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Authors: Katherine Applegate

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BOOK: Don't Tap-Dance on Your Teacher
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5
The Amazing Coolness of Noisy Shoes

“I just had my first tap dance lesson yesterday,” Emma said.

She put on the shoes. When she walked on the carpet, they just sounded like plain old everyday shoes.

But on the hard floor, an amazing thing happened!

Emma's feet went
click! click! click!

Those tappers made some serious noise.

Emma tapped and twirled, and we all clapped for her.

“Amazing tapping, Earth girl,” I said into my Mr. Megaphone.

“Very nice, Emma,” said Ms. Diz. “And that's probably enough Mr. Megaphone for today, Roscoe. For the year, actually.”

I put down the megaphone and raised my hand. “Can boys do tap dancing?” I asked.

Wyatt laughed. “Guys don't tap-dance,” he said. “Guys do football and soccer.”

“Girls can do soccer,” Emma said.

Coco stood up. She put her hands on her hips. “Also, I would like to point out that girls rule and boys drool.”

“Coco, please watch your words,” Ms.

Diz said.

Gus raised his hand. “Ms. Diz?” he said. “Dogs drool. Cats not so much.”

“Thank you for that, Gus,” said Ms. Diz.

She took a deep breath.

She breathes a lot, actually.

“As it happens, Wyatt, there are many famous male tap dancers,” said Ms. Diz. “And Emma is right. Some of the best soccer players in the world are girls.”

She thought for a second. Then she snapped her fingers.

“There's something I want you all to see,” Ms. Diz said. “I'll give Ms. Bunelli a quick call right now!”

Ms. Bunelli is the school media center specialist.

But she says just call her the Library Lady.

There are about a kazillion books and DVDs and cool things in the library. I do not know how she has time to keep track of them all.

I think maybe she never goes home.

A few minutes later, Ms. Bunelli came
to our class. She was rolling a tall cart with a TV set on it.

“Class,” said Ms. Diz. “Ms. Bunelli has brought us a DVD of an amazing tap dancer. I think you're going to enjoy this!”

Ms. Bunelli pushed some buttons on the DVD player.

And suddenly, there on the TV, was a man tap-dancing!

Rat-tat-tat BOUNCE!

Rat-tat-tat BOUNCE!

“Hey, that guy is a guy!” Wyatt said.

The tapping man spun and jumped and tapped so fast it made my eyes
and
my ears dizzy.

Rat-tat-TAT!

He whirled faster and faster—and got louder and louder.

RATATATTATATATTATATAT!

I never dreamed feet could make so much noise!

“Those tap shoes are the best,” I whispered to Emma. “If I had those, I would tap twenty-four hours a day!”

“You should take tap dance with me,” Emma whispered back. “We'd have so much fun together!”

My very own noisy shoes?

“Emma,” I said, “you are a genius.”

6
The King of Tap

It took a while to convince Mom and Dad I really wanted to take tap dance lessons.

When I brought it up at dinner that night, they both made sighing noises.

“Remember when you wanted to take pottery?” Mom asked.

“Or karate?” Dad said.

“Or ice skating?” Mom added.

“I didn't know it would be so cold at the skating rink,” I said.

“Roscoe,” Dad said. “You promised you would stick to those things. And you quit every time.”

“This time it'll be different, Dad,” I said. “I promise!”

“Can I take tap dancing with Roscoe?” my little sister, Hazel, asked. “They have pretend tap shoes at Toys Or Else.”

“We'll see,” said my mom.

Which is Parent for “Don't Count on It.”

Max, my older brother, was balancing a lima bean on his nose.

“Roscoe, are you sure about tap dance?” he asked.

“Totally sure,” I said. “Why?”

“Guys might tease you about it,” Max said.

“Tease him?” said Mom. “Why?”

“Because dancing is kind of a girl thing to do is all,” Max said. “Gee, Mom. Do you live in a cave or what?”

“Your Uncle Joe took ballet for a year while he was in college,” Dad said. “To help him with his football footwork.”

Max made a
no-way
face. “Really? Like with a frilly tutu?”

“I'm fairly certain there weren't any tutus involved,” Dad said.

“Boys do so tap-dance,” I said. “Ms. Diz even showed us a DVD of a tap guy. There will probably be lots of boys in my class.”

Max looked up at the ceiling and groaned.

Which is Brother for “You Are Such a Doofus.”

“Please can I do this?” I begged my
parents. “I absolutely promise I won't quit this time.”

Mom looked at Dad. Dad looked at Mom.

My parents have entire conversations without ever opening their mouths.

“I suppose you could give it a try,” Mom said finally. “But I want you to stick with it, no matter what.”

“I will!” I cried. “I will for sure stick!”

“Can I have Roscoe's tap shoes when he quits?” Hazel asked.

“We'll see,” said Mom.

“Don't hold your breath, Hazel,” I said. “Because I am going to tap dance FOREVER!”

 

That weekend, Mom found some tap shoes at a yard sale.

They weren't all shiny and new like Emma's.

But they were just as loud.

I practiced tapping on the kitchen
floor. (Great taps!)

The living room carpet. (Crummy taps.)

My bed. (No taps. But terrific bounces.)

And the bathtub.

You get LOUD taps out of a bathtub, let me tell you.

I decided it was my favorite place to tap.

My mom decided I was going to have to clean the bathtub.

But it was worth it.

I was a tapping fool. A crazy tapping machine.

I was going to love,
love
, LOVE tap dancing!

Forever.

7
Surrounded

Finally it was time for my very first tap lesson.

Emma's mom drove us there.

The tap dance place was an old brick building. It had a sign that said
TRIXIE'S TIP-TOP TAP STUDIO
.

We were a little late. So Emma and I ran inside as fast as we could.

A lady with her gray hair in a twisty circle on her head was standing near the door.

She had on a black skirt and shiny tap shoes with bright red bows.

“Emma! Slow down, dear! We are just about to start class,” said the lady.

“Miss Trixie, this is Roscoe Riley,” Emma said. “He's new.”

“Wonderful!” said Miss Trixie. “I am ecstatic to have an enthusiastic young gentleman like yourself join our ranks!”

I looked at Emma. She likes big words more than I do.

“She's glad to have you in the class,” she explained.

“Oh,” I said. “I'm glad to have me in the class too.”

We followed Miss Trixie into a giant room.

The shiny wooden floor looked just like the one in the school gym. One wall was made of mirrors.

I waved to myself.

Emma and I rushed to a bench by the wall and put on our tap shoes.

The air was full of
clicks
and
clacks
.

Miss Trixie clapped her hands.

“Tappers! Let the glorious fun begin!” she cried.

“That means it's time to get in line,” said
Emma. “Stand next to me.”

Miss Trixie went to the middle of the room.

“Ladies,” she said, “I am most delighted to introduce the newest member of our tap team, Mr. Roscoe Riley! Roscoe, take a bow, won't you?” Miss Trixie asked.

My face got hot. But I bowed.

As I straightened up, I saw myself in the wall of mirrors.

I saw my tap shoes. And my ears that
stick out a little too much.

I saw my pink cheeks. And my striped shirt and my nice worn-in jeans.

I saw a long row of tappers.

I saw tall tappers and freckled tappers and tappers with missing teeth.

But there was one thing I did not see.

I did not see one single other boy.

8
The Gentleman

I was in a totally guyless room.

A boy-free zone.

A sea of pink.

“Why didn't you tell me there aren't any boys in this class?” I whispered to Emma.

Emma looked surprised. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it matters!” I whispered back.

I wasn't even exactly sure
why
it mattered.

Except that it meant maybe Max had been right, after all.

Maybe tap dancing was For Girls Only.

That meant kids at school would tease me.

Bully-breath Wyatt already had a long list of bully nicknames for me.

I did not need to have him add another one.

“Let's start with some heel-toes,” Miss Trixie said.

I raised my hand. “Miss Trixie?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I…uh…” I swallowed. “I'm going to sit on the bench for a minute. There's a stone in my shoe, I think.”

“By all means!” she said.

I sat down on a bench and yanked off one of my tap shoes.

Tinkly music filled the room.

“Let's start with our dance called ‘The Mice and the Elephants'!” said Miss Trixie.

The girls began to tap their toes.

“Twinkle toes! Twinkle toes!” Miss Trixie said. “Tip-tap! Tip-tap!”

While she twinkled, Emma looked over her shoulder at me.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

I nodded.

But I wasn't okay.

I was the only boy in a gigantic roomful of girls.

I pretended to look for a rock in my shoe.

“Let's heel-toe in a circle, lovely little
mice!” Miss Trixie called.

Everyone tiptoed. All those clicks made a wonderful sound.

The music changed. It got slow and loud and thumpy.

“Time for the elephants!” called Miss Trixie. “Clomp and stomp like glorious pachyderms!”

I watched Emma stamp her tap shoes. She swung her arms together like a long trunk.

If
pachyderm
meant “elephant” in normal language, then Emma was being a great one.

Slowly I put my tap shoe back on.

I tried out a few clomps while I sat on the bench.

It was hard
not
to clomp, with all that
thump, thump, thumping
elephant music.

It felt good to make so much noise and
not even get yelled at.

“Roscoe? Will you be joining us today?” Miss Trixie called.

I didn't answer right away.

But finally I said, “I guess a little clomping couldn't hurt.”

I ran over and joined the circle of girls.

I tried out some mouse tiptoes.

“Excellent, Mr. Riley!” said Miss Trixie. “Now try the pachyderm part!”

I clomped and swung and tiptoed and twinkled.

“A glorious job!” said Miss Trixie. “And it was nice to have the addition of our fine new gentleman tapper!”

My face got a little hot again.

But I didn't mind so much.

We learned more steps during the rest of the class.

My favorite step was called STOMP-STOMP-CLAP.

I had such a good time making noise, I almost forgot about being the only gentleman in a roomful of girls.

When the lesson was over, Emma and I took off our tap shoes and put our regular ones back on.

“So?” Emma said. “What do you think?”

“It was awesome,” I said.

“Does that mean you're going to keep coming? Even if you're the only guy?”

I thought. But only for a mini second.

“You better believe it!” I said.

“I'm glad,” said Emma.

“Me too,” I said.

To celebrate, we did a high five.

With our tap shoes on our hands.

BOOK: Don't Tap-Dance on Your Teacher
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