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Authors: Sheryl Berk

On Pointe (2 page)

BOOK: On Pointe
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“You're late!” she barked as Scarlett, Bria, Anya, and Gracie raced through the ballet studio door at 5:02 p.m. “Class starts at five p.m. sharp. Where are the rest?”

Liberty and Rochelle practically knocked each other over to get through the door at the same time.

“Here!” Liberty shouted. “I would have been here sooner, but my mom had to put me on hold. Rihanna was on the other line.”

Rochelle muttered under her breath, “Name dropper,” then took her spot at the
barre
next to Scarlett. “I think you should ask Toni about
The Nutcracker
,” she told her friend.

“Me? Why me?” Scarlett whispered. She hated the idea of having to break the news to her teacher that Marcus was back on the dance scene.

“She likes you—and you're our fearless leader,” Rochelle said, giving her a shove forward. “Go on!”

Scarlett took a deep breath. “Miss Toni, uh, we were just wondering …”

“I was wondering, too,” Toni said, interrupting. “I was wondering why we are wasting so much time today instead of beginning our ballet exercises at the
barre
. How can any of you expect to be real dancers one day if you don't put in the work now?”

All the girls gulped as they prepared for one of Miss Toni's famous lectures.

“And how are any of you going to get a principal role in
A New Jersey Nutcracker
if you don't practice?” she continued.

Anya gasped. “But—but how did you know?”

Toni smiled. “Who do you think put up that flyer on the bulletin board? I expect my Divas to represent our studio at that audition in a week and take every one of those lead roles.”

Rochelle groaned. It was just like Toni to turn any situation—even a lovely holiday ballet—into a competition. “So you're cool with us doing it? Even if it means we'll be busy with rehearsals and performances?”

“You will make up every single class you miss here at Dance Divas,” she said. “Being in
The Nutcracker
is a bonus for you. Icing on the cake.”

“Sounds like tons more work to me,” Bria whispered. “And I'm barely able to keep up with my homework as it is!”

“The ballet's performances are over the holiday break, so we won't have any competitions until after the new year,” Toni said. “I think it's an
excellent way to keep you on your toes when you're out of my sight.”

Anya's hand went up. “But what if we don't get cast?”

Toni's smile faded. “
That
,” she said, and paused to look at each of the girls before continuing, “is not an option.”

The Divas were used to seeing tons of dancers at competitions almost every weekend, but never this many people in one place. The rehearsal space at Dances Minnelli was packed with kids of all ages who all wanted the same thing.

“My name is Amanda and I want to play Clara,” said a short girl with dark brown hair scooped into a high ponytail. She wore a crop top that read
DANCE, SLEEP, REPEAT
and leopard-print leggings. She gave all her information to Miss Andrea, the polite young woman taking the applications one by one.

“And where do you dance?” Miss Andrea smiled sweetly.

“Carrie B's School of Hip-Hop,” Amanda replied proudly.

The woman rested her glasses on the tip of her nose. “No, I mean ballet, dear.”

“I don't really take ballet lessons, so to speak,” Amanda replied. “But I am really flexible!” She dropped and did a handstand—on one hand.

“Hmm, okay. Make your way into studio two for ages ten and up.”

“This is ridiculous,” Liberty said, adjusting a bobby pin in her bun. “Am I the only qualified dancer here?”

Hayden elbowed Rochelle. “Promise me you won't hurt yourself again and leave me dancing with her.” He pointed to Liberty.

“Promise!” Rochelle smiled, squeezing his hand. “We're a shoo-in for Clara and the prince.”

“Think again,” Liberty replied. “A friend of a friend of my mom's called and spoke to Mr. Minnelli himself. He can't wait to cast me.”

“Cast you as what?” Rochelle fired back. “I doubt there's a costume large enough to fit your big head.”

Hayden stepped between them. “Girls, play nice.”

“Hayden's right,” Scarlett said, backing him up. “We promised Miss Toni we'd be on our best behavior.”

Rochelle shrugged. “She started it.”

Miss Andrea handed each girl a number to pin on their leotards.

“I'm number seventy-five. How about you?” Anya asked Scarlett.

“Number one hundred seventeen. This is crazy! How many hundreds of people are auditioning?”

“Speak for yourself,” Liberty said, flexing her feet in her toe shoes. “A little competition never scares me.”

“There's competition, and there's
competition
,” Bria said. “I'm number two hundred eighty-one. I'm not even sure I'll get to audition at all today.”

Just then, a dapper-looking man with graying hair and a pink bow tie pushed between the rows of dancers. “Pardon me, coming through,” he said, waving a walking stick in the air.

Gracie smiled. “That's a really cool stick,” she said, admiring the silver-tipped handle.

The man stopped in his tracks. “You think so?” he asked her. “Well, you have extremely good taste. Her Highness herself gave it to me.”

“The queen of England?” Gracie asked. “Did you meet her?”

“I was referring to the great Cynthia Gregory, America's
prima ballerina assoluta
. She gifted it to me when I choreographed her at San Francisco Ballet.”

“Oh.” Gracie giggled. “Does she have a crown? 'Cause if not, I could make her one with some cardboard and tin foil. If my mom would let me. Last weekend she said my art projects make too much of a mess.”

The man's eyes grew wide. “You're quite a gabber aren't you, little girl?”

“What's a gabber?” Gracie replied. “It's not something mean is it? Because my sister, Scoot, always says if you don't have something nice to say, you shouldn't say anything at all.”

“Gracie!” Scarlett said, covering her mouth with her hand. “I'm so sorry, sir. Whenever Gracie gets nervous, she can't stop talking.”

Gracie wiggled free of her grasp. “I'm not nervous! I'm going to get the part of Clara and eat all the candy I want,” she declared proudly.

“Is that so?” the man asked. “We shall see.” Then he winked and continued toward the dance studio at the end of the hallway.

“Who was that?” Rochelle asked.

Bria held up her phone. “
That
was Mr. Minnelli. See—his picture is on the Dances Minnelli website.”

“Gracie,” Scarlett scolded her. “Why did you bother him? You may have just blown all of our chances to get a lead!”

“I did not,” Gracie insisted. “He was the one who said I was a grabber.”

“A gabber, not a grabber,” Scarlett corrected her. “Honestly, if you can't act like a big girl, you don't belong here auditioning.”

Gracie crossed her arms over her chest. “I
am
a big girl. I'm almost eight. So there!” She marched ahead of Scarlett to where Miss Andrea was lining up the younger dancers. As she walked into the studio, she stuck her tongue out at her big sister.

“She drives me nuts!” Scarlett sighed, leaning on Rochelle's shoulder. Her toe shoes were pinching from standing in them for so long.

“Don't you mean she drives you nutcrackers?” Rochelle teased her.

“I don't know how you guys can joke around at a time like this,” Anya said. She had already stretched several times and was now doing deep
pliés
against the wall. “Aren't you nervous?”

“I don't get nervous,” Liberty bragged.

But Anya noticed that Liberty was drumming her foot on the floor.

Miss Andrea stood on a chair and clapped her hands to get everyone's attention. “May I please have numbers one through one hundred in studio one; one hundred one through two hundred in studio two; and two hundred one through three
hundred in studio three,” she shouted over the noise. “Does everyone know where they're supposed to be?”

Liberty and Anya headed for the first door while Scarlett, Rochelle, and Hayden went to the second. Bria was the only one of the Divas in the third group.

“Break a leg!” she called after them.

Chapter 3
And 5, 6, 7, 8 …

The youngest dancers were all seated on the floor of studio four when Miss Andrea and Mr. Minnelli walked in. The ballet mistress, Miss Noreen, was taking attendance.

“I need Olivia, Julia, Alexa, Madison, and Gracie over here,” she said, pointing to the center of the floor. “Please stand in first position.”

The girls all stood up and took a spot in front of the mirrors. Gracie skipped over and waved to Mr. Minnelli.

“I'm going to teach you a little combination,” Miss Noreen explained. “Everyone watch, because
you'll have to do it, too,” she instructed the other children gathered on both sides of the room.

The routine was fairly simple:
balancé
, a
pirouette
, and a
grand plié
.

While the others struggled, Gracie mastered it in minutes.

“Nice, Gracie.” Miss Noreen wrote on her clipboard. “You pick choreography up quickly.”

“It's easy-peasy.” Gracie smiled. Mr. Minnelli couldn't help but chuckle.

“Do you want to try something that's not so easy-peasy?” he asked her.

“Sure!” Gracie beamed. “Bring it on!”

He nodded at Miss Noreen, who asked the rest of the group to take a seat while she taught Gracie a combination.

“Now take it slow,” she instructed her. “It's very complicated.” She did the step alongside her as she called out, “
En face ballonné devant
, step left,
coupé derrière sauté
, step right,
coupé derrière sauté
!”

The other kids scratched their heads, but Gracie mimicked her perfectly. At the end, she gave a
graceful curtsy. “How was that?” she asked Mr. Minnelli.

“Fine. Fine indeed!” he said, impressed. “Where do you study?”

“In my bedroom mostly—sometimes on the couch but my mom says I shouldn't do my homework while watching TV 'cause then I don't pay attention and I get the answers wrong.”

Miss Andrea and Miss Noreen both giggled. Mr. Minnelli cleared his throat. “No, dear, I mean where do you study dance?”

“Oh! Why didn't you say so?” Gracie replied. “At Dance Divas. My teacher is Miss Toni and she's fantabulously talented and really pretty and she let me join the team with my sister, Scoot.”

Mr. Minnelli raised an eyebrow. “You have a sister named Scoot?”

“Well, I call her Scoot, but it's really Scarlett. Scoot's
funner
, don't you think?”

“I do.” Mr. Minnelli nodded. “And I think you may just be the
funnest
audition I have seen so far today.”

Gracie smiled wide. “Can I have some candy now?”

BOOK: On Pointe
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