by Megan Atwood
And then Kayley walked out of the office. Maybe she wouldn’t kill someone for a place in the corps or even a lead part but darned if she wouldn’t kill herself trying to get back on top if she had to.
Chapter 4
As much as Kayley didn’t want to admit it. Madame was right. She wasn’t driven. She didn’t care as much as the others. And she didn’t eat, sleep, and breathe ballet.
But she knew she was talented. Maybe not as talented as Madeleine and Ophelia but definitely more so than Sophie and Emma. Or at least on the same level.
As if she had called the girls up, all four of them came down the hall toward her. She had missed dinner to speak to Madame, and she knew the others were all curious as to what had happened.
She kept walking down the hall and met them halfway. The dark corridor did nothing to dampen her mood. For the first time in days, she felt happy. And determined.
“Hey, guys!” she said as she reached Ophelia, Madeleine, Sophie, and Emma. Ophelia furrowed her eyebrows. Ophelia was one of those girls, Kayley knew, who always looked mad or just plain mean. So when Ophelia actually put on a stern face, her look was plain paralyzing. Normally, Kayley would have laughed at the look, but something had changed in her. She stared back and said, “What.”
“What do you mean, what?” Ophelia said. “I was just looking at you. Wondering how it went with Madame.”
Ophelia looked at Madeleine and widened her eyes.
A pang of jealousy shot through Kayley. Since when were Ophelia and Madeleine such good friends? Not only was Madeleine taking her part, but evidently she was taking Kayley’s friends as well. If Madeleine weren’t so nice, Kayley would actually be angry with her. But she couldn’t think of her friendships now. She had work to do.
She continued down the hall, the girls following her. Kayley could practically feel their confusion.
Finally, Sophie spoke up: “Well?”
Kayley stopped in front of her room. “Well, what?”
Ophelia let out an exasperated sigh. “You know what! How did it go with Madame?”
Kayley turned the key in her lock. “It was really good.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “Did Madame give you your part back?”
Madeleine looked relieved. Kayley realized how conflicted she must have felt about taking the role. She truly wasn’t upset with Madeleine about it either, but she didn’t have time to babysit other people’s feelings.
She opened her door and said, “Nope,” then stepped inside, leaving the four girls standing outside in the hall.
Madeleine reached out with another bag of candy. “We thought you might like one of these. Talking to Madame is always hard.”
Kayley smiled at the girls. “Thanks, but no thanks. You guys are great. But I need to do some work. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at class.”
With that, she shut the door.
It was one in the morning, and Kayley had been in the library for hours, paging through books on ballet technique. She’d exhausted herself in her room browsing the Internet and watching YouTube. For variety, she’d decided to check out the library—a place she hadn’t even stepped in since she started coming to the academy two years ago. She’d managed to carve a space out in the way, way back corner of the dusty shelves so she could try out any new moves she discovered.
She wondered if anyone else had ever gone back to the place where she had camped out—a forgotten-looking corner at the end of a labyrinth of corridors. Cobwebs hung from the dusty old windows, and the books on the shelves looked ancient. The lights in the library had been shut off hours ago, but Kayley had planned ahead and kept her flashlight. She’d broken curfew so many times before that she knew exactly how to prepare lights-out. Sure, she was risking detention—or worse—but she wasn’t nervous in the least. She had a feeling that no one would check all the way back where she was. She hadn’t even known the place existed.
Even though Kayley wasn’t one to get easily spooked, she had to admit this corner of the library was creepy. Cut off from everything else, dark and dusty … Every noise threatened to make her jump. And there were a lot of noises. Creaks, groans, sighs. The place sounded like it was talking at her in a dead language. She was officially creeped out.
As she was closing a book on Russian masters and their ballet techniques, she thought she heard footsteps.
Her heart began to beat faster, and blood rushed to her head. She sat still and listened, but the footsteps no longer sounded through the hall.
She shook her head. The dark corner and the echoing sounds were getting to her. Lots of students thought the academy was haunted, but she never believed in that kind of stuff.
She stood up. From three shelves away, a loud bang echoed through the room like a shot.
Kayley jumped back, toppling over the chair she was sitting on. She put a hand to her chest, trying to slow her fast-beating heart. She flashed her light around the space and called out in a shaky voice, “Who’s there?”
The only reply was the echo of her question.
Her flashlight beam landed on cobwebs, revealing shelves filled with the crumbling old books. A spider crawled along the top of one of the cases.
She shivered. Yep, it was time to get out of there.
Grabbing the books she’d collected, she walked quickly down a row of stacks until she tripped and dropped her flashlight. It rolled away from her, spinning and spinning until it stopped, like a spotlight, on the object that had caused her fall.
Kayley bent down and looked at it—a book. An ancient one, from the looks of it. Turning it over in the light, she scanned the cover: A History of Dario Quincy Academy of Dance. She shrugged to herself. It wouldn’t hurt to read up on the place.
As she picked the book up, her bag bumped against the bookcase, and from the upper tier of the library, Kayley could swear she heard laughter. She stayed still for a moment to see if it came back, and though no noises did, a feeling of unease crept up her spine.
Why was she listening for voices in an empty library? she asked herself and then ran as fast as she could to her room.
Chapter 5
Despite a promise to herself that she would get a good night’s sleep for ballet class after her adventure in the library, Kayley found herself transfixed.
A History of Dario Quincy Academy of Dance was captivating.
After her experience in the creepy corner, Kayley had run back to her room, shadows following her wherever she went. She unlocked her door and stumbled into her room. She landed on her bed, and without putting on pajamas, she opened the old book.
Dust puffed out and Kayley coughed. She dropped the book, startled, and it landed open to a page with a beautifully illustrated picture of pointe shoes, old-fashioned but still gorgeous. Kayley was mesmerized. She picked the book back up and read the caption underneath the illustration: “The dancing shoes of Dorothy Quincy, wife of the founder of Dario Quincy Academy.”
Something like recognition flashed through her mind, but she couldn’t quite grab onto it. She started reading the section.
The book talked about the founder of the academy and how bad luck seemed to follow him wherever he went. Until he married a ballerina and together they established the academy, as well as a company with her dancing the lead. Evidently, she was a beautiful dancer, which seemed to make up for her husband’s bad luck, and she was on her way toward world renown as a prima ballerina.
Dorothy was very superstitious and made sure to wear the same pointe shoes for every performance, mending them as they needed to be mended and tending to them with great care. And then one day, they were gone. Vanished.
She was heartbroken, but she was a dancer and she had to dance. And so she still performed, on borrowed pointe shoes, in the academy’s production of Giselle. It was during this performance that an accident took her life. She died before she could become famous.
Legend also had it that the shoes reappeared after Dorothy’s death and her husband kept them with him ever
y night until his death. His luck then changed—the academy expanded, his fortune grew, but his heart remained broken. Regardless, the rumor was that the shoes imparted good luck on anyone who had them in their possession.
By the time Kayley closed the book, a vision flashed in her brain. The shoes were at the academy, enclosed in a glass case in the lobby. She’d seen them a million times, read the plaque in front of them over and over without retaining any of it. She could see the inscription in her mind, plain as day: “In loving memory of Dorothy Quincy. May your dancing live on.”
Kayley shut the book. She could sure use some luck like that at this point. She looked at the clock and yawned. Three in the morning already, and class started in three hours. She sighed. Looked like it would be another humiliating class.
After class, a sweaty Kayley left early to avoid talking to her friends. She’d been right—it had been an awful class. Kayley was just too tired to give it her all, and it showed in the corps. She kept yawning through the practice, and more than once she felt the harsh eyes of Madame staring at her. She walked out, discouraged.
To avoid breakfast and other people, Kayley walked downstairs and headed in the opposite direction of the dining hall. She would just wander until the meal was over and then head to regular classes. She didn’t even feel like taking a shower. She stepped out into the lobby of the building and saw the glass case right away. She’d always taken that case for granted. But there they were.
The shoes.
She hurried over to the case and stared at them.
If only she could have them, just for a little while, just until her dancing returned to the level it had been at.
She could make her dad proud. And Madame.
Kayley looked all around the glass case to see if she could open it somehow, just to touch the shoes one time. A lock sat at the back of the display.
Kayley sighed in frustration. Of course the case was locked. Did she think she could just open the case and touch an antique pair of shoes?
She shook her head, annoyed with herself. What was she thinking, anyway? That these shoes could really make someone a better dancer? It was a silly thought for a silly girl. She turned around and ran smack into Bert, the maintenance man, making the keys on his belt jingle.
He scowled down at her. “Watch where you’re going, missy.”
She stepped back, and he grabbed a bottle of cleaner and started wiping the glass case.
“Now don’t you go smudging this case, Ms. Thing. I have to wipe this down every day, and I’ll be able to tell.”
Kayley laughed. “I was just looking at them.”
He scowled at her, and she backed away, but not before she took note of his large key ring.
She would bet her entire ballet career that the key to that case was on that ring. And the strange feeling of need came over Kayley. She wanted those shoes. More than anything else in the world.
She stood straighter. What would it hurt to test the legend?
Chapter 6
On her way back to her room, Kayley ran into Madeleine and Ophelia. They were whispering to each other and giggling. Kayley seethed with jealousy. Madeleine was taking everything away from her. Ophelia was supposed to be Kayley’s best friend.
She tried to walk past them without saying anything, but Ophelia grabbed her sweater. “Hey. Where are you going?”
“Are you all right?” Madeleine asked, putting a hand on Kayley’s shoulder.
Kayley shrugged it off. “I’m fine. Just not feeling well, that’s all.”
Ophelia stared hard at her. Kayley knew she wasn’t buying it. But Ophelia shrugged and said, “Whatever.”
Madeleine said, “Do you want us to walk you to the nurse’s office?”
The nurse’s office was perfect. Why hadn’t she thought of that? It was right near the staircase to the lower floor, where Bert’s office was. She would fake sick all day and use the time away from class to try to get the keys.
Kayley shook her head. “Uh, no, I can get there myself. I’m just going to drop off my bag.” She looked down at the floor and started to walk away.
“You’re acting weird,” Ophelia said, but Kayley was walking away too fast to respond. She dismissed the other girls with a wave. She didn’t have time for this; she had an illness to fake.
She dropped her bag off in her room, then grabbed a hooded sweatshirt with a pocket in the front. Then she practically sprinted to the nurse’s room.
When she got there, she tried her hardest to look sick.
The nurse was cleaning shelves off as Kayley walked in. She held her belly and groaned to get the nurse’s attention.
He turned around.
“My stomach hurts.”
Nurse John squinted at her. “Well, why don’t you lie here. Have you eaten today?”
This was always his first question. Nurse John thought ballet dancers didn’t eat enough.
She realized she hadn’t. She shook her head.
He frowned and then walked to his desk and pulled out a granola bar. “Well, eat this. Then we’ll see how you feel.”
Kayley nodded, opened up the wrapper, and ate the bar. Her stomach actually did start to feel better, but she waited for a bit and said, “I don’t think that helped.” She tried to look as pitiful as she could.
Then she added, “I don’t think I can do classes or ballet practice today.”
Now the nurse, Kayley knew, was used to ballet dancers trying to fake sick out of regular classes. But never did they try to fake their way out of ballet class. Never. Nurse John immediately nodded and said, “OK. I’ll give you a note to give to your teachers. Can you make it to your room all right?”
Kayley nodded and watched as he scribbled something on a piece of paper. She could hardly believe how easy this was: all she had to do was show the note to Madame and her teachers tomorrow, and she’d be excused. She had to hide her smile when the nurse handed her the paper.
She held her stomach and said, “Thank you,” and walked slowly out the door.
As she turned the corner, she looked both ways down the hall to make sure no one would see her, then went down the stairs she knew led to the maintenance man’s room.
Time to change things around. Time for the shoes.
When Kayley hit the first stair, she almost turned back. She had forgotten how creepy the school could be. There was barely any light in the staircase. Canned laughter traveled to her from a TV far away, coming from the bottom of the stairs. The house creaked and groaned. Shadows played down the stairway, even though it was the middle of the day. She knew there were no windows down in the basement. She wondered how the maintenance man handled it. She could see why he was slightly weird.
She crept down ancient wooden stairs and, after an eternity, got to the end. Light flooded out into the hallway from a room off to her right, the source of the TV laughter. She sidled up to the door, tiptoeing. She crouched down, thinking Bert wouldn’t notice a face at the bottom of the door, and moved her head around the corner.
The office was empty.
Papers stood everywhere in uneven stacks, and a prehistoric computer sat blank-screened and unused on the desk. The TV sat on top of a double VCR/DVD player, with some tape going in the VCR. It looked and sounded like old episodes of some old TV show. Who knew? The maintenance man was a sitcom lover. Vintage.
Kayley slipped into the maintenance room as quietly as she could. The first thing she did was step on a pencil. The sound ricocheted off the room.
Kayley ducked, putting her hands up to her mouth. She looked out to the hallway, but no one seemed to be coming.
Looking carefully at the floor in front of her, she tiptoed over to the desk and began opening its metallic drawers. Each one squeaked open. The bottom drawer held a series of files. Kayley noticed an entire folder dedicated to Giselle, but she didn’t have time to look at it. She was searching for a key. Surely Bert had duplicates?
She stepped back and scanned the room. Nothing.
>
She needed those shoes! She kicked her heel back against the wall, not caring whether or not someone heard her. Something banged against her calf, and she turned around.
A tiny door in the wall hung open, about an inch up from the wood trim at bottom. She never would have seen the door’s outline unless she’d been looking for it. Crouching down, Kayley looked inside. An old-fashioned key hung on a hook.
A key that looked like a perfect fit for the display case upstairs.
Kayley reached out slowly and picked the key up, holding it in her hands. Here was the key to her future. The key to dancing the part she was supposed to dance. To being the dancer she wanted to be. She closed the little door and stood up. And then she heard it again. The laughter. This time she was sure.
Shoving the key in her pocket, she sprinted upstairs to her room, making enough noise to wake the dead.
Chapter 7
At midnight, Kayley sat on her bed, chewing on her fingernails, her knees shaking. She’d been going over the same thoughts constantly since she took the key.
Should she, or shouldn’t she?
Kayley hadn’t even gone to dinner. She had just lain on her bed, one arm thrown across her eyes and the other tapping its fingers on the bedspread.
Taking the shoes would be wrong. No doubt about it. She would get into major trouble if someone found out. She might even get kicked out of the academy and then she wouldn’t be able to get into another one and then she’d never get a position in a company … Her parents would be so ashamed. Not to mention, her own moral compass pointed to no. Stealing was just wrong.
But then …
Kayley needed that part back. She was born to play the fairy godmother. She needed to feel that fire in her belly again, the whole-body feeling that came over her when she would get a complicated move right or when she could feel the music run through her. She needed it.
And it sure as heck wasn’t anywhere to be found at the moment.