Two to Tango

by Sheryl Berk

  “Oh, no!” Scarlett yelled. “Stop the music!” As Bria raced for the sound system, Scarlett ran out to her best friend.

  “Are you okay, Rock?” she asked, worried. She knew how embarrassing it was to fall during a routine. She’d done it herself in competition.

  “It hurts really bad,” Rochelle said, holding her ankle.

  In seconds, Toni was up on the stage beside her, along with Rochelle’s mom.

  Toni kneeled down to examine her. “It looks swollen. Can you put any pressure on it?” Rochelle tried to stand and winced in pain.

  “I’m so sorry, Rock,” Hayden said. “It was my dumb idea to have you do our duet.” His blue eyes looked worried and sincere.

  “I’m the one who told you to tie the sweater around your waist,” Bria said. “I’m sorry!”

  “I think we should get you to the emergency room to make sure it’s not broken,” Toni said. She too looked concerned.

  “A hospital?” Rochelle gulped. She’d never been in a hospital, and the thought of all those lights and machines and doctors terrified her.

  “Don’t worry, honey. It’ll be okay,” her mom said, holding her hand.

  Rochelle limped out of the studio, leaning on Hayden. It made her feel a tiny bit better to have his arms around her. But right now, all she could think about was one thing: What if her ankle was broken? What if she could never dance again?

  Chapter 11

  The Show Must Go On

  After waiting for hours in the emergency room of the Scotch Plains Medical Center, Rochelle was finally taken in for X-rays.

  The doctor studied her chart and examined her ankle. “Does this hurt?” he asked.

  “Ouch! Yes!” Rochelle answered, her eyes brimming with tears.

  “Well, the good news is, there’s no break. The bad news is, you have a bad sprain and you have to be off your feet and on crutches.”

  “For how long?” Rochelle asked.

  “A little while,” the doctor replied. “Four weeks.”

  Four weeks! That meant no competing in Leaps and Bounds this weekend! That meant no duet with Hayden! That meant no Divas for a month!

  “But the competition!” she moaned. “My team!”

  “Honey, you’ll be fine,” her mother said, trying to comfort her. “The doctor said you’ll be good as new in four weeks.”

  “If you stay off that foot,” Miss Toni interjected. “And I am not risking you injuring it worse by not listening to the doctor’s orders.”

  “I’m going to tape it up and splint it, and show you how to use the crutches,” the doctor continued. “I’m afraid you’ll be in a boot for a while—not your pretty dance shoes.”

  Rochelle couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She felt like her whole world was crumbling around her. She had never deserted the Divas before. They needed her! “What about the group routine? What about City Feet?”

  “Don’t worry about that. I always have a Plan B,” Toni told her. She patted her on the shoulder. “What’s important is that you’re okay.”

  As Rochelle hobbled out of the hospital room on her crutches, all her teammates were gathered in the waiting room. They had balloons, teddy bears, and Gracie was holding a giant Hershey’s Kiss.

  “Rock!” Scarlett cried, running to hug her. “We were so worried about you! Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” Rochelle said. “Just out of commission for a month.”

  “What?” Bria gasped. “You can’t dance?”

  “No, both the doctor and Toni gave me strict orders to stay off my ankle.”

  She glanced over at Liberty. “Go ahead. Celebrate. You won the duet with Hayden this weekend after all.”

  She expected Liberty to smirk or rub it in her face. But instead she said, “I didn’t want to win in that way. It’s no fun if I can’t kick your butt.”

  “We all want you to be back on your feet,” Hayden said, coming forward with a bouquet of red roses. “Especially me.”

  Rochelle blushed, but not even Hayden’s sweet sentiment could cheer her up. All she wanted was to go home and curl up in a ball on her bed and cry.

  The next day at the Divas studio only made Rochelle feel worse. All the girls were dressed and ready to run the group number while she hobbled in and sat in a chair in the corner.

  When Toni walked in the studio, she had a guest with her: Anya.

  “Divas, Hayden, I think you all know Anya Bazarov, formerly of City Feet?”

  “Formerly?” Liberty asked. “As in, she’s not on their team anymore?”

  “Precisely,” Toni replied.

  “So whose team is she on?” Scarlett asked cautiously.

  Toni gave Anya a gentle push into the center of the studio floor. “I think I’ll let her tell you.”

  The girl took a deep breath and started to explain. “What Justine did . . . telling everyone I wasn’t thirteen yet just so I could beat you guys in the Junior division . . . that was cheating.”

  Liberty nodded. “Yeah. No kidding.”

  “Well, my parents and I decided I shouldn’t be on a team with people who do that. So I quit City Feet, and we called Miss Toni.”

  “You called her?” Rochelle asked. “She didn’t steal you away from City Feet?”

  Toni frowned. “Do you girls honestly believe I would do that? I’m only trying to help Anya since she has no dance team and wants to stay in New York City. I went all the way to L.A. to talk to her and her parents and they begged me to take her. Frankly, we’d be lucky to have her—especially with Rochelle off her feet.”

  “So she’s going to be in the group number Saturday?” Scarlett asked.

  “Well, since you went through the costume sketches on my desk, you already know that,” Toni said, turning to retrieve the fountain from the back of the studio.

  “How did you know we looked in your desk?” Gracie gasped.

  Toni pointed to the bun on the back of her head. “I have eyes in here.”

  “Whoa. That is greepy!” Gracie said.

  “Translation: gross and creepy,” Scarlett whispered to her teammates.

  “And I also have robot ears that hear for miles around,” Toni called. A hush fell over the studio. “Which is greepier.”

  “So I will teach Anya the choreography, and she will fill in for Rochelle,” their teacher continued. “Where are we with the costumes?”

  Rochelle pulled a yellow skirt out of her dance bag. The fabric was torn into shreds. “Our moms helped us make these,” she said.

  “They’re not bad,” Toni said, fingering the fringe. “But they’re too pretty. They need to look like you’ve been in a hurricane. I need dirty, torn, tattered.” She took the skirt out of Rochelle’s hand and threw it on the floor. “Gracie,” she said. “Come jump up and down on this.”

  The little girl happily obeyed until the fabric was covered with dark smudges from her worn ballet slippers and wrinkles. “I want each of you to take your skirts home and do the same. Maybe even run them over with your bikes a couple of times.”

  “This is the funnest homework ever,” Gracie said, giggling.

  Rochelle sighed. She wouldn’t be biking or jumping up and down for four weeks. She’d even miss getting soaking wet in rehearsals.

  Toni turned to Liberty. “When I was in L.A., I spoke to your mother about the rain we need for our number. She generously offered to have one of her FX crew help out. We’re going to have a rain curtain that falls behind you guys—so you won’t be slipping everywhere and getting soaked.”

  Liberty beamed. Since her mother was providing the props, that meant Toni owed her a favor.

  “And if Rochelle can’t do her duet with Hayden this weekend, I can do mine, right?” she asked Toni.

  “Yes, you can do ‘Love’s First Kiss’ with Hayden, and he gets the solo—per your dance-off rules,” Toni replied. “But I am putting in two more solos that will knock the judges’ socks off. Anya will do one, and Gracie, you’ll do the other. Your cooking routine
was hot stuff.”

  Before Gracie could even hesitate, Hayden patted her on the back. “Go, Gracie!” He winked. “You and me soloing!” Gracie smiled.

  So that was it, Rochelle thought. Everyone was getting what they wanted—except for her.

  Toni must have read her mind. “And since Rochelle was such a great Divas director in my absence, I am going to make her my official assistant for Leaps and Bounds—if she thinks she can handle it.”

  Rochelle smiled. No Diva had ever “assisted” Toni. Usually one of the dance instructors or choreographers tagged along to direct the activity from the wings. It felt awesome that Toni trusted her so much—especially when she saw Liberty squirm. “Yes! I can do it!”

  “It means making sure all your teammates are set backstage at the competition; that all the music, scenery, and props are ready; that everything down to the last tiny detail is accounted for. I’ll be in the audience watching, and I won’t tolerate any mistakes.”

  Rochelle looked over at Scarlett, who was giving her two thumbs-up. “I can handle it,” she said firmly.

  Toni strolled over to the calendar on the wall and pointed to the red circle on Saturday. “We only have two days to fix these dances,” she said sternly. “I want to see sweat, and I want to see perfection.” Every head in the studio nodded. “Next stop: Leaps and Bounds.”

  Chapter 12

  Sticks and Stones

  As the Dance Divas’ bus pulled up to the entrance of a small school, Toni stuck her head out the window. There was a banner out front that read, “GO, BULLDOGS!”

  “This is it?” she asked. “This is Leaps and Bounds. Are you sure?”

  The bus driver nodded. “This is the place.”

  Rochelle hoped the GPS knew what it was doing. They’d competed in huge hotels, mammoth convention centers, even theme parks. But never before in a school.

  “This should be interesting.” Their dance coach sighed. “Remember, girls . . . and boy . . . no fraternizing with the enemy.”

  “What does that mean?” Gracie asked, tugging on Miss Toni’s coat.

  “It means if you see Justine, or Mandy or any of the other City Feet dancers, don’t talk to them.”

  Toni strode up the steps of the high school to the entrance and pushed through the big red doors. The Divas followed, heads held high, while Rochelle hobbled behind. Inside, there were already numerous dance troupes checking in at registration.

  “Where’s the stage?” Toni asked. “And the dressing rooms?”

  A boy behind the desk motioned to the right. “There is no stage. The dance competition is in the gymnasium. And the locker rooms are that-away.”

  “Seriously? Is this a dance competition or gym class?” Liberty complained.

  “We’ll make the best of it,” Toni said, grabbing their credentials and checking the lineup.

  “Sorry . . . if we knew you were coming, we would have rolled out the red carpet,” said a voice behind them.

  Toni didn’t even have to turn around. “Justine,” she said, smiling through gritted teeth. “Did you just arrive here on your broomstick?”

  “Wow,” Hayden whispered to Rochelle. “You weren’t kidding about things getting ugly between Divas and City Feet.”

  “It hasn’t even started.” Scarlett sighed, watching Mandy and the rest of her team stroll through the doors of the high school. “Here comes trouble.”

  “If she opens her mouth, I swear I’m gonna trip her with my crutches,” Rochelle said bristly.

  Mandy, the seven-year-old “Tiny Terror” of City Feet, made a beeline right for Gracie. It was much easier to pick on someone her own size. “Miss Justine says you’re a scaredy-cat—and that my aerials are way higher than yours.”

  Scarlett was about to defend her sister, but Liberty stopped her.

  “I got this,” she said, ignoring Miss Toni’s order not to talk to City Feet. “If it isn’t Mandy Mouse.” Liberty grinned. “So nice to see you and your Stinky Feet again. Would you like to congratulate us now or later for beating you today? Your choice.”

  “Ouch!” Hayden commented. “That’s gotta hurt.”

  “Sometimes I really love Liberty,” Scarlett remarked. “She always knows just what to say.”

  “I’m glad she’s on our team . . . and not theirs,” Bria added.

  “Our coach told us not to listen to you,” Mandy said with a sniff. “You’re just little mosquitoes, buzzing in our ears. BUZZ, BUZZ, BUZZ.”

  “And you know what happens to mosquitoes,” said Regan, another girl on the City Feet team. She was eleven, the same age as Scarlett, Rochelle, Liberty, and Bria, and she wore her dark hair in a short pixie cut. Rumor had it that Justine was grooming her for stardom. She clapped her hands together. “SWAT!”

  Anya suddenly stepped forward. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” she said.

  Regan froze; she and Anya had been friends on City Feet. “You’re on their team? I thought you went back home to L.A.”

  “Well, of course she is,” Liberty quipped. “She wants to be on the winning team . . . not with the losers.”

  “Well, we don’t need Anya,” Mandy shot back. “We have Addison.” A tall, blond teenage girl stepped forward. She was wearing the City Feet black-and-white satin jacket.

  “Hey,” she said simply.

  “Hay is for horses, Baddison—didn’t Miss Justine teach you that?” Liberty chuckled.

  “No, but she did teach me to do fifty fouettés in a row—which is more than you can do,” Addison replied, grinning. “Unless you’d like to prove me wrong.”

  “Anytime,” Liberty growled back.

  “Ladies, ladies,” Hayden said, pulling Liberty away from their rivals. “Can’t we all just be friends?”

  “Who’s this? Your bodyguard?” Addison taunted them.

  “Ha-ha! The Divas are scared of us! They need a bodyguard to protect them!” Mandy said, laughing.

  “You just bring it!” Rochelle exclaimed. “I am so gonna kick your butt, you mean little munchkin!” Then she remembered she was in a cast and on crutches. The entire City Feet team erupted in laughter.

  “OMG, that is too funny!” Regan laughed. “Look, Rochelle has a boo-boo! I wonder how many pirouettes you can do in that thing!” She snapped a photo of the ugly black boot on Rochelle’s foot. “I’m so posting this on Instagram!”

  Justine grabbed the iPhone out of her hand. “You’ll do nothing of the kind,” she commanded. “We do our fighting on the dance floor.” With that, she ushered her team down the hall.

  Hayden shook his head. “I take back everything I ever said about Divas not being tough.”

  “Are you proud of yourselves?” Toni asked. She had seen the whole argument go down. “Didn’t I tell you to steer clear of City Feet?”

  “Mandy started it,” Gracie tattled. “She called me a scaredy-cat.”

  “I don’t care what she said or what any of them said. We don’t stoop to their level.”

  Gracie raised her hand. “Miss Toni, does Justine really have a broomstick like you said? Is it like the one in Harry Potter?”

  Rochelle giggled. Leave it to Gracie to call Toni out!

  “No, I was making a joke. But you’re right—it wasn’t funny and it wasn’t nice. So let’s all just forget about City Feet and focus on our own team.”

  In the gymnasium, Scarlett felt the floor with her jazz shoe. It was rock hard and slippery with wax.

  “We’re not used to dancing on a floor like this,” she told Toni.

  “A dancer can dance anywhere,” Toni replied. “Fred Astaire danced on the ceiling.” She climbed up on a ladder to check that the PVC pipe Liberty’s mom had sent them was properly hung from the gym ceiling and rigged to a water hose.

  “Is that our hurricane?” Anya asked.

  “Hopefully,” Toni said. “The holes should let the water from the hose trickle through behind you. And the trough on the floor should catch it and keep the floor dry. It’ll look like a c
urtain of rain behind you.”

  Toni continued talking—more to herself than to any of the Divas. “We need to make sure the thunder and lightning goes off on time . . . and the wind machine is blowing hard enough so the judges can feel it in their faces. Rochelle? Are you paying attention?”

  Rochelle was sitting on the bleachers, watching Liberty and Hayden run their routine in the corner of the gym. She knew it was just acting, but they did look like a couple in love, especially when Hayden lifted her high overhead, then gently cradled her in his arms. Watching them only made her feel worse, but she couldn’t look away.

  “Did you hear anything I just said?” Toni asked.

  Rochelle jumped to attention. “Sorry. What?”

  Toni sighed and sat down next to her.

  “Marcus Sanzobar,” her teacher said quietly.

  “Huh?”

  “Marcus Sanzobar was the boy my teacher Miss Olga paired me with in pas de deux class at ABC.”

  Rochelle sensed a tale about Toni’s teen years at American Ballet Company coming on. Her teacher was very tight-lipped about her past, and only shared details when she had an important point to make—a moral to her story. So Rochelle listened carefully.

  “Marcus was an amazing dancer,” Toni said. “I loved to watch him. He was so dynamic as Franz in Coppélia.”

  “Was he cute?” Rochelle asked.

  “The cutest,” Toni replied. “He had blond hair and green eyes that twinkled in the spotlight. We hung out together after ballet class every day. We’d eat pizza, play video games. Then one day, he called me Swanilda.”

  “Ugh!” Rochelle made a face. “That’s an awful thing to call anyone!”

  “No! No!” Toni corrected her. “It’s a lovely thing to call your girlfriend. Swanilda is the girl who wins Franz’s heart in Coppélia.”

  “So, he was your BF?”

  Toni smiled. “My first BF ever. Justine got to dance with him quite a bit at ABC as she made her way up the ranks there.”

  “Oh, no! Justine stole your boyfriend?” Rochelle cried. “That’s terrible!”