Dance Team (2 page)

I

was glum as we gathered up our backpacks and dance bags. “Camilla hates me,” I said as we walked to the bus stop. “She's sorry she ever let me on the team!”

Olivia laughed and poked my side. “Oh, poor Izzy,” she teased. “One little bit of criticism and you're a goner. It's never personal with Camilla. She's just the most competitive person on the planet. She wants to win! Now, how about you invite me to your house? We can eat some of your mom's cookies and nail those pirouettes.”

My mom does make good cookies. She says it's her one bit of domesticity. Mom illustrates children's books for a living. She spends most of her time at a drawing table in the sunny kitchen alcove. Besides the fact that she doesn't really like housekeeping, time tends to get away from Mom when she's drawing.

That afternoon she was hunched over a pen-and-ink drawing of baby ducklings. “Hey, girls,” she said when we came in. “What do you think? Did I get the waddle right?”

Mom always gets the waddle right. I wish I could draw like she does.

“Looks super,” Olivia said cheerfully. “Do you have any cookies?”

Olivia's not shy.

Mom's face brightened. “I do!” she said. “I got stuck this morning and had to take a baking break. Oatmeal-butterscotch, extra butterscotch chips, no nuts.”

Mom put down her drawing pen and came over to the kitchen table to join us in a snack. She listened sympathetically when I told her what Camilla said about my pirouettes.

“Maybe Leah could help you practice,” she suggested when I paused for breath.

“Who's Leah?” asked Olivia through a mouthful of cookie.

I hesitated. Leah Velasco had been my next-door neighbor at our old house. She was two years older than I was, but we had been friends since we were babies. She also happened to be the captain of the Northside High dance team. Leah was a fantastic dancer, and a big reason I'd taken dance classes all my life. She knew I sort of idolized her. She had encouraged me to follow in her footsteps and join Northside's dance team.

But things had changed in the last year. Leah wasn't as happy as I thought she'd be when I called her to say I made Southside's dance team. It was almost like she was jealous of me for getting on the team on my first try. Or like she was mad at herself for wasting all those years coaching me, just so I could be on a rival squad.

Olivia sat waiting for my answer.

“Leah Velasco,” I said reluctantly. “She was our next-door neighbor at our old house.”

Olivia stopped chewing. “Leah Velasco!” she exclaimed. “
The
Leah Velasco? Captain of the Northside dance team? You know
that
Leah?”

I sighed. Everyone on the Southside dance team knew about Leah. She was a star. Leah was really the reason Northside had won regionals the last three years running.

“Yep,” I answered. “That Leah. We've been friends forever. But I don't know if she'd be too happy about helping me with my pirouettes. It's not like we're on the same team or anything. We're competitors now, not just friends.”

Mom frowned. “Oh, Leah's not like that,” she said. “Of course she'd be happy to help you!”

Mom's been friends with Leah's mom as long as I've been friends with Leah. Leah's like a second daughter to her. And Mom can never believe anything bad about anyone. She's as loyal as they come.

I decided not to argue. “We'll see,” I said. “In the meantime, Olivia and I can practice on our own.” My own loyalties were definitely mixed. “Olivia's really good too.”

It was almost funny, watching Mom try to decide who to defend. “Of course she is,” she said warmly. “I'm sure the two of you will nail those pirouettes.”

– – – – –

Olivia and I practiced for over half an hour, and we didn't nail them—not exactly. But I felt a lot more confident that I
could
nail them, if I kept practicing.

“See you tomorrow morning,” Olivia said as she was leaving. “I'll ask my brother if he can give us a ride. He goes early for cross-country practice anyhow. And wait till we tell Camilla that you know Leah Velasco! She'll be wild—Leah's been her archrival since forever!”

My heart sank as I shut the front door. Why did I think that telling Camilla I knew Leah might be a bad idea?

M

y alarm went off way too early the next morning. I barely managed to drag myself out of bed and into my dance clothes before Olivia knocked at the front door. I grabbed an energy bar and my water bottle and slipped out of the house.

Camilla got the practice under way at 6:45 exactly. She worked us hard, and I was already feeling sore at the first water break.

“Camilla!” Olivia said excitedly as we pulled out our water bottles. “Guess who's been friends with Leah Velasco since she was a baby?”

“Who?” Camilla demanded.

“Izzy!” Olivia said. For practically the first time in our friendship, I was annoyed with her. The news wasn't really Olivia's to share.

“You know Leah Velasco?” Camilla asked. “How?”

I explained about how we used to live near each other. “She used to teach me dance routines,” I said lamely.

Camilla pounced. “What kind of routines? Do you know what Northside's doing for regionals?”

“No!” I was alarmed. “We just used to fool around, and Leah would show me steps and stuff.”

Camilla bit her tongue. I could just imagine her thinking,
If Leah taught you steps, why aren't you a better dancer?

But that wasn't where Camilla's mind was going. “This could be really good,” she said. She grinned at me. “You could find out about Northside's plans for regionals and give us an edge!”

A senior named Jaci picked up on Camilla's idea. “Pick Leah's brain,” she said. “Find out what music they're using. You know, are they dancing hop-hop or pom or jazz …?”

“And what their costumes are,” added Amelia, another of Camilla's senior friends. “Are they going sexy or chic?”

“Quiz Leah,” Camilla said. “Just casually. Tell her how the pirouettes are giving you trouble, and ask what her team's stumbling blocks are. You're smart, Izzy—you could totally pull it off!”

I was feeling really uneasy. Leah might have been acting a little distant since I moved, but she was my friend, and this sounded like spying. Still, Camilla was giving me a real smile, like she and I were friends too.

“Well …,” I said. “Leah and I were planning to go to the mall Saturday afternoon. Maybe I could talk to her then.”

Camilla laughed. “Better yet, maybe you could just give her a little nudge on the escalator! A broken leg would keep Ms. Stuck-Up out of regionals!”

I tried to laugh along with the rest of the team, but I was horrified. How could Camilla suggest I do something like this to a friend, even as a joke? And Leah wasn't stuck-up!

Something in my face must have given away my true feelings. Camilla exchanged glances with Jaci and Amelia. Then she smiled at me again, warmly and reassuringly.

“I'm just kidding, Izzy,” she said. “Bad joke. Now let's get back to practice. By the way, your pirouettes are looking much better today. You must have practiced last night—I'm really impressed at how hard you're working!”

She even gave me a little hug.

So we went back to practicing. This time Camilla had nothing but praise for my dance moves. Part of me felt proud—and relieved. Maybe I really was good enough to dance at regionals with the rest of the team.

But inside I was confused. Was Camilla's praise for real? Or was she just being nice to me so I'd spy on Leah? Was I really supposed to use my friendship to help Southside beat Northside?

S

aturday afternoon started with Leah coming by after lunch.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Coleman,” she said cheerfully. “I still can't get used to not having you next door. It's just not right!”

Mom beamed at Leah. “I know—it's like old times, having you pop in. Do you want a cookie before you go to the mall? I made peanut butter —your favorite.”

“Mmmm!” Leah grabbed two cookies and threw her arms around Mom. “You're the best—and not just because of your cookies!”

“I can hardly wait till I can drive,” I sighed as we settled into Leah's car. “Just six more months till I get my permit!”

Leah and I wandered around the mall for a couple of hours. We talked and window-shopped and tried on makeup. Then we stopped on the second-floor food court for fries and sodas.

“I really love your hair, Izzy,” Leah said. “Short suits you—why didn't we ever figure this out before?”

I beamed. “I know! I never knew I had any curl until I chopped off all that weight. But what do you think—should I try some highlights?”

“No,” Leah said decisively. “You have natural highlights—why waste your time and money on something you've already got?”

The tone changed when we started to talk about dance team. Leah was the first to bring up the subject.

“So,” she said. “How's dance team coming along? My mom said your mom said you wanted to ask me about something?”

A flash of annoyance at Mom struck me. I could handle my own problems. I know I sounded flustered when I answered Leah.

“Oh, it's nothing really important,” I stammered. “I was just having trouble with some of the choreography, and Mom thought maybe you could give me some pointers.”

Leah's answer was a little cool. “Probably your own captain would be a better person to ask. Camilla's a good dancer—I'm sure she could help you out.”

I felt my cheeks get hot. Did Leah just see me as a competitor? Was being on Southside's dance team going to change our friendship?

“Look, Izzy,” Leah said. “I know you're excited to be on Southside's team. But I wouldn't get your hopes up too high about regionals. Northside has the stronger squad—that's all there is to it. Our dancers are more experienced, our team's been around longer than Southside's, we get more money from our school, and we have a professional choreographer who helps us with our routines.”

After that, I was really burning. “Northside might be better than Southside,” I said. “But that doesn't mean we don't have a chance. We're not going to just roll over and play dead. My mom should never have said anything to yours. I don't need your help!”

“Well, you sure needed it in the past,” Leah said. “Don't think I'm going to miss my chance to win regionals again. It's my senior year, and I've worked hard for this!”

There was a moment of awkward silence. We sat the food court table, pushing our french fries around in the ketchup puddle.

Leah was the first to break the silence. “I'm sorry, Izzy,” she said. She looked a little embarrassed. “I didn't mean to sound so snotty. Really, I think I'm just sad that we're not on the Northside team together. We've looked forward to that since we were little.”

She sighed. “But we're not on the same team. And you're a better dancer than you think. Of course you're going to do your best to kick my butt at regionals.” She smiled ruefully. “Just like I'm going to do my best to kick yours. But let's not fight about it. Southside has a good team. With time and practice and your kind of determination, there's no reason you can't win … just maybe not this year!”

“We'll see about that,” I said. But I was able to say it with a smile of my own.

We dumped our plates and went back out to the mall's main hallway. I think we were both happy to leave the dance conversation behind us.

We paused at the top of the escalator. “Do you have time for a manicure?” I asked. “The Salsa Spa on the first floor is running a two-for-one special this weekend. Should we see if they have a couple of openings?”

“Sure,” Leah agreed. “My nails are a mess. I haven't been biting them lately, but that's about all I can say.”