Bust a Move (16 page)

Who wrote this?
Her eyes whipped to the bottom. And she saw the name of every single kid in her group. What used to be her group.

Emerson felt a slow flood of warmth spread out from her heart all the way to her face and her fingertips and her toes as she began to read the letter again from the beginning. They all cared. That's what this was saying. They all cared that she was gone, and they wanted her back.

“Your teammates made some good points, I thought,” her father commented.

“You
have
always taught me that commitments mean something,” Emerson answered, choosing each word carefully. She had a feeling that maybe, just maybe—fingers and toes crossed—she was going to get to be a Hip Hop Kid again.

“But didn't we also teach you not to lie?” her mother asked.

“Yes,” Emerson said. There was no other response.

“That's true,” her father agreed. “And you can't pick and choose which of our rules is convenient to obey.”

Emerson nodded, her brand-new hope already beginning to drain away, leaving her chilled. It was hard to believe that after already doling out the worst punishment imaginable, Emerson's parents still weren't satisfied with the amount of psychic pain they'd inflicted on her. Hence their decision to share with her the letter that
almost
reinstated her as a Hip Hop Kid. Ladies and gentlemen, the twisted logic of Mr. and Mrs. Thomas L. Lane.

“Check this out,” Max said, bouncing her weight from one foot to the other. “I found it online at school and printed a copy. It's about the crew that came in first at the South-west regionals.”

Sophie's eyes flicked to the door of the practice room. Was ill papi going to show up for class today? Had she convinced him?

“You mean the crew we're going to crush at the nationals,” Ky said, grinning.

“Yeah, baby. That's who I'm talking about.” Max waved the sheet of computer paper. “They're from Los Angeles. Hip Hop Shoowop, they're called. This says that they bounce off each other's backs doing Lindy moves and that they mix in capoeira and some martial arts postures.”

“Sounds like it could be awesome. Or hideous,” Chloe commented.

“The blogger loved it,” Max said. “But maybe the blogger's in the group.”

Sophie's eyes went to the door again. It's not that she didn't care about the competition they'd be facing down. But their best defense against any competition was ill papi—right?

“But Lindy?” Rachel wrinkled her nose. “Like swing dancing? To fifties music?”

“Not everyone loves that alternative stuff—” Allan began.

“You listen to, Rach,” Adam finished.

“I think the swing mix sounds kind of cool,” Becca said. “Emerson made the ballet and hip-hop fusion work. Why not swing? Some of those jumps and spins they do are pretty fun to watch.”

“And capoeira. I want those skills,” Fridge added. “Have you seen that? I play Tekken 5 all the time.”

“Tekken 5?” M.J. shook his head. “Man, capoeira isn't some video game. Brazilian slaves created it. They made it look like they were dancing to fool the whites. They were really doing martial arts training. Their feet were in manacles most of the time—that's why there are so many moves where you're on your hands.”

“Did they have any video online, Max?” Sammi asked. “We should watch it if they do.”

“Especially because we'll be going into the nationals without Emerson, Devane, and probably ill papi,” M.J. said.

Sophie smiled as she checked the door again. “Well, maybe not.”

Sammi's heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest, fly across the room, and smack right into ill papi when she saw him walk into the practice room. That's how happy she was to know he was alive and okay. And still so completely cute.

Ill papi didn't even look at her. Not that he usually looked at her. But after all this time, she thought maybe he would have missed her a little.

No. He walked straight over to Sophie. He leaned in close to her and whispered something in her ear—like he was her boyfriend or something. Whatever it was he said, it made Sophie laugh. Then she whispered something back that made ill papi laugh. And Sammi got hit with a full-on case of the jealouses. She was jealous over her little sister. That was so wrong. In so many ways.

“Ills, you're back!” Fridge yelled. He wrapped his arms around ill papi, lifting him right off his feet.

Which ended Sophie and ill papi's little whisper party, at least.

Fridge put ill papi down, and Max immediately leapt on him. “Where were you? Are you okay? Where have you been? Hey, we came in first at the regionals. Without you!”

“But there is no way we're taking the nationals without you. So you better be at every class from now till then. And at the competition. Or I'm coming after you,” M.J. warned with a smile.

Sammi wished she could run over and grab ill papi. But she felt glued to the floor. All she could do was stare.

Ky said something to her, but Sammi didn't quite understand it. “What?” she asked, her eyes still on ill papi and the fan club. Was he ever going to look over at her?

Ky repeated whatever he'd said, but Sammi didn't catch it that time, either. “Sorry, what?” she said, without turning toward him.

Ky said the words again, louder. But Sammi was trying to hear what Sophie was saying to ill papi now. Something funny. He was laughing again. Everyone was laughing.

Sammi realized she still hadn't heard what Ky wanted to tell her. She looked over at him, but he was gone. He was sitting across the room with his back toward her.

She'd really hurt his feelings. She took a step toward him, then hesitated. Maybe ill papi would come over and say hi in a second. Then Sammi would go apologize to Ky.

“Look who's back!” Gina exclaimed as she walked into the room.

“We know! Ill papi!” Sophie cried. Then she noticed someone else standing next to Gina and gave a gigantic squeal. “Emerson!” She raced to the front of the room and wrapped her friend in a boa constrictor hug.

“Don't break her, Soph,” M.J. teased. “We need her to be able to dance in L.A. With her and ill papi, we're going to be the world champs. No doubt.” He clasped his hands over his head like a boxer.

Emerson gently pulled away from Sophie. “You don't have to worry about that,” she told everyone. “If every bone in my body was broken, I'd dance. Team first, just like you guys said in the letter you sent my parents.”

She was still blown away that the whole group had done that for her. “Nothing I said to them made any difference. But my parents are really big on me honoring my commitments. So thank you for telling them that it was important for me to go to the world championship with you. Because we're getting there, right?”

“Right!” a couple of people yelled back. But everyone else looked a little confused.

“We're glad that letter worked,” Devane jumped in. “We wrote it together, and we all signed it. Max came up with the part about how important teamwork is to the Hip Hop Kidz, remember?” Devane shot a hard glance at Max—and Max started nodding like a bobble-head doll.

“And M.J. was all about putting in how you made a commitment and you had to follow through,” Devane added.

“Yeah. Right,” M.J. said. “I'm a genius with the letter writing. But it was all Devane's idea.”

“Well, thanks, Devane. I wouldn't be here if you hadn't thought of it,” Emerson told her. Devane had really come through for her big time.

“I owe you a thanks, too, Devane,” Gina said. “This letter you pulled together sounds impressive. It was a great thing you did for the team. Let's everybody give Devane a big round of applause.”

“I can't believe your parents let you come back after one letter,” Sophie said to Emerson when they finally stopped clapping. “I mean, I thought we'd have to plan out something like a bank robbery where we blasted you out of your room with dynamite in order to get you back.”

“I didn't think there was any possible way my mom and dad would ever allow me to come back, either,” Emerson answered. “But like I said, commitment is a big deal to them. Lying is a big deal, too. But commitment won because they didn't want something I did to hurt all of you at the world championship. They didn't think that would be fair. Fairness is a big deal to them, too.”

“Let's give it up for Emerson and ill papi!” Devane yelled. “You know we're going to represent at world now that we've got them both back!”

At least one part of my plan worked,
Devane thought as she led the applause.
The big, important part. Emerson is back in the group. And now the group has a shot at winning the world championship. More than that now that ill papi has shown himself again.

“Ill papi, you don't know how glad I am to see you,” Gina said when the applause died down. “But unless you've been unconscious these past weeks or stranded on a remote island with no phone—you haven't, have you?”

Ill papi shook his head. “No. Uh, sorry. I know I should have called you.”

“Yes, you should have,” Gina told him. “You know the rules. You don't miss a class without notice. And you missed several classes and a competition. A competition everyone on your team worked very hard for.”

Uh-oh. This is not sounding good for ill papi,
Devane thought.
Gina is all about the team.

“I messed up. We could have lost the regionals because of me. And then we'd be through. No nationals or anything.” Ill papi scrubbed his face with his fingers. “If you guys don't want me back, I get that.”

There were a bunch of “no's” and “no way's” and “uhuh's.”