We were back in the car in less than two minutes, and Uncle Theo eyed the duffel bag. “Must be a big project,” he said.
V nodded, glancing sideways at Ryan. “A massive undertaking.”
Ryan scowled but stayed quiet.
When we got to the studio, Gabby held me back for a second while the others headed for the door.
“You can fool Uncle Theo, but you can’t fool me,” she said. “What’s really going on?”
I sighed. “I’m having Vanessa give Ryan a makeover so he can get into Berkeley Dennis’s party.”
My sister looked as if I’d just announced I was competing for Miss Universe.
“Why on Earth would you help him? He’s a jerk!”
“Shh!” I started walking toward the building. “I’m just trying to do something nice, okay? It’s the holidays.”
She shook her head. “You’re not telling me something. Normally, you don’t want anyone to know you’re a dancer, but it’s okay for him to know it?” Gabby gestured at Ryan and made a disgusted face. “This isn’t gonna end well.”
“He won’t say anything,” I said. To myself I added, As long as I do whatever he asks. “He promised, since I agreed to help him.”
Gabby studied me. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
“If there was something to tell, I would,” I lied.
When she realized she wasn’t going to get anything else out of me, Gabby sighed and opened the door. “I just hope he isn’t rude while we’re dancing.”
“He won’t be,” I assured her. “Vanessa will keep him busy.”
As if to prove my point, V was walking around Ryan and jotting stuff in a notebook.
“You’re taking an awful lot of notes,” commented Ryan.
“There’s an awful lot that needs work,” she responded. V turned to me. “We’re gonna need a complete overhaul on this one.”
“Tim?” Gabby pointed at her watch. “We’ve got to get changed and on the floor.”
I nodded to her and told V, “Just do what you can.”
“You got it,” said Vanessa. “Where can I work my magic?”
“The storage room where we keep our equipment is pretty empty.” I led the way down the hall and pushed open a door. “Sorry, it’s kind of small.”
Vanessa glanced at the ceiling and grimaced. “Not the best lighting either, but it’ll do.”
“Tim!” Gabby said in a more insistent voice.
I waved to V. “I’ll see you guys later. Good luck!” I closed the door and hurried down the hall with Gabby.
“Do you think Vanessa’s going to be okay in there with him?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.
I snorted. “Are you kidding? I think Ryan should be more afraid.”
Gabby and I did a quick change in the bathrooms and joined the other dancers in the studio. We were a couple minutes late, but neither the choreographer nor Uncle Theo commented.
About two minutes into the first song, I saw a streak go past an interior window. When I turned, it was gone.
“Timotheos, focus!” Uncle Theo called. Everyone else was facing the opposite direction.
I turned just as something else rushed past. I didn’t dare look back in case Uncle Theo called me out again, but I realized I could see the reflection of whatever was happening if I glanced in the mirror.
A couple seconds later, the streaks were back, and I could actually see what they were now.
Ryan was racing down the hall with a towel flapping around his neck while Vanessa chased him, yelling something I couldn’t hear. I could see a comb in her hand.
I chuckled to myself and kept dancing. Ryan had wanted a makeover. . . .
A minute later he was dashing past again, this time with Vanessa right behind him, waving a pair of scissors.
“Uh-oh,” I muttered.
Ryan reappeared from the opposite direction and stopped in front of the studio window. I could see his reflection in the mirror, waving his arms wildly to get our attention. Several of the dancers, who’d seen him too, stopped and turned to stare.
Vanessa had a pair of scissors poised over Ryan, but when she realized we were all watching, she tucked them behind her back and smiled.
“Tim . . . ,” Uncle Theo said in a warning voice.
“Sorry,” I said, dancing toward the door. “I told them to keep busy until I could join them.”
I ran into the hall and closed the studio door behind me. “What the heck is going on?”
Ryan, wild-eyed, pointed at Vanessa. “She tried to kill me with a comb and scissors!”
“I was trying to cut his hair!” said Vanessa. “He needs to be made over from head to toe, and I was not going to start with those.” She grimaced and pointed at his grubby sneakers.
“Where’s your certificate from haircutting school?” Ryan demanded.
The two of them started yelling back and forth, getting so loud I was afraid everyone in the studio would hear them over the music.
I put my fingers in my mouth and whistled.
Vanessa covered her ears. “A simple ‘Hey, V’ would’ve worked.”
“Sorry,” I told her, turning to Ryan. “There’s nobody I’d trust more with my hair than Vanessa. You’re going to have to be okay with change if you want to be the coolest guy in sixth grade.”
“Ha!” Vanessa quickly clamped a hand over her mouth when Ryan glared at her. “I mean, of course you can be.” She held up her scissors and snipped the air with them. “But that starts with a haircut. And then we move on to the eyebrows.” She produced a pair of tweezers from her pocket.
Ryan gave me a horrified look, and I shrugged. “You gotta do what the makeover guru says.”
I walked back into the studio, but inside I was doing a high-kicking happy dance.
I jumped into the routine as if nothing had happened, and thankfully, neither Vanessa nor Ryan appeared in the window again. But when class was over, Uncle Theo pulled me aside.
“Is everything okay? You’ve been very distracted the last week or so.”
I nodded. “There’s just so much to do before the holidays. Last-minute projects . . . you know.”
“Well, please try to focus. Remember, we’ve got a dress rehearsal coming up.”
“I’ll be ready,” I promised.
He and the others went to change, and I sneaked down the hall to check on Vanessa and Ryan.
“How’s it going in there?” I asked, knocking on the door.
Vanessa poked her head outside, hair even more askew than normal, but her eyes were shining, even with a huge bump on her cheek.
“Don’t tell me Ryan did that,” I said, pointing.
She shook her head. “I was trying to calm him by juggling some lipsticks, and then I accidentally tripped over a chair. But I think you’re going to be impressed with the final results.”
I crossed my arms. “I hope so.”
Vanessa stepped into the hall, being careful to conceal Ryan, and did a drumroll against her legs. “I present to you the new and improved Ryan . . . uh. . . What’s His Face!”
She opened the door and gestured to it with a flourish.
Ryan stepped out in a pair of my pants, a button-down shirt, and a tie. His hair had been trimmed and spiked a bit, and he moved with confidence, leaning against the wall like a GQ cover model. I hated to admit it, but Ryan could pass for good-looking.
“V,” I said. “You should win an award.”
Vanessa giggled and hugged herself. “It was actually pretty fun once we came to an understanding.” She bumped Ryan with her hip.
Alarms immediately went off in my head. Earlier V had wanted to kill him with her shoe, and now they were acting like best buddies.
“What exactly did you guys talk about in there?” I asked, looking directly at Ryan. “And by that, I mean ‘how did you brainwash my friend?’”
“Oh stop!” Vanessa pushed me. “Ryan’s actually a nice guy. He apologized for everything and was really open
to change once we got started.”
He smirked at her, but the way he did it was almost smooth. Not his normal jerky sneer. “I have to admit, you were right about the eyebrows.” He reached up and groomed one with the tip of his finger. “Well, done, V.”
I cocked my head to one side.
They were on a nickname basis?
Vanessa beamed and bounced on the balls of her feet. “Show Tim the etiquette stuff I taught you.”
Ryan leaned forward and extended his hand to me with an easy smile. “Ryan Durstwich. Thrilled to meet you.”
“Uh . . .” I shook his hand. “You, too.”
“That’s an impressive grip you’ve got. Reminds me of this wrestler I saw—”
“Nope.” Vanessa cut him off. “Wrestlers are not in a gentleman’s vocabulary.”
Ryan cleared his throat and tried again. “So what do you do for fun around here?”
Now I’d get him.
“I dance,” I said, gesturing to my clothes. “Wearing this. Pretty funny, right?” I even spun so my fustanella fanned out.
I expected Ryan to snicker or say something snide, but instead he applauded. “That’s amazing! I wish I had that kind of talent.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Great to meet you.”
He looked to V for approval. “How was that? Am I a classy guy or what?”
Never mind that I was the one who taught him all of it.
“Close,” she said with a grin. “But you never bothered to get Tim’s name.”
“Oh man!” Ryan smacked himself on the forehead and chuckled. “I’m such a goofball.”
Vanessa laughed too. “I’ll be right back. After sitting in a closet for an hour, I really have to pee!”
She hurried away, and Ryan turned to study his reflection in the studio window. “Man, I look good.”
“You sure do,” I agreed, holding up the task list. “With personality to match! The coolest guy in the sixth grade, I’d say. Right?”
Ryan looked away from his reflection long enough to nod, and I punched the air triumphantly, crossing off the last item.
He turned to face me. “Except . . .”
I froze, eyebrow raised. “Yeah?”
“I’ve kind of gotten used to our arrangement.” Ryan stepped away from the window. “I find it suits me. And I still keep getting hints of attitude from you.”
My eyes narrowed. “What are you trying to say?”
“That we’re not finished.” Ryan bent to pick up his jeans and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Here are your next tasks. If you don’t do them, I’ll reveal your dark, embarrassing dance secret, along with a new one . . .” He stepped closer and smiled. “That you’re so weak, you let me blackmail you.”
“You . . .” Words failed me, and I stared at him, openmouthed. Ryan slipped the paper into my vest pocket and patted me on the cheek.
“Don’t just stand there, Antonides. You’ve got work to do.”
CHAPTER
7
The Truth About Tim
“You can’t do that!” I exploded. “We had a deal.”
Ryan studied his nails, unconcerned. “And I’m changing it. I don’t see why you’re freaking out. Have you even seen the tasks?” He took the paper back from me and pointed to an item. “Look: iron my pants. I only have one pair, your pair, so that’s an easy one.” He smiled reassuringly.
I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Why are you torturing me? There’s nothing I’ve ever done to you that deserves this.”
Ryan’s smug expression slid into a scowl. “How about every time you strut down the hall like you own the school? Or how all the girls flock around you and ignore everyone else? Or all your family members who think you’re so perfect?” He practically spat the words. “And with all that, you still have to make the coolest kids in class laugh at me?”
“Geez, let it go!” I threw my hands in the air. “You were being a jerk. You deserved it.”
Ryan’s calm demeanor returned. “And you deserve this.” He waved the paper in my face. “This is for all the ordinary kids like me who never get justice.”
I shook my head. “No. Forget it. This time I’m—”
“Timmy, let me paint a picture for you,” said Ryan, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “You’re in sixth grade now. You’ve still got two more years at Abraham Lincoln Middle School. If I reveal your dance video and the fact that you can be blackmailed, how well do you think the next few years are going to go?”
I clenched my jaw but didn’t say anything. The kid was an evil genius.
“Let me help you see it,” he continued. “Because of the video, you’ll lose all your admirers. Because of the blackmail, you’ll be running favors for anyone who can dig up dirt on you. Your best bet is to keep working for me.” Ryan placed a hand on his heart. “I will personally guarantee things don’t get worse for you than this.”
There haven’t been many times I’ve wanted to cry. The last occasion, four years ago, was after my aunt Rose, Uncle Theo’s wife, had died, and it was more out of sadness for Uncle Theo. Right now, though, I had to fight back tears of fear, frustration, and rage.
Ryan had complete control of my life.
All the mocking images came back again, complete with laugh track, until Gabby’s voice busted through.
“Whoa! That’s not . . .” She approached us, V grinning beside her. “Ryan Durstwich?” She reached out and tentatively poked him in the shoulder.
Ryan gave a chuckle that sounded friendly enough, but to me should’ve included flames and him holding a pitchfork. “Impressed?” he asked.
“Uh . . . yeah!” Gabby turned to Vanessa. “You did all this?”
Vanessa giggled and blushed. “Well, I didn’t do that much.”
“Don’t be modest,” said Ryan. “I was a mess; I’ll admit it.” He checked his phone. “But I should be getting home.”
I snorted. “Like anybody there misses you.”
Vanessa and Gabby stared at me.
“Tim! That was really mean!” said V.
“What’s gotten into you lately?” asked Gabby.
Ryan placed a hand on both of their shoulders. “It’s fine,” he said, smiling at them. But when he looked my way, there was murder in his eyes. “I’m sure he’ll make it up to me.”
“Well, let me just grab Uncle Theo,” said Gabby.
“I’ll do it,” I said. I had no desire to be around Ryan any longer than necessary.
Gabby didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she vaguely nodded and went back to marveling over Ryan.
I caught up with Uncle Theo, who was talking to a couple of the female dancers, and when he saw me, he excused himself and hurried over.
“Is everything all right?” he asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Yeah, the Ghost of Poor Choices Past.
“It’s fine,” I said. “Is it okay if we leave soon, though? My classmates need to get home.”
“Of course,” said Uncle Theo. “Just let me grab my things.”
He disappeared for a moment, and the dancers he’d been talking with walked over.
“Your uncle has been telling us what a sensation you are!” one of them said. “And we have to agree.”
“It’s a pleasure to watch you dance,” the other chimed in.
My insides warmed a little, and I couldn’t help grinning. “Really? Thanks!” After being mocked for my dancing, it was nice to hear something good for a change.
“Are you excited for the upcoming performance?” one of them asked.
I found myself nodding without a moment’s hesitation. “Actually, yeah,” I said. “The Museum of Science and Industry is one of my favorite places, and to get to be part of their production is kind of awesome.”
“I feel the same way,” said one of the women. “I suppose I should practice my divaratikos some more.”
“Oh, are you doing a special solo dance?” I asked.
The women exchanged a quizzical look
before one of them said, “No, it’s part of the group’s routine. We were just doing it a little earlier?”
The other one snapped her fingers. “It was when you stepped out of the room.”
“Oh,” I said. “I guess I need to catch up on that.”
Uncle Theo hustled over with a bag on one shoulder, but before I could ask him about the routine, he was scooting me toward the exit. “We have to go, Timotheos! I’m late for my date!”
“Another one?” I marveled.
My tone wasn’t lost on him. Uncle Theo raised an eyebrow.
“I mean . . . another one! Good for you!” I gave him a thumbs-up, and he chuckled. Then he put me in a headlock and tousled my hair.
“You may not realize it, but your uncle is quite the ladies’ man,” he informed me while I struggled to get free.
“Stop! Stop!” I cried.
“The noogie?” He let go, and I grinned.
“No, calling yourself a ladies’ man!”
I dashed away before he could catch me, laughing until I reached Vanessa, Gabby . . . and Ryan. My feet slowed and my smile flattened out.
“Uncle Theo’s right behind me,” I informed everyone.
“So we heard,” Gabby said with a smirk.
It was a quiet car ride home . . . for me, anyway. Uncle Theo laughed as Vanessa, Gabby, and Ryan told him stories about crazy things that happened at school, none of which involved me being a dancer. I wondered how Uncle Theo would’ve felt if he knew how much Ryan made fun of what we did. As soon as Ryan got out of the car at his house, it was like a poison cloud lifted. Suddenly, the air felt lighter and I could relax and breathe again.
After we dropped V off and it was just family in the car, Uncle Theo glanced at me in the rearview mirror.
“That’s a very interesting class you’re taking,” he said. “Where the group project is to give someone a makeover.”
I didn’t even bother to act guilty. “That wasn’t for a group project. Ryan just has a habit of getting what he wants.” I hammered a fist into the seat beside me.
“Well, he should do that on his own time,” Uncle Theo said with a disapproving tone. “He interrupted dance practice, and we barely have any time left before dress rehearsal. And you don’t have all the dance moves down.”
The Secret Talent Page 8