Uri laughs. “You look overwhelmed. First time?” His Israeli accent is lilting and friendlier than I remember from our week in New York. Maybe because this isn’t a competition. His dark olive skin and tousled brown hair give him that effortless Mediterranean look. He looks a bit like Marco Bethelo.
“Is it that obvious?” I ask, unwrapping my sandwich and taking a bite.
“I went to Houston ballet’s intensive last year,” Becky pipes up. “The food there was pretty awful, I’m hoping it’s better here.”
Uri looks at his friends and laughs. “That’s a valid concern,” a gangly, freckled guy at the table calls out. “Don’t worry, the food here is pretty decent. I’m Thomas, by the way.” Thomas waves before Uri introduces us to the rest of the table. It turns out that Thomas is Gloria’s twin brother. There’s also Noah and a gorgeous dark-skinned girl named Elena.
“You look familiar,” Gloria says, peering at me.
“I was at the YIGP finals with you last month.” Was I that forgettable? The insecurity I’ve been fighting off since I came home from New York resurfaces, settling like a brick in my stomach. I put my sandwich down, appetite gone.
“Oh my god, yes! I knew I knew you. You hung out with Martin, right?” Well, at least my friend wasn’t forgettable, unlike me.
“Yeah, our teachers are friends, so we had some extra rehearsal time together before the competition started.”
Becky’s stare from across the table sends heat flooding to my cheeks. Uri eyes me thoughtfully. “That’s right, I recognize you now. You did the Aurora variation, right?” At my nod, Uri smiles. “You gave us a run for our money, remember babe?” He says the last bit to Gloria, poking her in the ribs. I can’t relax until Becky looks away, eyeing the couple as they tickle each other. I’m not sure what it is, but Becky makes me nervous.
“Knock it off!” Gloria laughs, pushing Uri away. “So, did you guys know each other before? Obviously, I know this turd,” Gloria points a thumb at her brother, “Elena is my roommate and Noah is rooming with Thomas. I think they found Uri out on the street somewhere and invited him in out of pity.” Gloria winks at Uri when she says this. He tosses a balled-up napkin at her face, before reaching up to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.
“She’s kidding. We met here last year, she was my partner in pas de deux class. We’ve been together ever since, most of it long-distance. I’m from Tel Aviv,” Uri explains, although Lisa and I already knew that. “We both competed at the New York Finals, mostly so we had an excuse to see each other.” He grins, explaining the story to Becky and Lisa.
Gloria laughs and smacks the hand he has snaked around her waist. “That wasn’t the reason, don’t be ridiculous, sweet cheeks.”
“That is the sweetest story I have ever heard.” Becky sighs. “I was too nervous to eat alone, so I tagged along with Hannah and Lisa after our class.”
“Lisa and I have danced together forever,” I add, nudging Lisa under the table. She looks up from her phone and smiles at everyone, swallowing the bite of salad she took. My money’s on it being Hunter she’s busy texting.
Gloria and Yuri regale us with stories from the finals while we eat lunch. Interestingly, they don’t talk about the fact that they both placed. Most of their stories are about the trouble they got up to in New York City between the competition and classes. I was so busy with my parents and Ms. Parker I never noticed all the things Gloria and Uri were up to. I’m shocked that they could goof off so much and still do as well as they did. From their stories you could assume that they don’t take dance seriously, but I know from class and on stage that’s not true at all.
Maybe they’re just better at letting go and having fun than I am.
Gloria reminds me a bit of Olivia, the kind of person who gathers people up in their circle. I’ve never understood how they can direct everyone else to have fun, and somehow, we find ourselves following along and liking it? It’s the strangest kind of magic. I never minded it with Olivia when we were younger, because the fun was always worth it. Katy’s brother Jack is another one of those people. A ringleader, the director of the show, the master of ceremonies.
Hours later, Lisa and I are waiting in our room, exhausted from the afternoon classes and lectures, legs resting on the wall next to our respective twin-sized beds when our phones buzz simultaneously. “Do you think that’s Katy? Or do you think it’s the class list?” she asks, I know she’s afraid to look.
“Katy wants to know if we found out yet,” I say from my bed.
“What level do you think we’ll be in?” she asks, needing reassurance.
“I don’t know, but I hope we end up together. Would it be better to be the best one in a lower level or the worst one in a higher level?” I’m asking her but I’m really asking myself. I want to say that I’d rather be placed in a higher level so I could prove to everyone that I deserve to be here, that I have what it takes. But I’m well-aware of the effect that too much pressure has on me, and I’m terrified of being placed in the highest level and buckling.
“I’m resigned to being in a lower level than you. We’d still get to eat together and we’d be together here. It’ll be fine. I want to prove to my parents that it wasn’t a waste of my summer to come,” Lisa says. “I want to see where I stack up against other people my age, but I don’t want to be the worst. Can I just be right in the middle?”
How is she so calm about this? I know I’ve been dying to go away to a professional school for years, but faced with the reality, I want my best friend to be in all my classes with me.
“Do you remember the year after I won the Jean Field award?” When I was ten I won the highest award for my age group at our regional YIGP competition, it’s similar to the award I won this year but it’s more about the future potential of a dancer than their actual skill level at such a young age. Olivia likes to call it the “child prodigy award.” She’s not wrong.
“Yeah, that was right after we moved from San Francisco, right?”
“Yeah.” Lisa and her family had moved to Camarillo when we were nine, in the middle of the school year. The competition where I won the award was about a month after they joined the studio, so Lisa and I weren’t good friends yet. “The next year—after I won—I don’t know if you remember how anxious I was. I was so caught up in winning the same award again, I had it in my mind that if I couldn’t win again then I was a failure.”
“That’s right. I remember now. That girl from Nevada won, right? That was the year you placed third, right?”
“Yeah. And I was devastated. My mom had to bribe me to keep going to dance. It was almost a month before I stopped crying in the car on the way to class,” I admit. I’ve never told my friends this story before, ashamed of how ridiculous I’d been.
Almost as ridiculous as I was after I didn’t place at the YIGP finals last month. I’d skipped dance for almost a week after getting back, unable to face my classmates feeling like a failure.
“So, you think you’d rather be the best one in a lower level?” Lisa asks, turning her head towards me so I can see her face. I sit up, reaching over to grab the charging cable draped across the desk on my side of the room. My desk is littered with pointe shoes and a couple dance magazines. Lisa’s, on the other hand, is a pristine array of her laptop, some notebooks, and her rainbow assortment of pens.
I nod. “Yeah, I think so. It’s my, our, first time at such a big intensive. I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of pressure this summer.” I trail off, my mind sifting through all the thoughts competing for my attention. “Yeah, I think I’d rather spend my summer focused on being my personal best, rather than trying to be the absolute best. That sounds like more fun.” If I keep telling myself this, eventually I’ll believe it, right?
“When you put it like that, I have to agree. I want to be challenged and see where I stand, that’s all.” My phone buzzes against the desk,
a glance at the screen reminds me of the other reason why I want to be able to relax a little while I’m here.
Trevor: Status report?
Trevor: Ugh, why does it always sound so much better in my head than it does in writing? I swear I’m not a Trekkie.
Trevor: I wanted to hear how the first day went, let me know when you’re free to chat, okay? I have news for you. (Good news, I think)
Chapter Four
Katy
I scroll through the messages from Hannah and Lisa, gushing over the classes they’ve had so far, one eye on the time in the corner. I should get changed to go to dance.
Except I don’t want to go. I didn’t wake up until almost noon today, and the only reason I even got out of bed was because my room was too hot. I’ve been down here, stretched out on the couch ever since and to be honest, I don’t want to go anywhere. Going to dance sounds like so much work.
I should go. Everyone is expecting me to go because that’s what I do, right? I’m a dancer. If Lisa and Hannah were here it wouldn’t even be a question, of course I would go.
“Hey Bug, we’re going to go to a movie, you want to come? Or do you have dance?” Hunter’s upside down head pops into my field of vision.
“Who’s we?” I ask, flipping onto my stomach. “You and Jack or…”
Hunter looks at his phone. “Us, Tyler, Olivia, JJ, I think maybe Drew? Why?”
“Just wondering.” I shrug. If Olivia is skipping class to go, then maybe I won’t feel so bad for not being there. Besides, if she’s not going, then I would be the only one of us four there and that sounds like the pits. Ballet class is fun because my friends are with me. Mutual suffering is a true bonding experience. I looked at the schedule for the summer, since Hannah and Lisa are gone, Ms. Parker combined all of our classes with the group below us. I don’t know if I can take a whole summer of the younger girls’ incessant chatter and stupid questions.
How many times does Ms. Parker need to go over an exercise before they can get it inside their thick skulls? Yeah, going to a movie sounds infinitely better than going to class. “Sure, when are we leaving?”
Hunter glances at the time. “In thirty minutes? I assume you can be ready by then?”
“You would assume correctly.” I roll off the couch, catching myself on my hands and feet, heh, nice Spiderman move, and head upstairs to get dressed. It takes me longer than it should to decide between wearing shorts and a crop top, or a dress. Braving the overprotective “charms’’ of my brothers, I pull on a pair of high-waisted jean shorts and a cute striped crop top. I grab an oversized cardigan too, because it’ll be cold inside the movie theater and so that my brothers don’t complain about the way my shorts just cover my butt.
“Shotgun!” Hunter bellows the second I step out of my room. “Jack’s driving,” he adds, before darting outside. Grumbling, I lock the front door and follow him, sliding into the backseat, sitting in the middle seat like I always do. “We’re picking up JJ, by the way.” Hunter throws over his shoulder at me as I buckle in.
“Oh. Okay. I’ll slide over once we get her.” I slip my cardigan off as Jack starts the engine, the sweltering interior of the car too hot to stand keeping it on any longer. Hunter and Jack joke with me while we drive to JJ’s house. Jack doesn’t need to use the GPS on his phone to get there. How many times has he been here? And why does that make me jealous?
“Wait…” I pipe up from the backseat as we pull onto a familiar street. “JJ lives on Hannah’s street? But that means Drew is like, two streets over. Why didn’t she get a ride with him?” When you’ve had to listen to Drew go on and on and on about the running route he takes every day, it doesn’t take a Lisa or Hunter-level genius to figure out where he lives, or that the house with the car covered in Marvel and DC decals belongs to Hannah’s dad.
Jack shrugs. “Because she asked me, not him. Isn’t that a good enough reason?” As her front door opens and JJ comes bounding outside, her thick blonde curls loose instead of braided back. I don’t have a comeback other than to cross my arms over my chest and glare.
“Hey,” JJ says, pulling open the door to my right. With a sigh, I unbuckle my seatbelt and pull myself over to sit behind Jack, making space. As I sit, I catch Hunter’s disapproving glare—I must have given away how short my shorts are as I moved. Oh well, what’s he gonna do about it now?
“Thanks for the ride.” JJ smiles at me before turning her charm on my brothers, oblivious to the silent argument Hunter and I are having.
Those shorts are too short Katy.
What are you going to do about it? My raised eyebrow says.
Don’t make me turn this car around and take you home, Hunter tells me with a tip of his head in Jack’s direction.
Ha! You didn’t drive, dummy. I smirk right back.
Hunter eyes Jack as he pulls away from JJ’s house, oblivious to us and chatting with JJ. He’d do it for me. And if he saw how much of your ass is hanging out the back of your shorts.
I roll my eyes as his stupid protective act and shake my cardigan at him to get him off my back. With an answering roll of his own eyes, Hunter drops it and joins in the conversation.
Ugh. Stupid brothers.
Hannah: How was class? Who came?
Me: I don’t know, I didn’t go. Went to a movie with my brothers instead.
I wait for the inevitable text full of reasons why I should have gone to class while I watch JJ and Jack look through the shoe display on the wall. Jack insisted that the four of us needed to go shopping after the movie to get gear for all this training they think they’re going to get me to do for this race. Apparently, JJ is going to do it with us. Yippee.
Hunter is trying to hide the fact that he’s texting and not paying attention to Jack’s current monologue about why one pair of sneakers is better than another. From Lisa’s lack of response to my text I assume that’s who’s on the other end of his conversation. They’re adorable, but I miss my friend’s instant responses to my texts.
JJ is listening patiently, chiming in with the occasional agreement. I watch from my side of the store, trying to figure out her angle. It’s pretty obvious that she isn’t trying to get Hunter’s attention, they have a definite “friends only” vibe, despite the story Lisa told us about what she said in Chem last year, but I can’t tell if she’s trying to flirt with Jack or not. They have a lot in common and joke a lot, but she doesn’t do that touchy thing that I notice a lot of other girls doing. You know, where they touch an arm or a shoulder. She hasn’t even flipped her hair once. Granted, it’s almost always back in a braid or a ponytail, but still. Not a giggle or a hair twirl in sight.
I can’t figure her out and it’s driving me crazy.
Hannah: You should go to class, it’ll give you something to do while we’re gone.
Something to do while they’re gone? Like I don’t have anything better to do than sit and stare at the walls while she and Lisa are at the intensive? I know it’s going to be six long weeks while they’re gone but that doesn’t mean I don’t have anything to do without them. I’m doing this freaking race, aren’t I?
I mean, I’m pretty sure I can think of something to do.
Sure, I could think of something if I tried. Dance isn’t my entire personality. Is it?
I wrack my brain, trying to think of anything else about myself that is inherently “Katy.” Does being a pain in the ass little sister count? Or making movie references?
I’m puzzling this over when Hunter comes wandering back over.
“How’s Lisa?” I ask, needling him as he tucks his phone away.
He looks up. “She’s good. They’re waiting around after dinner to find out what group they’ll be in.”
“I hope they’re in the same group. I know Lisa would be fine on her own, but I think Hannah will have a hard time dealing with the pressure if she doesn’t have Lisa there
with her.” I finger a bright pink running shoe on the display in front of me. “Hannah doesn’t always do well under pressure,” I explain when Hunter looks confused.
“Lisa said she wasn’t sure if they would, it sounds like Hannah looked good in the placement class and she wouldn’t be surprised if she gets put in the highest level.”
I shrug. Is it terrible that I don’t want to talk about ballet?
“Hey,” I blurt out. “How would you describe me?”
Hunter cocks his head. “Describe you? Like, brown hair, brown eyes? Or pain in my ass, goofball who somehow always gets her way and whose clothing choices leave something to be desired?” I don’t bother to hide my eye roll.
“Ugh! I don’t know…” I trail off, not sure what I want anymore. “Nevermind, it’s stupid.”
“Hey.” Hunter grabs my arm before I can walk away. “You know we love you, right? Pain in the ass and all.” He nods his head in Jack’s direction at his words. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I guess I’m a little lost without Hannah and Lisa here.” It’s true, I don’t know what to do with myself all day. Normally I would have spent my whole summer with those two.
Hunter eyes me, his brown eyes thoughtful. “I get that. I would feel pretty lost if Jack was gone for the whole summer. But you have dance, and you have us. JJ seems pretty cool too. Maybe it won’t be so bad.” With a patronizing pat on the head, Hunter wanders off to answer a summons from his twin, leaving me to browse a rack of hoodies. Just touching the warm, fluffy material has sweat prickling on my upper lip.
“Do you buy hoodies, or do you let them buy the hoodies and steal them?” JJ appears next to me, grinning. “If I had older brothers I wouldn’t bother,” she adds. Is she saying she wants to steal my brothers’ hoodies? That’s such a…girlfriend kind of move. Right? Is that what she’s after?
Face to Face (On Pointe Book 3) Page 3