by Sheryl Berk
“Did she say anything to you?” Rochelle asked Scarlett.
“Nope. You?”
Scarlett shrugged. It wasn’t like Toni to leave anything undecided a week before a competition—especially when they were going head to head with City Feet. She raised her hand timidly.
“Yes?” Miss Toni called on her. She was rolling the fountain into place in the center of the studio, preparing to soak them all again.
Scarlett took a deep breath. “I was just wondering if anyone will be doing a solo next weekend?”
“Absolutely,” Toni replied. She went back to tinkering with the fountain.
“Are you going to tell us who?” Rochelle pressed.
“Do I have to tell you everything?” Toni replied. “Just worry about your group number. It’s a hot mess. Keep stretching while I find a screwdriver.”
The girls looked at one another, puzzled. What was Toni up to?
“I don’t like it,” Rochelle whispered. “First the secret phone call, now this?”
She turned to Liberty. “Do you know anything about this? Did you and your Hollywood hotshot mother scheme your way into a solo?”
“Puh-lease.” Liberty groaned. “If I had a solo, I wouldn’t keep it a secret. I’d flaunt it right in your face!”
“She has a point,” Bria said.
“Then who is it?” Rochelle pondered. No one else outside of the group was prepared to be on their competition team. Unless . . .
Hayden bounded into the room. “Hey, Divas!” he said, tossing his bag and cap on the floor. He looked right at Rochelle and grinned. “What’s up, Rock?”
Rochelle froze mid–port de bras, her hands dangling above her head.
“Snap out of it, Rock.” Scarlett elbowed her. “Speak!”
“Up!” she blurted out. “I mean, nothing. Nothing’s up.” She quickly dropped her arms to her sides.
Liberty pushed in between them. “So, we were wondering . . . has Miss Toni talked to you about doing a solo at Leaps and Bounds next weekend?” Leave it to Liberty to get straight to the point.
“A solo? I’ve got my hands full learning two duets. Now she wants me to do a solo, too?” Hayden scratched his head. “Is your dance coach usually this—”
“Crazy? Definitely!” Bria piped up. “None of us were assigned a solo, so we thought it must be someone new. Like you.”
Hayden shrugged. “She hasn’t said anything to me.”
Miss Toni returned to the studio, water hose in hand. “Hayden! Just the person I needed!”
Aha! Rochelle thought. He is getting a solo!
Instead, Toni handed him the hose. “Stand here and hold this tight. Be right back.”
Hayden twirled the hose in his hand. “Let me guess . . . I’m supposed to be an elephant . . .” He held the hose up to his face, letting it swing in front of him. Suddenly, a blast of water sent the hose flying, whipping around the studio.
“Catch it! Catch it!” Scarlett screamed. But it was out of control, covering the walls and mirrors with a shower of water.
“I’ve got it!” Rochelle said, trying to tackle the hose as it flew past her. It was as slippery as a snake.
“Wait! I’ve got it!” Hayden called, leaping in the air.
They collided midair, landing with a thud on the floor, just as Miss Toni had shut off the valve. She came into the room to see what all the commotion was about while the hose fell flat to the floor.
“Didn’t I say to hold it?” she yelled at Hayden. He was sitting in a huge puddle on the floor next to Rochelle. Bria and Liberty had ducked behind a pile of floor mats, and Gracie and Scarlett were hiding under the piano.
“Sorry?” Hayden gulped.
“Look at this studio! It’s a disaster area!” Toni fumed. “Get it cleaned up now. And you . . .” She turned to Rochelle. “Stay.”
Chapter 6
Filling Toni’s Shoes
As the Divas and Hayden hustled to get paper towels and a mop, Rochelle stood dripping wet waiting for Miss Toni to tell her off. She assumed her teacher would blame her for the hose mishap. But instead, Toni handed her a CD.
“I want you and Hayden to practice your routine as much as possible,” she said.
“Really?” Rochelle could hardly believe it. Did this mean she was giving her the duet? Had she actually beaten Liberty? She had a million questions, but all she could manage to say was, “Thanks!” excitedly.
“I think you two have great chemistry,” Toni continued. “But chemistry isn’t enough to win. Not against City Feet.”
Rochelle nodded. “Gotcha.”
Just then Toni’s phone rang. “Yes, this is Toni . . .,” she said before wandering off to a corner out of earshot.
Rochelle tried to make out a few words. She heard: “need a change,” “flight to L.A.,” and “winning team.”
When she returned, Rochelle didn’t let on that she had been listening in on the conversation. “I have to go out of town suddenly for a few days, and I don’t want you to lose any rehearsal time,” Toni told her.
“Out of town? But we just learned the choreography! How can we do this without you?”
Toni smiled ever so slightly. “Why, Rochelle. Are you saying you actually need a dance coach? I thought you preferred to do your own thing onstage rather than listen to me.”
“I do. I mean, I don’t. I mean, we don’t know the entire dance yet,” Rochelle sputtered. How could Toni actually think of abandoning them now? The duet was all over the place and the group number—in Toni’s words—was a hot mess. Even Hayden had said they needed to “smooth out the bumps.” So how would they do that without Toni?
“I suppose I could get another dance instructor to step in for a few days . . .” Toni was talking to herself as she flipped through the contacts on her phone. She dialed a number, tapping her foot anxiously. “Fernando? It’s Toni Moore. What are you doing this week? I need someone to come whip my dance team into shape.”
Rochelle pictured a sinister lion tamer cracking a whip as the Divas cowered onstage.
“No? You’re too busy. Thanks anyway.”
She heard Miss Toni trying number after number, pleading with someone—anyone—to help the Divas get competition-ready.
“We can do it without a coach,” Rochelle spoke up. “We know what you like and how you like it.”
Toni put her phone down. “You think so, huh?” She gave Rochelle a long, hard stare. “I’ve never left you girls on your own before.”
“We’re not on our own,” Rochelle insisted. “We have one another.”
“Fine,” Toni gave in. “I don’t seem to have any other takers. But I expect it to be flawless. And since you’re so sure of yourself, Rochelle, you can be in charge of the team till I return.”
She grabbed her tote bag and tossed Rochelle a towel. “This studio better be dry and the group routine better be in great shape.”
With that, she dashed out, ignoring the rest of the Divas as they came in to clean up.
Oh no, Rochelle thought. What have I done? Did I just volunteer to take over for Toni?
“Where was Toni going in such a hurry?” Bria asked. “Is she really mad at us for turning the studio into a swamp?”
Rochelle shook her soggy curls. “No, I don’t think so. She got a call and then she seemed to be in a big hurry. Something about L.A. and a change of scenery.”
“What?” Scarlett gasped. “She said that? What else did she say?”
Rochelle tried to remember. “All I could make out was ‘winning team’ and the fact that she had to leave right away.”
“You don’t think . . .,” Bria whispered.
“What? What?” Gracie piped up. “What don’t we think?”
Liberty put her hands on her hips. “Hello? Do I need to draw a picture for you guys?” She grabbed a marker and started writing on Miss Toni’s dry-erase board. “Let’s review,” she began, trying to sound teacherly. Rochelle rolled her eyes.
“Number one, no one
has a solo and we are a week away from Leaps and Bounds.” She wrote the word solo on the board and drew a big red X through it. “Number two, Miss Toni got a mysterious phone call.” She drew a giant question mark.
“Can you get to the point?” Rochelle complained.
“And number three, she’s suddenly rushing off to L.A. on a secret mission.” She wrote L.A. with a large exclamation point next to it. “Toni is abandoning Divas for a new dance studio in L.A. That’s why she hasn’t bothered choreographing a solo or even finished teaching us the duets. She doesn’t care.”
Everyone was silently mulling over Liberty’s diagram. It was a horrible thought, but it did make sense. Toni had been behaving stranger than usual lately—and she had hurried off without any explanation.
“I know Toni can do some crazy, spontaneous things sometimes, but I don’t think she would just dump the Divas,” Scarlett piped up. “I think she cares about all of us a lot.”
Rochelle nodded. “There has to be another reason. She’s gone, so let’s go check out her desk and see if she left any clues.”
They spent a few minutes going through Toni’s drawers and notebooks. “I don’t see anything in here that says ‘dump the Divas,’ ” Rochelle pointed out. She held up a costume sketch for the “After the Storm” number. “Why would she design costumes if she was going to leave us?”
“Let me see that,” Liberty said, yanking the sketch from her hand. “There are six costumes here.”
“So?” Bria asked.
“So there are only five of us. Who’s the sixth girl?”
Rochelle peered closely at the drawing. There were initials under each tattered tutu that Toni had sketched: S. B., L. M., G. B., R. H., and B. C. Then there was one more: A. B.
“Maybe A. B. means ‘a boy,’ ” Bria suggested. “Maybe it’s just Hayden.”
“In a tutu?” Hayden gulped, looking at the sketch. “Uh-uh. No way!”
“Maybe A. B. stands for ‘Absolutely Brilliant’ . . . which would be me,” Liberty suggested.
Rochelle pointed to the drawing of “L. M.” in a pale blue leotard with a tattered shawl around her shoulders. “Sorry. That’s you, Liberty Montgomery. The one in ugly blue rags.”
“There’s no use trying to figure this out,” said Scarlett, interrupting the bickering. “If Miss Toni wanted us to know what she was up to, she would have told us.”
“So what do we do now?” Bria asked. “We have no dance coach, no costumes, and we barely have a group number.”
“We just carry on and rehearse without Toni until she comes back,” Rochelle told her fellow dancers. “And we have Toni’s sketches, so we can ask our parents to help us make the costumes.”
Liberty crossed her arms over her chest. “And who left you in charge of us?”
Rochelle took a deep breath. “As a matter of fact, Toni did. She said I’m supposed to make sure the group dance is in great shape—until she gets back.”
But a single thought kept nagging at Rochelle: What if Toni didn’t come back? What if the accident with the hose had actually pushed her to the breaking point? What if she had accepted a new job in L.A. coaching a new dance team, like Liberty said? Without Toni Moore, could there be any Dance Divas?
Chapter 7
A Team of Our Own
Rochelle stared at the compact disc Toni had given her, recalling what she had said.
“Toni must have been nuts—or desperate—to leave me in charge of our team,” she told Scarlett over the phone that night.
“She trusts you. All you have to do is follow the rehearsal schedule she set up already,” Scarlett replied. “You just run the rehearsal and see where we need work.”
“Me? What about you?” Rochelle said. “I don’t want to step on your toes. You’re kind of our unofficial team leader—and you’re my BFF!”
“Rock, you would not be stepping on my toes. I’d be psyched to follow your lead.”
“Really?” Rochelle sighed. “Well, you’re probably the only one who feels that way.”
“Will you stop putting yourself down?” Scarlett insisted.
“And what about my duet with Hayden?” Rochelle added. “What if he doesn’t want to be with the Divas now that Toni’s not here?”
“I bet he wants to be with you,” Scarlett said. “And Miss Toni did say to practice a lot . . .”
Rochelle stared up at the ceiling from her bed, hoping some answers would magically appear like diagrams on Toni’s dry-erase board. She had no idea what Toni was planning or why she’d suddenly dumped all this responsibility on her shoulders.
“And don’t forget the solo,” Scarlett reminded her. “Someone from Divas has to do a solo at Leaps and Bounds. Miss Toni never did tell us who that would be.”
Suddenly, Rochelle had an idea. “I think I know how to decide who gets a solo fair and square.”
“Without hurting anyone’s feelings or making Liberty mad? How?” Scarlett asked.
“A Divas’ dance-off! We let anyone on the team who wants to do a solo bring it to the dance floor. Then we invite an audience to come watch and vote. The Diva with the most votes gets to do a solo Saturday at the competition.”
“That’s brilliant!” Scarlett exclaimed. “And fun! Kind of like Dancing with the Stars, but Dancing with the Divas.”
“Exactly! We let the audience choose and get in some practice before this weekend’s competition.”
“I know what I’m gonna do,” Scarlett said. “I’ve always wanted to be the Sugar Plum Fairy in The Nutcracker.”
“Go for it!” Rochelle said. “And you think you can convince Gracie to dance onstage by herself?”
“I have an idea that might work,” Scarlett said.
“Awesome!” Rochelle hung up and jumped on her computer. She sent an e-mail to Bria, Liberty, and Hayden outlining the rules of the dance-off. “Any music, style of dance, costume, or props will be permitted. The only requirements are creativity and the desire to win!”
Her in-box instantly dinged with a message from Bria (“Great idea!”) and another from Liberty (“I am so winning that solo!”). Even Hayden responded right away: “One boy vs. five girls? Count me in!”
Then she made flyers to hang up at the studio. On a bright pink sheet of paper, she wrote:
Divas’ Dance-off!
Your votes will choose a soloist for the
Leaps and Bounds competition this weekend!
Come watch the members of the
Divas elite competitive team
battle it out in the ultimate soloist showdown!
When: Wednesday at 4:00 p.m.
Where: Dance Divas Studio
“Battle it out?” Rochelle’s mom said, reading over her shoulder. “Showdown? That sounds a little intense, don’t you think? Are you sure Miss Toni would approve?”
“Well, she’s not here, is she?” Rochelle replied. “And besides, Toni always tells us a little competition is healthy. It inspires you to be your best.”
“Competition is one thing,” her mom pointed out. “But this sounds like a boxing match. What’s your dance?”
Rochelle thought for a moment. She’d been so preoccupied organizing the dance-off, she hadn’t even considered her own routine. “I dunno,” she replied. “But it has to be something really cool, really different.”
“Do whatever you like, hon. As long as no weapons are involved.”
“Mom, you’re a genius!” Rochelle shouted, leaping up to hug her. “That’s it!”
“Oh, no.” Her mom hesitated. “I don’t like the sound of that . . .”
“I know exactly what I’m going to do.” She got a mischievous glint in her eye. “You’ll just have to come to the dance-off on Wednesday to see!”
Chapter 8
Dancing with the Divas
Rochelle had never spent so much time in the dance studio. Usually, she was out the door as soon as Miss Toni announced, “That’s a wrap for today!” But in her new position—the Divas’ substit
ute coach—she was determined to make sure every detail of their dance-off—not to mention all the routines for Leaps and Bounds—were in order.
Liberty desperately needed a pink spotlight for her solo. “I’ve searched everywhere,” she complained to Rochelle. “Do you know where the colored filters are?”
Rochelle hated to help Liberty, especially when she knew all she wanted to do was beat everyone else. But she had promised Miss Toni everything would run smoothly.
“It should be in the prop closet,” Rochelle told her.
“Don’t you think I looked there?” Liberty said grumpily. “I couldn’t find one.”
Together, they went to the closet and began rummaging through piles of costumes, shoes, and assorted props, until they found a bin labeled “lighting.”
“OMG, remember this?” Rochelle held up a neon green filter.
“How could I forget?” Liberty replied. “It was for our ‘Wizard of Oz–mosis’ routine at regionals. I was Dorothy. You were a flying monkey. It was perfect casting.”
Rochelle ignored her comment. “We all looked like aliens in that green glowing spotlight,” she recalled.
“Aliens about to barf up lunch!” Liberty added, peering through the green lens.
“Blah.” Rochelle made a gagging noise and they both cracked up. For a moment, they forgot to hate each other’s guts.
Rochelle spotted one last box they had yet to look through. She dug deep into the bottom and pulled out a pink plastic circle. “Got it!” she said. “Found the pink filter.”
Liberty grabbed it out of her hand. “Finally!” She rushed out of the prop closet, leaving Rochelle with a mess to clean up.
“Uh, you’re welcome!” Rochelle called after her. Honestly, she didn’t know how Toni did it! A dance coach’s job was never done—and never appreciated.
Wednesday afternoon rolled around, and friends, family, and fellow dancers packed into the small auditorium at the studio. Rochelle peeked through the stage curtain. “Wow! Full house!” she exclaimed. She was wearing a white, long-sleeved turtleneck leotard, and her hair was twisted into two braided buns over her ears.