by Tiler Peck
Katarina nodded.
“Everyone, welcome Katarina,” Madame Alla said to the class as she escorted Katarina to an open spot at the barre. “I expect you to be kind and helpful since she is new here.”
“What, on this planet?” the blond ballerina who’d spoken to Katarina earlier whispered to another girl. The two of them giggled until Madame Alla gave them a sharp look. Katarina wanted to just melt through the floor and disappear.
“Hey, don’t pay attention to them,” the girl standing beside Katarina said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “Honestly, they’re probably just jealous. Your tutu’s awesome, and these uniforms we have to wear are soooo boring.”
Katarina gave her a little smile. At least there was one nice person here. “Thanks.”
“Mr. Simeone, music please!” Madame Alla said.
The man sitting at the piano bench began to play.
“And two demi pliés and one grand in first, second, fourth, and fifth positions,” Madame Alla called out.
This was obviously an exercise the class always did, but it was different from the one Katarina had learned from a YouTube video. She tried to follow along, but every time the group moved to the next exercise, it took her a couple of beats to catch up. She felt like she was running on a treadmill that just kept getting faster and faster and any second she’d go flying off of it.
“We’re about to do grand pliés in fifth,” the girl beside her whispered.
Katarina knew grand pliés were deep knee bends, but she still got the different positions mixed up. “Um… which one’s fifth again?”
“Your legs are crossed, right in front of left, toes turned out so they kind of meet the other heel.”
“Oh, right!” Katarina said, suddenly remembering. When everyone else switched positions, she was able to move with them. “Thanks!”
By the time barre was over, Katarina’s legs already felt a little wobbly and weak beneath her. This class was a lot harder than dancing alone in her bedroom, and they hadn’t even gotten to the actual dancing yet!
“All right, class, let’s move into center.” Madame Alla had them come to the middle of the floor, facing the huge mirror at the front of the room. While everyone else blended together, Katarina stuck out like a sore thumb. She tried not to look at her own reflection too much as Madame Alla began to teach them a combination of steps.
“Let’s start out with something simple,” she said. “We are starting in fifth position croisé. Two tendus to the front, two tendus to the back, then three tendus to the side, changing legs, and a demi plié straighten. Left side.”
Everyone else in the class nodded like they understood perfectly. For a second Katarina thought maybe there was something wrong with her ears. She could tell Madame Alla was speaking some French, but it was not like the French she was learning at school. Was it? Or was Katarina not hearing right?
“Mr. Simeone!” Madame Alla said. He immediately began to play a jaunty little song, and she counted off. The dancers began their tendus in perfect unison. Every time they changed their tendu direction, their port de bras—their arm movements—changed as well.
The combination of the port de bras and the perfect, sharp leg movements was unlike anything Katarina had ever seen. They made it look so easy. Katarina tried to follow along, but she had no idea what she was doing, and her colorful costume in the mirror just made her flailing all the more obvious.
“No, no, no!” Madame Alla said, waving at Mr. Simeone to stop playing. Katarina froze, afraid she was about to be pointed out as the disaster she was in front of everybody (not that they couldn’t already see it for themselves). But Madame Alla didn’t even look at her as she continued. “It is all wrong. Where is the aplomb? Where are the straight legs and pointed toes? Where are my pretty fingers and pretty feet? Celeste, please show us.”
The blond ballerina from earlier, who was wearing a confident smirk, took a step forward. Mr. Simeone played, and she demonstrated the combination by herself. Katarina’s mouth dropped open. She might not be very nice, but she was the most beautiful dancer Katarina had ever seen.
“Now, let us try it again,” Madame Alla said.
Katarina struggled through the rest of the class, trying to keep up with the others and failing miserably. What she’d thought would be one of the best days of her life had become one of the worst. She’d been kidding herself to think she could do this. She had half a mind to just throw away the stupid paper tutu and quit before she embarrassed herself even more.
Finally, mercifully, the class was over. As the other dancers grabbed their bags and began to stream out of the studio, Madame Alla placed a hand on Katarina’s shoulder.
“I know today was hard,” she said. “You have much to learn. But the next class will be easier.”
It wasn’t exactly the most encouraging speech, but Katarina did feel a little better. She turned to leave and found the girl who’d complimented her tutu waiting for her by the door.
“Hi,” she said. “Katarina, right?”
Katarina nodded. “Yeah.”
“I’m Sunny Kapoor,” she said. “Are you totally miserable after that class?”
Katarina couldn’t help but laugh. “A little. Is it that obvious?”
“Kind of,” she admitted. “So… do you want some help?”
Chapter 6
AFTER SUCH A disastrous first ballet class, Katarina was so grateful for Sunny’s offer of help that she hugged the girl right then and there. As she hugged Sunny, Katarina glanced up and saw a surprise: her dad!
“Hi, honey,” her dad said, grinning. “How did my favorite ballerina do today?” He walked over and gave her a big hug.
Katarina sighed. “Not too great?”
Dad ruffled her hair. “The first class is always going to be the hardest one. I’m sure it will be better the next time!”
That’s what Madame Alla said. Katarina wasn’t so sure about that. Suddenly, she remembered Sunny was still waiting.
“Oh, Dad, this is Sunny. Sunny, this is my dad,” Katarina said. “Sunny promised she would help me with… everything! I’m a mess.”
Sunny laughed. “Oh, you’re not that bad! You just need a few pointers. First of all, this”—she waved at Katarina’s homemade dance outfit—“is cool and all, but it’s got to go.”
Katarina nodded. “Definitely.”
“Okay, my prima ballerina,” Katarina’s dad said. “I decided to stick around to do some work in the area and figured you could use a treat after your first class. Sunny, do you want to join us?”
“Yes!” Sunny said. Katarina smiled. Between Sunny and her dad, she was already feeling a teensy bit better. As they walked down the street, Katarina spotted a big dance clothing display in the window of a store: Happy Feet. It looked like it had all kinds of dance shoes and rows of colorful leotards hanging up.
Katarina looked at her dad. “Dad, can we just go in to look?” she asked.
Her dad hesitated but nodded. “Sure. Let’s see what’s in here. It sounds like you might need some more dance attire, don’t you?”
As they went inside, Katarina and Sunny started looking through the leotards in the front of the store.
A nice-looking sales associate came out from the back. “Can I help you?”
“My daughter needs some more things for her ballet class,” Katarina’s dad explained. With Sunny’s help, Katarina picked out a basic black leotard and pink tights just like the ones all the other girls in Madame Alla’s class wore. Now at least Katarina would look the part. They took the items up to the register.
“Dad, are you sure this is okay?” Katarina asked quietly.
Her dad gave her a small smile. “Don’t worry about it, Katarina. You just worry about having fun and learning in your new class.” He gave her a kiss on the head and handed her the bag.
“I’d better start heading home,” Sunny said. “My parents will worry if I’m late.”
“Where do you live?” Katarina as
ked.
“Queens.”
Katarina’s eyes lit up. “Me too! We can ride the subway together!”
“Perfect!” Sunny said.
They walked to the nearby subway station, Katarina’s dad a few steps behind, and Katarina peppered Sunny with questions all along the way.
“I didn’t understand so much of what Madame Alla was saying,” Katarina said. “I know a lot was French… but was she speaking Russian, too?”
Sunny shook her head. “Just French. Most ballet we do today was originally developed in France, and we still use the French terms for most things.”
Katarina sighed. “How am I ever going to learn all that? I thought all I needed to catch up on was dancing technique, but now I have to learn a whole new language?”
“I’ll help you. And you don’t have to learn the whole language,” Sunny said. “All I know how to say in French other than ballet stuff is ‘je suis le pamplemousse.’ ”
“Wow,” Katarina said, impressed. “What does that mean?”
Sunny grinned. “ ‘I am the grapefruit.’ ”
Katarina burst into laughter.
“I know it wouldn’t be very helpful if I ever went to France,” Sunny said, “but I like the way it sounds!”
They descended the stairs to the subway platform and got onto the next train that pulled into the station. Katarina and Sunny were so busy chatting that it took Katarina a second to realize she was tapping her toe along to the sound of music.
“I wonder if that’s…” She craned her neck, trying to look around the people crowding the train car. Then she spotted him. “It’s Beatz!”
“Who?”
Katarina grabbed Sunny’s hand and pulled her along down the car until they were standing in front of Beatz, who was playing a song on his musical contraption.
“That’s so cool,” Sunny whispered as Beatz strummed his guitar, blew into his harmonica, and jerked his arms and legs to play his drums all at once.
When the song was over, Beatz smiled at the girls. “Hey, it’s Katarina the ballerina! And Katarina’s friend! How was your first class?”
“It was kind of a disaster,” Katarina said, “but that’s okay. This is Sunny. She’s a dancer too. And my dad is sitting right over there.” Her dad waved from his seat.
“Nice to meet you, Sunny,” Beatz said, then waved to Katarina’s dad. “Now, let me see your dance moves!”
Beatz began to play another song, and Katarina and Sunny danced along with his music. It was so much fun that Katarina forgot all about the terrible dance class.
* * *
After that day, Katarina and Sunny became inseparable. Sunny lived in Long Island City, just a couple of subway stops from Katarina. On days when they didn’t have ballet class, they would often meet at the park after school to play with Lulu or go over to each other’s houses to spend the night on the weekends. Sunny made her a ballet dictionary of the French terms she’d need to know and quizzed her on them, and she taught Katarina the warm-up Madame Alla always did with her class. They also traveled to and from Manhattan together whenever they did have ballet class. Most days Beatz was on the train too, and they’d dance together while he played his instruments. Katarina loved her school friends like Amelie and Grant, but it was great having a new friend who liked the same things she did.
Madame Alla’s class was still hard for Katarina, though. Even with Sunny helping her to catch up, she had a long way to go until she knew as much as the other dancers. Now that she had the right uniform, her clothing blended in, but she still stood out because her technique wasn’t as good as everyone else’s. But it didn’t bother Katarina as much as it would have before because she and Sunny were having so much fun together.
“For the last combination in class, please pay attention,” Madame Alla said one day. “Four piqué turns and a tombé pas de bourrée glissade jeté across the floor.”
“Did she say ‘pamplemousse’?” Sunny whispered to Katarina. Katarina laughed out loud, and then clapped her hand over her mouth in horror when she realized what she’d done. Madame Alla was looking at her sternly in the mirror, and beside her Sunny was turning red in the face as she tried not to laugh too.
Madame Alla clapped her hands. “Line up!”
The dancers all congregated in one corner of the studio. Katarina and Sunny made sure to stand next to each other.
“Sorry about that,” Sunny said to her quietly.
Katarina gave her a look. “No, you’re not.”
“You’re right.” Sunny grinned. “It was too funny for me to be sorry.”
Katarina gave her a little shove as the dancers, one by one, started doing their turns and the combination across the length of the dance floor.
“Hey, did your dad say it was okay for you to come over this weekend?” Sunny asked. “The movie theater near my house is showing Leap! and you have to see it.”
“Yeah, I can’t wait,” Katarina said.
Celeste, who was standing right in front of Katarina, began to do her combination across the floor. Of course Celeste’s was the best, gliding and moving across the floor all with the most grace and perfect extension and line. But Katarina had the chance to admire only a little of Celeste’s moves before it was her turn to start going across the floor. Just a few feet behind Celeste, she began to do her best turns, trying to mimic the other girl’s grace and power. But then Celeste stopped leaping. Katarina had already jumped, and there was nothing she could do but watch as she went crashing into Celeste and both of them tumbled to the floor.
“What are you doing?” Celeste demanded. She untangled her arms and legs from Katarina and stood up, looking down at her. “Pay attention!”
“Are either of you injured?” Madame Alla asked.
Katarina stood up and brushed herself off. “No, madame.”
“That is good, but you must pay more attention, Katarina,” Madame Alla said. “I said I wanted everyone to do four piqué turns, but you did five before the grand jetés. You are lucky neither you nor Celeste was hurt. You will stay behind and see me after class.”
When class was over, the other dancers began to gather their things and leave. Katarina could have sworn Celeste was smirking as she brushed by her and out the door. Sunny gave Katarina’s hand a squeeze.
“I’ll wait for you outside,” she said softly.
Katarina nodded. Her heart was hammering in her ears. She turned around, expecting to find Madame Alla still in the dance studio, but the room was empty except for the little brown dog sleeping beside the piano.
“Lapochka!” Madame Alla called. Her voice came from the direction of her office, which was just off the dance studio. At the sound of his name, the tiny dog jumped up and trotted into the office. And then Madame Alla said, “Katarina!”
With a little less enthusiasm than the dog, Katarina walked to Madame Alla’s office. It felt like she was wearing lead shoes, and it took every bit of effort she had to take each step.
She found Madame Alla sitting in a chair behind a desk in the small office, dunking a tea bag into a delicate china teacup. The woman gestured for Katarina to sit in the chair opposite her. Katarina waited, hardly able to breathe, as Madame Alla squeezed the tea bag with a spoon, blew across the top of the liquid, and took a slow sip.
“So, Katarina,” she finally said. “You are a very promising dancer.”
Katarina blinked. That wasn’t what she’d been expecting. She’d come in here expecting to be in trouble, not to be praised.
“I… I am?” she said.
Madame Alla nodded. “You have wonderful musicality and expressiveness when you dance. These are gifts that cannot be taught. It makes people want to watch you.”
Katarina was stunned. “Thank you.”
Madame Alla arched an eyebrow at her. “But!”
“But?” Katarina echoed with a cringe.
“But you will never be a truly great ballet dancer unless you apply yourself,” she said. “I am happ
y that you have fun in class, because having a passion and joy for dance is essential to being a great dancer. But ballet is not just about passion. Ballet is also about hard work and discipline.”
Katarina nodded. She knew Madame Alla was right. “Yes, madame.”
“You still have much to learn about ballet technique,” Madame Alla continued, “and you will not learn it if you are… what is the term? ‘Gooping off’?”
Katarina frowned. “Do you mean ‘goofing off’?”
“Ah, yes,” Madame Alla said. “You will not learn if you are goofing off with Sunny during class. You could be a great dancer, Katarina, but you must work for it. Is that something you are willing to do?”
“Oh, yes, madame!” Katarina said. “I really do want to keep learning and getting better. I promise I’ll work harder.”
“Very good,” Madame Alla said, giving Katarina one of her rare smiles. “Now, off you go, and I will see you next week.”
Katarina thanked her and gave Lapochka a quick pet on her way out the door. She found Sunny waiting her for on the sidewalk just outside the studio.
“What did she say?” Sunny asked. “Was she mad?”
Katarina shook her head. “She just told me I need to work harder and stop gooping off with you if I want to be a great dancer.”
“… gooping?” Sunny repeated.
Katarina smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “That’s what she said! Now let’s get going. I don’t want my dad to worry.”
* * *
After the subway ride home with Sunny, Katarina walked the few blocks back to her apartment building, waved at the orange cat in the window across the street, and entered her building. As she climbed the third set of stairs up to her floor, she could hear her dad talking to someone on the other side of their door. The walls in their building were so thin that sometimes she could even hear Mr. Epstein next door, who got terrible hay fever in the summer, sneeze.
“I know,” her dad was saying. “I just need a small loan to tide me over. Money’s been really tight lately, and the bills are piling up.”