I Forgot to Tell You (10 page)

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Leah demanded.

Alexandra shrugged. “It's my ankle — it really hurts, I pulled or twisted something, I think.”

“But you got through dress rehearsal no problem, right?”

“Yeah — sort of — it hurts a lot more now that I'm cold.”

“Glove compartment. There's got to be some Tylenol in there.”

Alexandra obediently began to dig around in the glove compartment, pulling out no fewer than six bottles of Tylenol, two of Advil, a couple packets of prescription painkillers, and a large bottle of Aleve.

“You plan on being in a lot of pain during the zombie apocalypse?” Alexandra asked dryly.

“Shut up and take some Tylenol. Put those bottles back,” Leah said testily. “Okay, so we're going to Harbour — they're casting some new pilot or whatever, anyway, they're having an open call for contemporary dancers, and I thought you should audition.”

“Thanks,” Alexandra said, dismayed, “but I can barely walk.”

“Look at the clock,” Leah said impatiently. “You have half an hour, the pills will have kicked in by then. This business is not for people who make excuses, Alexandra. Besides, I doubt that they will want you to do much, I think it's just for look.”

“Okay, okay, okay.” Alexandra swallowed two extra-strength Tylenol dry.

“I would've gone for the Aleve myself,” Leah said.

“I wouldn't,” Alexandra said honestly. “I had some of that stuff when I was in the States during the summer; it really hit me for a loop.”

“That's because you are too skinny,” Leah complained. She took one hand away from her steering wheel and hit Alexandra's chest.

“Ow,” Alexandra complained.

“Women are supposed to have boobs, Alexandra.”

“Boobs are gross.”

“Have you even had your period yet?”

“Oh my freaking God, Leah! Please don't say period. Like, ever. Ew.”

“I'm just asking. Somebody should be. Okay, get out — wait.” Leah parked and turned around, beginning to dig through a large pile of dance clothing and costumes in the back seat. “Here. I think these are Anna's. She left them last time she came to take class, so they should fit you.” Leah handed Alexandra a pair of black shorts and a sports bra that had been gathered in the middle so that it curved down between the breasts like a normal bra.

“Okay. Thanks.”

“No problem. Phone me when you are out, I'll pick you up — you are in no state to walk.”

Alexandra gingerly got out of the car. “Or dance. I hope this kicks in soon.”

“Here. Take a bottle with you.” Leah handed her one of the bottles of Tylenol, and Alexandra began to slowly climb the many steps leading up to Harbour Dance Centre's studios.

As Alexandra walked up she realized that she had forgotten to ask Leah what exactly she was auditioning for.
Oh well. There can't be too many auditions taking place on a Wednesday night at a drop-in dance centre.
She walked up to the desk. “Heeeeey … I'm here for the audition?”

“Fill this out, hon.”

“Thanks.” Alexandra took the form with her into the bathroom and got changed, then filled it out. It didn't say much — just that she was auditioning for Trident Dancer. She wondered if she should take her hair down or not. She looked at herself in the mirror. No, better just have it in a ponytail since she didn't know what they would want her to do. She left the change room and went to the studio to wait, starting to stretch. It felt good to be auditioning for something that she didn't feel any pressure about. If there were no expectations, then she didn't have to feel bad if she didn't get it.
Plus
, she thought as she watched the other dancers trickle into the room,
it doesn't look like anyone else is any good.
Her body felt nice, tired but warm and stretched out. If it wasn't for her foot, she'd feel perfect. She stood up and
grand battemented
her foot backwards, high above her head, letting her back sink down in the way that would get her
so
yelled at if she was in ballet class, but was so much fun to do. Down, and up, swinging her leg like the arm on an old grandfather clock.

She sat down, growing bored, and massaged her foot. The people walking in did not look like she had expected. Not like dancers, not like actors. She wasn't quite sure how to classify them in her brain.
A cross between? Actors who could dance? Dancers who could act?
Whoever they were, they were wearing very little clothing. One of them, a pretty blonde who Alexandra thought she might have seen at a jazz class once, was wearing what looked like black underwear and a jean corset. Alexandra was glad that Leah had tossed her some clothing to wear; in her shorts and bra she was almost wearing too much for this audition.

A woman with dyed-blond hair walked in, obviously not auditioning — she was fully clothed and looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties. “Hey girls. Thanks for coming out. If you could all just give me your forms and head shots if you have them?”

Alexandra handed her form to the woman. She didn't have a head shot with her. As she watched the pile stack up, she could see that she was probably the only person without one.
Well, I didn't know I was going to audition today. It's not really that important … I hope.

“Okay, just want to give you some background,” the woman said, speaking quickly. “So, what is going to happen is you are the spirits of the trident. The hero who steals the trident is not paying attention, and so you come to him and pull his essence out.”

Sort of like the willis from
Giselle, Alexandra thought to herself.
Taking away his life force.

“So, we're like, you know, sucking the guy's, like, sex drive out of him?” a brunette in the front asked.

Alexandra's eyebrows flew up higher than Charlie Chaplin's.
What? Where the frick did she get that from?

“Exactly,” the blond woman agreed.

Alexandra's face fell.
What the …?

“Now, I want you girls to all to learn a small section of the choreography, you can show it to me in groups, and then I want you to all freestyle it across the floor. Any questions? No? Okay, show me what you got.”

Alexandra started to learn the choreography, which was a form of burlesque dancing. When it was time to perform it, she went in the group with the blond corset-girl. She knew the choreography, it required no technique at all, but as she was dancing it she realized it was supposed to look completely different from the way she was doing it. She watched the blond girl in the mirror, and as she did, she considered just leaving the room. She was clearly not going to get this. She stayed, because it was an audition, and to leave an audition in the middle would be a bigger breach of protocol than she was capable of. Besides, she was curious. She had almost forgotten about her foot, she realized; the painkillers must have kicked in, either that or the audition was too entertaining to let her think about it.

Finally it was time to go across the floor, and Alexandra made sure that she was in a different group from the blond girl, so she could watch her. Alexandra started out trying to do the freestyle seriously, but a quarter of the way across the floor embarrassment kicked in and she did a series of extensions instead. If she wasn't going to get the part, at least she could prove to everyone that she was a far better dancer than they were or were ever going to be.
They all look a lot older than me, though.

“Okay, I think I've got who I want to call back for tomorrow,” the woman said, speaking quickly. She called out about ten names, and Alexandra's wasn't one of them. Alexandra wasn't sure how she felt about that. She didn't want it, but she never enjoyed not being picked. It was a very curious sort of mixed feeling: like when that person who always wants to hang out with you — that you don't want to hang out with — stops calling. You still don't want to hang out with them, but you miss being asked. Alexandra walked into the change room and started getting changed. The blond girl was also going to get changed, although she of course had been one of the ten.

“You looked good out there!” she said sweetly.

“Uh, thanks,” Alexandra said, not entirely sure what to say since she had clearly
not
been good out there. The obvious thing to do was to compliment the other girl, but she wasn't sure how to do that without being rude.
What am I supposed to say? You'd make a really good stripper?
“I didn't quite realize — like, I felt kind of out of place in there.”

“You looked good,” the girl said. “Well, like, a little awkward, but your extensions are fricking
amazing!
”

Alexandra laughed, softening up. The easiest way to make friends with Alexandra was to compliment her extensions: she was very proud of them. “Ballet can do that to you.”

“Ohhh, ballet girl. That explains it.”

“Yeah, at least I didn't come to this audition with a bun in my hair, right?” Alexandra laughed.

The girl looked confused. “Yeah … that would have been … bad. I guess I'll see you around.”

“For sure. Nice meeting you.” Alexandra fled the studio, going down the steps much faster than she had gone up them. She pulled out her cellphone. “Hey, Leah — I'm done.”

“I'm outside.”

Alexandra pushed open the door and entered the real world, or at least downtown Granville Street in the dark. She walked over to Leah's car and got in.

“How was it? How's your foot?”

“Oh my goddddd, Leah! It was like a fricking stripper audition, I swear! We were supposed to be like these spirit things, but then we were like supposed to suck the —” Alexandra made air quotations with her hands “—
sex drive
out of this dude? Like, seriously, wtf?”

“Well, how did you do?” Leah asked calmly.

“Horribly,” Alexandra said gloomily. “Leah, it was the weirdest thing. I have never wanted to be a stripper, but I always thought that, like, you didn't have to be good at it, right? Like, either you were hot, or you weren't. But today there was this girl at the audition, and she was really, really, good. And do you know what? I was actually getting upset because I wouldn't make a good stripper. It was so stupid.”

“So you didn't even try,” Leah said, sounding a bit annoyed.

“Well, I did
try
,” Alexandra said unconvincingly. “Sort of.” She bent down and picked up her foot, pulling it up toward her face so that she could look at it. “Agh. It's starting to hurt again.”

“You should get your mom to take you to the doctor.”

“I will,” Alexandra lied.

“
Actually
, Alexandra. And by the way, next time you come to take class, you should bring that new kid at your school.”

“Who?”

“Julian.”

“I'll see what I can do. Thank you for taking me to the audition and driving me home and stuff, Leah. Sorry I wasn't any good at being a stripper.” Alexandra giggled.

“It's fine, Lexi. Turn on the radio?” Adele was on the air with “Set Fire to the Rain,” and they both began singing along as Leah drove Alexandra home.

Julian Reese

(Dance + School) x No Sleep = Julian wants a day off. And a cookie :D

“Oh!” A shrill scream disrupted Julian's peaceful rendition of the
develope
exercise they were working on. He looked across the
barre
in the direction of the scream, and dropped his leg. George stopped playing. Everyone stared. Keiko had her hands over her mouth and was staring at the ground. Mao was on the floor. Mrs. Castillo hurried over and rolled her over. “You okay, you okay, you okay?”

“
Hai
,” Mao said weakly. “My head …”

Mrs. Castillo looked over to Keiko. “Go tell Gabriel, bring me some juice, some, chocolate, something.” Keiko nodded and ran out of the room.

“What just happened?” Julian asked, leaning across to Jonathon.

“I think she just fainted.”

“Oh.” Julian stared at Mao as she slowly sat up. Gabriel came hurrying back in, holding a basket of strawberries and some yogurt-covered raisins. “These, these are Mrs. Demidovski's,” he said, holding out the bowl to Mao. “Have some. They are very good.” He helped her get up and took her out into the hall.

“Okay, everyone, very exciting, I know, but now let's work,” Mrs. Castillo said firmly. “George, music, please. We start from beginning again.”

During the break, Julian, like almost all of his class, flooded out of the studio and into the waiting room to see if Mao was all right. “Hey, Mao,” Julian said, sitting in the seat beside her and tucking his feet up. “You all right?” As she was his homestay sister, he felt as though he had special rights in the area of inquiring after her health. Everyone else was forced to hover curiously around them.

“I'm fine,” Mao assured him. “Just forget to eat breakfast, and then — bang!”

“Yeah, we heard,” Julian said, giggling despite the seriousness.

“It was funny, wasn't it?” Mao said, smiling.

Gabriel came out of the office and walked toward him. “Mao, can you come here? Mrs. Demidovski wants to talk to you.”

“Uh-oh,” Tristan said as she left. Everyone else went back into the studio now that the entertainment was gone.

“Why?” Julian asked, frowning. “She looks like she's going to be fine.”

“They're probably going to make her go back to Japan.”

“Why?” Julian exclaimed.

“Think about it, Jules,” Tristan said. “They have to. She fainted because she wasn't eating enough and the academy doesn't want to be accused of ignoring eating disorders. Fainting is pretty obvious.”

“But, they won't actually, will they?” Julian asked. “Couldn't they just ask her to eat more?”

Tristan shrugged. “I doubt they will. This is easier. It happened last year, too.”

“Somebody fainted?”

“No, it was a bit different.” Tristan started to giggle. “It was this girl who was staying with Mr. Yu, actually.”

“What happened?”

“Well, I don't know why they made her leave the school. But, anyway, one time me and Kageki were eating this cake we'd bought from Daun's — you know those white cakes that they make, right? With the whipping cream and fruit on top? The ridiculously light and sweet ones?”

“Yeah, they're so gross.”

“Kind of, but they look good. Anyway, we were eating it, and then we left, and I set it on top of the garbage can, like, you know, the kind without a lid, so it was pretty full and then there was this cake box just perched on top, right?”

“Okay …?”

“And then Kageki and me went into the studio right next to it, and were like joking around and stuff, but then we decided to go downstairs for some reason so we came out of the studio. And this girl was there, eating the cake out of the garbage, and then she just drops it back in the can, screams, and goes downstairs. Like, seriously. It was the weirdest thing. So gross.”

“Wait, what?”

“Exactly! And the thing was she had money. And she never ate her lunch or anything; Leon said that she'd just eat like fifteen oranges every day or something. I remember him going on about it because he said that Mr. Yu had been bugging her about it at dinner, he said that she would turn orange.”

“Okay, I don't think that she could turn orange, but that is really weird, and kind of messed up.”

“Yeah.”

“That doesn't mean that they will make Mao go home. She just fainted.”

“In front of everyone. I bet they will.”

“That really sucks.” They heard the sound of a piano playing in the studio, and quickly ran back in.

Julian got changed quickly after class; he had a huge amount of homework to finish. He was just going up the stairs when Alexandra accosted him. “Hey.”

“Hey …?”

“I'm going to go take class at Leah's school tonight. Want to come?”

Julian wavered for approximately three seconds. Homework that would take him all night to finish, or class with Leah?
Definitely class with Leah
. “Just a second, have to go get my shoes and stuff.” He ran back down the stairs and opened his locker, digging around in the mess inside for the stuff that he wanted.

Tristan was at his locker getting changed. “What? Julian, did you do this?”

Julian looked over at the dancing stick-figure in a tutu. “Ah, no. Did you just notice that? Andrew Lui did it while he was visiting.”

“Oh. That is really random. But cool — Andrew Lui drew on my locker!”

“Hey, I'm finally going to take class with Leah at her studio, want to come? I'm going with Alexandra.”

“Uhhhhh … I have so much homework ….”

“Me, too, dude. Just come!”

“Okay,
fiiiiine.
” Tristan grabbed his shoes and shorts back out of his locker, stuffed them in his bag, and followed Julian out the door.

Justin was waiting in the car. “I thought Mom was picking me up?” Alexandra said, her face falling.

“Nice to see you too, sis,” Justin said. “Uh, what's with the entourage?”

“We all wanted to go take Leah's six o' clock class,” Tristan answered for her.

“I thought Mom was going to be driving,” Alexandra repeated. “Can you drive us?”

Justin groaned. “Alexandra, I have an essay do, a lab to finish, and all my homework problems …”

“We can go another night, that's fine,” Tristan said quickly.

“
Please
Justin? It will take you, like, fifteen minutes more,” Alexandra said.

“More like half an hour more. Okay. But I'm not picking you up; you'll have to get Mom or Dad to do that.”

“Kk.” They got in the car, and Justin started to drive toward the east side where Leah's studio was located. He turned the music up loud so that they couldn't talk. They were at the studio in closer to fifteen minutes than thirty, and hopped out fast, Justin unwilling to even park.

“Bye.”

“Bye.” Justin sped away, and Alexandra shook her head. “He got a ticket last week, he's going to be, like, totally broke if he gets another one. Then how's he going to be able to buy all that rum he drinks?”

“How come you don't look like your brother?” Tristan asked, staring after him.

“Less beer and carbs, more X chromosomes. Also, I have a much better haircut. Come
on,
it's almost six!”

The music was already blaring in the big studio when they stepped in. Tristan peered around the corner. Leah was rehearsing her junior competition company, and they were working on a piece set to a Jessie J song. She saw him and flashed him a thumbs-up. He grinned.

“You taking class, kid?” she yelled across the studio.

“Yes, ma'am!” He left the studio door and ran to catch up with Tristan and Alexandra. They got changed quickly and made their way against the tide of ten- to thirteen-year-olds who were pouring out of the studio. Most of the senior company was already there, stretching on the floor. Leah's students didn't have a special academic program like at the academy, so they all had to take class after school.

Leah motioned Julian over to talk to her. “You finally came,” she said.

“Yeah. I said I would!”

“Took you long enough. Now, I wanted to talk to you about something. Alexandra said that you were a choreographer.”

“Sort of. Like, I like to choreograph, but I'm not —”

“Don't be stupid. If you choreograph, you are a choreographer. Repeat after me, I. Am. A. Choreographer.”

“I am a choreographer.”

“Delivery needs work. See that girl over there?” Julian looked in the direction she was pointing, toward a corner full of dancers.

“Uh,there's a lot of girls there.”

“That one. The dark-skinned girl with the red shorts and the white knee socks.” At that moment the girl looked over at them and smiled. She had the whitest teeth he had ever seen, and he shivered. There was something about the combination of tiredness, fluorescent lighting, and toothpaste-commercial white teeth that freaked the hell out of him.

“Yeah, I see her.”

“Listen to me carefully. That girl is really talented. Really. She's older than you, about nineteen now, and she's trying to get a small contemporary company together, doing all the choreography herself.”

“Cool.”

“She can't do all the choreography because she isn't good enough. Her parents have money and they're willing to fund this. They want their little girl to do what she loves. You understand?”

“Um, not really.” Julian stared at her, feeling slightly dizzy, from the lights, the loud music and talking, the bright dance clothing that was completely different from the academy's uniform.

“What I am saying is, go make friends with her. You could really help each other out. Her name is Frida.”

“Okay,” Julian replied.

Leah stood up and walked to the CD player, and Julian melted back into the crowd of students, all just spread out instead of in the ordered lines that ruled classes at the academy. Leah began the class with a warm-up, which Julian did not need thanks to his already full day of classes before this. It was always a bit painful to stretch again after his body had gotten cold for the day. Leah then led them through a series of fast-paced choreography sequences. Julian kept sneaking glances at Frida, trying to get some clue as to how good she would be at choreography, or at dance in general, but to him, she just looked average. Alexandra was a million times better than her, at everything. She was stronger than Alexandra, at some steps that did not combine flexibility and strength, but that was not very important.

Leah gave them a water break, and Julian sipped slowly, trying not to choke. He found it difficult to drink after he had been dancing; his throat seemed to close up. At the front of the room, Leah looked at him pointedly. Julian gulped. He walked over to the girl, feeling suddenly quite young, and stood beside her, trying to look casual as he considered what he should say. In the end, he didn't have to say anything.

“Hey, I'm Frida,” she said, holding out her hand. They awkwardly half-shook, half-clasped hands. “You haven't come to take Leah's class before, have you?”

“No,” Julian admitted. “I haven't. I took her class at Harbour, though. And my friends over there have been here a lot.” He pointed to Alexandra and Tristan, who were sitting on the floor and kept looking at him.

“Oh … are you from the academy, then?”

“Yes.”

“Well, good luck. Nobody here really likes the academy.”

“Why?” Julian protested.

Frida shrugged, putting the cap back on her water bottle. “A lot of things … an inferiority complex, the fact that we think everyone at the academy is stuck on themselves and anorexic, the fact that Leah always gives lectures on how the academy can make you hate dancing, kill the joy of it for you.”

“That's not true,” Julian said, quick to leap to the defence of his school.

Frida shrugged. “I've never been there, so …”

Julian decided to be blunt. It seemed the easiest, and he was tired. “Leah told me to talk to you. She was telling me about how you wanted to start your own contemporary company.”

Frida's face lit up, and she showed her dimples along with more perfectly white teeth. Julian wondered if her parents were both dentists. “I know who you are now! You're that boy from the Island. Leah was telling me about you, because I've been trying to figure out who I want on board with me, in this company, I mean, of course, and it's all sort of been turning into a nightmare.”

“Well, of course,” Julian said, laughing. “It's the arts. Anything in the arts that's worth doing is going to be a nightmare. If it's smooth, you know you're not making art.”

Frida stared at him. “How old are you? I'm sorry, I don't know your name.”

“Julian Reese. I'm sixteen.”

“Frida Levesque. I'm nineteen. You seem very mature for your age.”

“That's because I'm tired. It makes me calm and I start to act normal. You just don't want to meet me when I'm awake.”

“Oh. I see.”

Leah clapped her hands. “Hey! Everyone. Teatime's over. We're going to do improv tonight, okay? Get into pairs.” Julian looked over at Alexandra and Tristan, but they were already standing next to each other.

“Want to go with me?” Frida asked, smiling. She was the sort of person that nobody ever said no to, and although that kind of confidence was annoying on most people, it suited her.

“Sure,” Julian agreed, relieved that he didn't have to search around for a partner. Leah turned on the music, a sort of folk-instrumental sound, and they began. Leah's philosophy toward improv was to keep in contact, and that is what Julian and Frida did, starting with hands and moving onward.
From the outside
, Julian couldn't help thinking,
this would look incredibly awkward.
But, it just wasn't. It was normal. It fit Julian's theory that the human body was whatever you wanted it to be. It was like how the naked body could be pornographic, art, or just another nude person at Wreck Beach. The same body could mean a completely different thing in each context. So, they danced. Frida was different to dance with than Alexandra had been during Leah's class in Spring Break. Where Alexandra would just move away to do something by herself if she didn't like where Julian was taking their movement, Frida would force him to go in the direction she wanted. She was just stronger. The power balance was different. It took Julian a bit to get used to, but after about a minute he had adjusted, and their movements became very in tune.