said the stage manager. “Congratulations. You’ve survived another round. We’d like to see you again next Saturday for the final audition.”

  “Really?” I squeaked. “I mean, thank you. I mean, I’ll see you next week. Thank you very much.”

  I backed away, all smiles. Then I grabbed my bag, slipped my pants on over my tights, and ran to the back of the theater, where Derek and his mother were waiting.

  “You made the cut?” Derek asked. “They asked you back?” I guess he could tell by the big smile that had taken over my face.

  “Yup,” I said. “Just one more audition to go.”

  Mrs. Masters gave me a hug of congratulations and Derek slapped me five. As we walked out of the theater to the car, Derek nudged me and pointed to the clique-y group of girls who were again standing at the back of the theater, huddled and whispering.