I Forgot to Tell You

by Charis Marsh

  “How come?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not good enough yet?”

  “Oh.” Will paused, working up to what he had really meant to say. “So, has your mom talked to you yet about whether she’s going to pay for your lessons yet?”

  “I told you,” Julian said impatiently. “She isn’t paying for my lessons. I’m on scholarship, I just need my homestay fees paid, and Luigi isn’t going to pay for them since he and mom split up.”

  Will thought about this. “Well, could you ask him to?”

  “Uh, no?” Julian said indignantly. “I am not going to ask him to do that! Why would he pay for my homestay if he’s not dating Satya anymore?”

  “Well, you could still ask him, Julian. So, does this mean that you will be home next year?”

  Julian shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “What are your options?”

  “I don’t know! I’ll handle it, Dad, I promise. I’ll tell you when I know what I’m doing; I just really don’t know what I am doing right now.”

  “Okay.” Will stood up, stretching. “Ahhh, that feels good. Daisy’s been getting me into yoga, it’s great.”

  “Cool,” Julian said, distracted by thoughts of what he was going to do next year. Why do I always have to be the grown-up?

  “It was nice to see you, buddy. You look good.”

  “Thanks.” Julian smiled. “You have to go now?”

  “Yeah, a guy’s giving me a ride up in half an hour; have to go meet him at the Canada Line Station.”

  “Kk, bye.” Julian hugged him, and then Will left. Julian picked up his backpack and went to leave, going to his next class; but he was stopped by Mr. Briggs in the hallway.

  “How is everything, Jules?”

  “Pretty good.”

  “Everything working out for you? How are your classes?”

  “Okay. Getting a B average, I think.”

  “Still like dance?”

  “Of course!”

  Mr. Briggs laughed. “Okay, just asking. That’s my job, you know.” He disappeared into his office with a large pile of McKinley school T-shirts, whistling the “Phantom of the Opera.”

  Julian walked out into the hallway and realized that his class must have already started; the main floor was empty. He broke into a run, up three flights of stairs until he ended up in his Biology class. He slid onto a chair next to Tristan.

  Mr. Fu was already writing on the board. “Now, the translation step in protein synthesis has three mini steps,” he said over-excitedly as he drew on the white board. “These are initiation, elongation, and termination.”

  Julian reached in his backpack, pulling out his notebook and writing the notes down. “Hey, can I copy what I missed?” he whispered to Tristan.

  Tristan pretended not to hear him and Julian frowned. He could see Tristan’s notebook, and it had a full paragraph of writing in Tristan’s peculiarly small and neat printing. “Tristan! Can I copy?” He looked up; Mr. Fu was drawing pictures of DNA strands untangling, and he looked like he was going to be a while.

  “Fine!” Tristan muttered. “You can copy after class!”

  Julian frowned. The writing was right in front of him. If Tristan would just move his elbow to the side a little bit, he could read it … there, if he leaned at an angle he could get it. He began to write in his own loopy printing: “DNA is transcribed to mRNA in the nucleus and mRNA is translated into protein in the cytoplasm …” Julian wondered why Tristan was in such an annoying mood lately. He had been so much fun at the beginning of the year, and now he was always grumpy and never seemed to have any time for Julian.

  After class, Julian stopped to drink from the water fountain. “Hey, Julian,” Jonathon said. “How’s it going?”

  Julian stood up and wiped the water from his mouth. “Good.” They began to walk to the bus stop, weaving through the usual lunchtime chaos.

  “I heard that you were going to be in Leah’s new piece.”

  “Yeah!” Julian grinned, suddenly remembering.

  “Yeah, I am.” A list had appeared on the academy schedule board yesterday morning. It had been titled “Contemporary June Piece” and the teacher listed had been Leah. There had been a rather small list of dancers on the list, and Julian was stoked to be included. “You?” Julian actually couldn’t remember if Jonathon had been on the list or not.

  “Nope.” Jonathon shrugged. “Whatever. Contem-porary’s not my strong suit.”

  Julian frowned. He flashed back to the many conversations that he had had with Jonathon. “I thought that you said you used to always get first place in any contemporary competitions that you had? And remember you said there was that girl who was in love with you because of that contemporary piece you did where you were almost naked? And what about that contemporary teacher who told you that you should stick to contemporary because you were too expressive for ballet?”

  “Uh,” Jonathon said, swiftly backtracking, “yes, but that was different contemporary. That was proper contemporary. Leah’s is more like jazz.”

  “Well, I like Leah’s contemporary,” Julian said loyally.

  “Mmf,” Jonathon answered.

  “How are privates with Kaitlyn going?” Julian asked curiously.

  “Oh. I decided not to ask her if she wanted to share privates,” Jonathon said quickly.

  Julian was confused. “But I thought you were going to do it last Friday. Remember, you left me and you were totally going over to her to ask?”

  “I changed my mind,” Jonathon said briefly.

  Julian stopped asking questions and they walked to the bus stop in silence. Julian was beginning to doubt that Jonathon had actually accomplished all the feats that he bragged about.

  The bus was late as usual, and Julian made his way to a seat beside Tristan and Delilah. They were both absorbed in whatever they were talking about with each other, so Julian put on his iPod and listened to his favourite Gotye song as he began to eat his lunch.

  Inside the studio, Julian was excited to learn the piece. They were all sprawled out on the floor, waiting for Leah to arrive. So far, there was Julian, Kageki, Michael, Delilah, Taylor, and Chloe. Three boys and three girls. Michael and Chloe looked both terrified and ecstatic to be in the same piece as the other four. Taylor looked exhausted and sweaty. “How was morning class?” Julian asked her. “Still fun?”

  Taylor nodded, smothering a yawn. “So tired. Mrs. Castillo had us doing petit allegro for an hour straight, I swear. And then an hour of grande allegro.” Her bodysuit was soaking wet in the back and the front, and as she rolled away from a spot on the floor that she had been lying on, Julian could see a damp spot from her sweat. Kageki was busy doing pirouettes. Around and around and around — Julian watched him turn, envious of his confidence.

  Leah walked in a bit late, and flung her bags to the row of seats beside the mirror. “You all here?” She did a head count. “Okay, good. Now, I had wanted Alexandra and Tristan to be here too, but the Demidovskis tell me this is impossible —” Leah shook her head, annoyed. “So, it’s just going to be the six of you.” She sat on the floor, stretching her legs out in a V in front of her. “So, let me tell you what’s going on. This piece is going to be awesome. Who’s heard the song ‘Somebody That I Used To Know?’ The Gotye song? Julian flung his hand out, a huge grin on his face. He’d just been listening to it on the bus! We’re doing a piece to that song? Oh, please, please!

  Leah looked around. “Just Julian?” She sounded surprised.

  Taylor rolled over to Julian. “Is that the one that you made me listen to?” she whispered. Julian nodded, and Taylor put her hand up.

  “Two people? Okay, that’s better.”

  Beside Julian, Michael looked upset, like it was the first day of a class and he was already failing.

  “It’s okay if you haven’t heard it already,” Leah said. “That’s your homework. I want you to go watch the music video on YouTube tonight. The piece we’re doing today is going to be ch
oreographed to that song. Now, I’m just going to partner you guys up: Michael and Chloe, Julian and Taylor, Kageki and Delilah.”

  They nodded. They’d already been sitting in those pairs, assuming that she would sort them this way.

  “Now, I want you to listen to me,” Leah said, leaning forward and looking them in the eyes. She was talking to them seriously, as if they were co-conspirators, not a teacher and her students. “The reason that we are starting rehearsal on this piece so late is because the Demidovskis wouldn’t give me the time or the studio space with you guys. This piece is going to be given last priority, after Coppelia. I need you guys to make it your first priority, all right? If I say come, rehearse, I want you to come. No ‘Oh, Mr. Moretti wants me to rehearse Villagers for another six hours,’ no ‘Oh, Mrs. Demidovski just wants me to stand here modelling this costume for her for the next hour.’ Do you understand?”

  They nodded.

  “Good. This piece should be your first priority. Mrs. Demidovski told me that you are all in the corps of Coppelia, so there should be no problem.”

  Julian saw Taylor gulp and look down beside him. He frowned; what did that mean? Had she been given another role recently? He thought that Mao and Keiko were first and second cast of the flower pas de deux.

  “Let’s get started.” Leah walked over to plug her iPod into her player, and the dancers began to take off their sweatshirts. Julian grinned at Taylor; this piece was going to be so much fun.

  After they had been rehearsing for an hour and a half, the door opened. Mrs. Demidovski walked in with Mrs. Castillo. “May we watch?” Mrs. Demidovski asked. It was not a question.

  “They haven’t learned much yet,” Leah protested.

  Mrs. Demidovski waved away Leah’s objections. “Just show me.”

  “All right.” Leah sighed. “Everyone, from the beginning. Don’t worry if you forget something.” She turned on the music, and they began.

  After about two minutes, the piece had completely unravelled. Leah stood up and began marking the girls’ part for them, but as the girls tried to copy her, the boys were utterly lost. “All right, enough.” Mrs. Demidovski put her hand up. “Good.” From the tone of her voice Julian could tell that she meant the opposite. “Good. Thank you.” She turned to Leah. “I will send Cromwell Gilly up to you, he can show you which costumes you can use in the costume room. Taylor, Jules, with me.” Taylor and Julian immediately stepped toward her to follow her from the room.

  “Hey,” Leah protested. “Can I please have them for a bit more? We’re still working here.”

  “They can catch up later,” Mrs. Demidovski assured her. “They need to rehearse Coppelia right now.” Taylor and Julian followed Mrs. Demidovski out of the studio, heading downstairs and leaving an extremely frustrated Leah behind them. Julian fought not to giggle; on one hand he could sympathize with Leah’s difficulties in dealing with the Demidovskis, but on the other hand it was extremely entertaining to watch Mrs. Demidovski so easily win an argument with her.

  Downstairs, it was sunny and everyone who hadn’t been on the list for contemporary was in the big studio, rehearsing first act. Julian went to walk in the studio, but Mrs. Demidovski grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back. “Come here,” she insisted, leading Taylor and Julian into studio B instead. Julian looked at Taylor and she shrugged.

  Inside studio B, Theresa was waiting. “Hi,” Julian said, even more confused. Why is she here?

  “Mr. Demidovski wants Taylor to learn Swanhilda,” Mrs. Demidovski explained. “I don’t have time to teach. Julian, you are already an understudy for Frantz, you can rehearse with Taylor. Theresa will help you.” Mrs. Demidovski nodded to Theresa and then walked out.

  Julian turned to Theresa. “Does this mean that you are a teacher at the academy now?” he asked, confused.

  She shook her head and shrugged. “They’re paying me, I hope,” she answered. “I think she said that the teacher who is in charge of rehearsing Coppelia doesn’t want Taylor to be rehearsing Coppelia …?”

  “Mr. Moretti,” Taylor and Julian said together.

  “Ah. Mr. Moretti.” Theresa’s tone was not one of carelessness, but one that was begging to be asked questions.

  “What about Mr. Moretti?” Taylor obliged.

  “I knew him a long time ago, that is all. Now, come on, let’s rehearse, you have a lot of work to do.” Theresa began to teach Taylor her part, and Julian sat down cross-legged on the floor, staring wistfully up at the ceiling. He could hear the Gotye music, and he wanted so badly to be upstairs.

  The door opened, and Charlize poked her head inside. “Hi, everyone,” she said happily.

  “This is not a private,” Theresa said quickly. “This is a rehearsal. I’m sorry, but I need you to go.”

  Charlize ignored her. “Taylor! I need you to come, right now. You have an audition in an hour.”

  “What?” Theresa protested. “What do you mean? Audition for what? She’s rehearsing for Swanhilda, she can’t go right now.”

  “They’re looking for boys, too, Julian,” Charlize said, nodding to him. “I think it might be an open call — it’s for ballet-trained dancers. You should come along, too, we’ll see if we can get you in.”

  “They can’t leave!” Theresa said angrily. “I don’t think you appreciate that —”

  Charlize raised her impeccably plucked eyebrows. “I don’t think that you appreciate that Taylor is my daughter. I decide what she has to do, not you. Taylor, go get changed.”

  Taylor picked up her bag and water bottle and left the room. After a second’s wavering, Julian did the same.

  “Your mother’s scary when she’s angry,” Julian said, following Taylor to the girl’s washroom. Taylor started to take off her bodysuit, and Julian quickly turned away. He had noticed that Taylor had started treating him like he was gay, and he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it. Confused, mostly.

  “Yeah, that’s all the time lately,” Taylor said, pulling on her shirt and starting to pull the sparkly pins out of her hair. “Daddy’s getting married again. Mom’s all pissed because she says that she’s a gold digger.”

  “Does your mom still miss him?” Julian asked, pulling his jeans over top of his ballet shorts.

  “I don’t think so,” Taylor answered. “They divorced when I was twelve, and my mom always says that the only good thing to come out of that marriage was me and Alison.”

  They went upstairs and joined Charlize. “You don’t have head shots, do you, Julian?” Charlize asked rhetorically. “Don’t worry about it. Now, it’s just a small audition for Superbly Unnatural. They need a ballet dancer and a contemporary/hip hop dancer, and that’s all that the breakdown said.”

  “Okay,” Julian shrugged. “I guess I’ll just go in and do whatever they ask me to?”

  “Exactly,” Charlize said, beaming at him.

  “Mom,” Taylor said from the front seat. She’d been sulking for the last five minutes and was annoyed that nobody had noticed yet.

  “Yes, Taylor? What’s your problem now?”

  “Theresa was in the middle of teaching me Swanhilda,” Taylor said. “Mrs. Demidovski wanted me to learn it. Now what?”

  “Oh,” Charlize said. “That is very unfortunate.” They pulled up to the gates of the studio, and Charlize drove past the security guard. “It says Building C … Okay, here. Come on guys, you have fifteen minutes.” They piled out, and Julian followed Taylor up the steps. This was turning out to be one of those days where he just didn’t know what was going on, and Julian was at his happiest when he could just go with the flow and plead no forewarning. I’m going to an audition! This year just keeps getting more interesting.

  “Name?” the bored-looking girl at the desk asked. Julian stared at her makeup, wondering what it would feel like to have that much on. She had a pale complexion, but her foundation darkened her skin by at least four shades, and the blush over top was a shade of orange that no human being had ever produced in t
heir cheeks before.

  “This is Taylor Audley,” Charlize spoke for them, “and this is Julian Reese, he’s not on the list, but we were wondering if we could get him in, as well?”

  The girl stared at them blankly. “I’ll have to ask somebody about that. Here, fill out this form.” She handed them two sheets, and they sat down to fill them out.

  “I don’t know any of this,” Julian whispered, staring at his sheet. “What do they need all this information for?”

  Charlize reached over, taking the sheet from him. He had filled in his name, cellphone number, height, and weight, but everything else was blank. Charlize looked worried. “Okay, I’ll just put our address on it for you and sign it as your guardian — you have no idea what your measurements are?”

  “No. Cromwell Gilly probably does, though …”

  “I don’t have his number. Okay, just leave it blank then.”

  Julian nodded.

  The girl came back and looked over at them. “They think that it might be okay,” she said unenthusiastically. “So you can go in.” She took Julian’s single sheet and Taylor’s sheet, resumé, and headshot.

  Julian looked around the small room, confused. He had thought it would be full of dancers, since this was a dance audition, but nobody looked like a proper dancer. Taylor went over to the girl at the desk. “Do you know if we need to wear pointe shoes?”

  “Uh —” the girl stared at her. “I don’t know what pointe shoes are — are those like dance shoes?”

  “The kind of shoes that you wear so that you can stand up on your toe,” Taylor explained patiently.

  “Oooh, toe shoes,” the girl said, understanding.

  “Pointe shoes,” Taylor corrected.

  “Whatever. I don’t know, it probably doesn’t matter. I don’t think that anyone is wearing them, so whatever you want …”

  Taylor went back. “I’m just going to put them on,” she said, shaking her head. “It can’t hurt, and I can always take them off.”

  “Taylor Audley?” Taylor hopped up and went into the room. Julian stared after her, starting to get nervous. He had no idea what to expect. In a few minutes Taylor was out again.