Dance Team (6 page)

S

aturday was gorgeous. Warm and sunny, with just the hint of a breeze. Leah came running out when Dad dropped Olivia and me off at her house. She'd seemed really happy when I called to suggest the bike ride, and she gave both me and Olivia big hugs.

“Hey, you two!” she said. “I'm glad to finally meet you, Olivia. I miss Izzy so much, but it's good to know she's got a friend like you.”

Whew. Leah was back to her old super-friendly self. I crossed my fingers and hoped we'd be able to avoid any dance team talk. We took a few minutes to pump up our tires, adjust our bike seats, and make sure our helmets fit.

Leah was ready first. “I'm just going to ride up and down the street a little,” she called as she coasted down the driveway. “I'll wait for you at —yikes! Help!”

I looked up just in time to see a passing car slam on its brakes while Leah veered off the driveway onto the grass, where she crashed in a heap.

“Leah!” Olivia and I ran over to her. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“My brakes didn't work!” she said. “I was trying to slow down for that car, but they didn't catch!”

The driver rolled down her window and stuck out her head. “You all right?” she called.

Leah waved. “I'm fine,” she called back. “Problem with my brakes.”

The woman shook her head. “Be careful! Better get those checked out!”

While I helped Leah up, Olivia examined her bike. “Look,” she said. “Your brake quick-release cable's undone.”

I'm not much of a bike expert. “What does that mean?” I asked. “How did it happen?”

“It's this little lever here,” Leah said, pointing. “It could have come undone on its own,” she added. “But it's never happened before.”

“Could someone have been trying to adjust it or anything, and maybe forgot to hook it up again?” Olivia asked

Leah shook her head. “I don't think so,” she said. “This is my bike. I'm the only one who ever rides it.”

I felt a shiver go down my spine. Could someone have undone the brake release deliberately? I remembered Camilla and Jaci standing behind me at the bus stop when Olivia and I were making our bike-riding plans. What was it they'd said? “Operation Bring Her Down, part three.”

“You lock your bike up in the garage at night, right?” I said, trying to sound casual.

“Not usually,” Leah said. “I just leave it in the backyard, inside the gate. Why?”

I hesitated. “Oh, I was just wondering if maybe some kids were out goofing around and thought it would be cool to mess with your bike.” I sounded pretty lame, even to myself.

Leah looked at me sharply. “Kids?” she said. “Or some of your dance team vandals?”

Her voice rose. “You think someone did this deliberately?”

Olivia and I exchanged glances. “No,” I said slowly. “I honestly can't imagine anyone doing something like this. You could have been really hurt!”

“
Did
you get hurt?” Olivia asked. “Did you skin your knees, pull any muscles?”

Leah shook her head. “I'm fine,” she said shortly. “But if I find out anyone did this on purpose …”

I was quiet for a minute. “Do you still want to go for a ride?” I asked. “We could do something else if you want. Or we could just go home…”

“No!” Leah said. “Don't go home. Probably I just bumped the brake release when I was fixing my seat. I can't believe it could have happened any other way. I'm not hurt, and I don't want to spoil our afternoon. We don't get to see each other enough, Izzy. I really don't want this whole dance competition to wreck things!”

I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn't want the competition to wreck things either. For the rest of the day, we didn't say another word about dance team.

B

efore I knew it, regionals weekend had arrived! Dad drove Olivia and me to Austin early Saturday morning. Olivia's parents would bring Mom over later in the afternoon, to see our performance.

“I'm so nervous I could barely eat breakfast,” Olivia said as we picked her up.

“Me too,” I said. “Do you think Cate and Trez and Camilla still get butterflies?”

“Probably,” Olivia said. “Just maybe not as bad.” She held up her hands. “What do you think of my manicure?”

“Whew! For a minute I thought you'd gotten color. Camilla would've killed you if you had!”

Olivia tossed her head. “I'm nervous, not crazy,” she said. “I know we need naked nails for performance. And I like French manicures better than color anyhow.”

I did too. But I'd done my own nails, using my palest neutral polish. Camilla was a stickler about us not having clashing colors during performances.

“Can you believe we're really going to regionals?” I asked. “It doesn't seem real. Wasn't it, like, yesterday that we were auditioning for the team?”

“I was just about as nervous then,” Olivia giggled. “Think how far we've come, Izzy! It's not just your pirouettes that have improved. Everything about you as a dancer is more polished and, well, just
better
than last fall.”

That was true. I
was
a much better dancer than I'd been six months before. But in the weeks before regionals, I'd been so worried about the whole Camilla-Leah thing, I hadn't really been thinking about my own dancing. I felt a spurt of anger. It wasn't fair, having my first time at a big competition spoiled! I wished I could enjoy the day without having to worry about what Camilla might or might not be planning for Leah, or about whether Leah and I would still be friends at the end!

“Thanks, Olivia,” I said. “You've gotten a lot better too. Of course, you were always a better dancer than I am!”

Before we knew it, Dad was pulling up to the campus where regionals was being held.

“Break a leg, girls!” Dad said cheerily as he dropped us off at the big university field house. I've never liked that expression, but my dad used to be in plays in college, and there's no stopping him from saying it.

“You bet, Mr. Coleman,” Olivia answered. She thinks he's funny—but then, he's not her father.

“Thanks for the ride, Dad,” I said. I leaned in the car window and gave him a quick kiss. “And if there are any broken legs, I'm holding you responsible!”

T

hings were crazy inside the field house. We found Southside's designated corner of the dressing room and dumped our stuff. Every girl was responsible for her own outfit and makeup, and Ms. Geiger was there to be sure nobody had forgotten anything.

“Olivia, Izzy,” Ms. Geiger said, checking off her clipboard. “Leggings, tunic, headband, shoes. Here —you each get a wristlet to match the headband. Put it with the rest of your costume on the rack over there. And you're good with makeup?”

We were. We hung up our outfits and then squeezed onto the bench in front of the long mirrors. Everything seemed too real as we put on our eyeliner, mascara, blush, lip gloss, and sparkly turquoise eye shadow to match our tunics.

I liked the new regionals outfit almost as much as the black-and-yellow halftime clothes. We wore tight black leggings, soft black ballet slippers, and flowing electric turquoise tunics. Judges at regionals don't like anything too sexy, but the tunic's dipping neckline and fitted waist added a touch of flashiness.

“Okay, now I'm officially nervous,” Olivia announced. “Is it too late to drop out?”

Trez was sitting next to her. “You'll be fine, Olivia,” she laughed. “You look gorgeous! And once you get onstage and hear the music, everything will fall into place.”

“Do you promise?” I asked, smoothing my eye shadow.

“I promise,” said Camilla, coming up behind us. “This is what we've been working for all year! A little bit of nerves is a good thing. You need that extra adrenaline!”

She actually gave Olivia and me quick hugs. I guess Camilla knew that for performance day, encouragement was better than criticism.

“Izzy!” I turned to see Leah hurrying towards me. “I'm glad I found you! I wanted to say good luck at your first regionals!” She dropped her dance bag on the bench next to me and gave me a huge hug. “Ooh—I like your eyeshadow!”

Camilla smiled at Leah and me. “Do you want to show Leah your costume, Izzy?” she asked.

“Sure!” I said, a little surprised. Usually Camilla's so top secret about anything involving regionals. But I guess by that point, it was too late for secrets.

“Thanks, Camilla,” Leah said. “That's nice of you.”

As Leah oohed over the slinky, glittery turquoise tunic and shiny black leggings, I glanced back at Camilla. She was hovering over Leah's dance bag. Wait—was she actually fiddling with it? In the crowded dressing room, I couldn't be sure.

Camilla picked up my bag, then Olivia's, and moved them so that she'd have room on the bench to sit and apply her makeup. Maybe my suspicions were getting the best of me, I thought. Camilla probably just moved Leah's bag for the same reason.

“Okay, Izzy, I've got to get ready myself,” Leah said. “What was it your dad always used to tell me? Break a leg!”

We both laughed. Seeing Leah calmed me down. I'd watched her perform so many times that talking to her for a bit made everything seem almost normal.

Camilla watched Leah leave. Then I saw her give Amelia a tiny, secret little thumbs-up sign. What was going on?

I didn't have much time to wonder. “Somebody, help!” Olivia wailed. “My hair's so frizzy! I can't get my ponytail right!”

“Can you help her, Izzy?” Camilla said. “You're always so good with hair.”

Flattered, I turned my attention to Olivia. Since I keep my hair short, I don't need to spend much time getting it ready. Throughout the season, I'd helped Olivia and Cate get their ponytails sleek and smooth. But I never knew Camilla had noticed.

“Relax, Olivia,” I said soothingly. “You just need more hairspray. Here—let me!”

When I was finished, Jaci asked me to do her hair too. In the rush of helping the other girls and finishing my makeup, I forgot all about the dance bags. I just wanted our squad to be perfect for regionals!

I

don't think I've ever been as nervous as I was while we got into position and waited for the judges to give us the go-ahead sign. Waiting is the worst!

But Trez was right. Once the music started and we started dancing, it was great! We had chosen a sassy jazz routine with lots of big leaps and flashy turns. We started out in a single straight line, with our backs to the audience, tapping our toes back and forth to the music's beat. Then we turned to face the crowd, three at a time, in perfect synchronization. After that, we moved into our opening formation.

The crowd loved our routine. It gave us lots of cheering support as we moved from one formation to another. And we deserved it, if I do say so myself! We were tight and in sync, and our energy levels were out of this world. Everyone hit their turns, our leaps were huge, and we didn't have to pretend-act to get our excitement across to the audience.