I Forgot to Tell You (13 page)

Mr. Yu held up his hand, walking over to her. “Okay?” he asked tersely. “Foot okay?”

Alexandra shook her head, swallowing back tears. “No.”

“Okay for show?”

“Yes. I just need to go ice it, take some Tylenol.”

“Okay.” Mr. Yu walked back to Mr. Demidovski and they conferred for a moment. “Okay. Finish,” Mr. Yu said, waving. “
Corps
come, run through now.” Alexandra and Julian walked off stage, and Alexandra sat down on one of the audience seats, rubbing her foot angrily as if she could bully it into not hurting.

“I'll go get you some ice,” Julian said, watching her nervously.

Taylor was dancing the Villagers' waltz when she felt a firm hand push her out of the dance. In the large
corps
, Mr. Yu, of course, did not notice what happened; instead, he just saw Taylor falling out of formation. “Taylor! No mistake!”

Taylor burned with the indignity of it all. She had not made a mistake; stupid Jessica had pushed her. She waited for a second and then rejoined the dance. All went well for a few moments, and then it happened again. “

“Taylor! One more time, I kick you outta the dance.” They finished the dance and ran offstage.

Taylor stepped in front of Jessica, brave for once. “You pushed me,” she said loudly. Around them, people stopped to watch.

“What are you talking about?” Jessica brushed her off, starting to walk away.

“You pushed me!” Taylor said, getting angry. “In the middle of the dance! And then
I
got in trouble for it.”

“You're crazy,” Jessica said flatly. She walked backstage, and Taylor was left with two options: to follow her, and actually look crazy; or to drop it. Taylor dropped it, but it burned.

The matinee had started, and Kaitlyn was sitting backstage watching Grace dance Swanhilda, when she realized something that she maybe should have fully realized sooner. She had never been part of a
corps
before. She had never had to work on a team or take more than a superficial interest in what the other dancers around her were doing. She had never even worn a costume as ill-fitting as the one she currently had on and have it genuinely not matter because the audience would not be focusing on her. She had told her mother this, and logically she had known it, but emotionally it had not hit her. The strange thing was it felt different, but not worse. There were positive sides to each experience. There were less people watching her, she had a less prestigious part, but she also felt strangely relaxed. There was less pressure. And she could enjoy watching the parts of the ballet that she was not in, where if she had been dancing Swanhilda she couldn't have. Kaitlyn suddenly shook her head.
Don't try and fool yourself, Kaitlyn. This sucks, and you really, really wish you could be out there dancing Swanhilda right now.
Kaitlyn watched Grace
port de bras
backwards with about half the depth that she could have done it with.

Alexandra waited in the wings as the music began to play for the evening performance. “Da da, dadada, dadada, dada,” she hummed to herself. Across the stage she could see the house that Mr. Yu had worked so hard on, painted in grey and brown. At the top of the house was an open window, and Keiko sat there, staring outside blankly. She was playing a life-size doll made by the eccentric toymaker, Doctor Coppélius. The beautiful doll was named Coppelia, and she sat there reading a book.

It was time. Alexandra ran out, dancing a light and happy variation. She played Swanhilda, the doll's neighbour. Through her dance she tried to make friends with the doll, not realizing that Coppelia was not alive. At the end, realizing that Coppelia was still ignoring her, Alexandra's Swanhilda ran off, sulking. But not far; Alexandra ran into her house, across from Coppelia, where she had an excellent view of her fiancé, Frantz, trying to flirt with Coppelia. The doll was as unresponsive to him as she was to Swanhilda, and Frantz left. Swanhilda was left filled with jealousy and curiosity.

Alexandra loved this ballet. Frantz and Swanhilda were both irresponsible brats, the spoiled darlings of their village. It was a fun contrast to the tragedy and drama of
Giselle
, or
Swan Lake
, or
La Bayadère
, even. It was during Act II that it happened. Alexandra had watched Julian's Frantz be drugged by Delilah's Doctor Coppélius. Doctor Coppélius wanted to take the life force out of Frantz and put it inside his doll. Unfortunately, Swanhilda was currently dressed as Coppelia, and she was forced by the circumstances to come alive and dance like a puppet led by Doctor Coppélius. Alexandra was doing an
echappe
, when she felt her arch go over too far, and that was when she knew that something was wrong. It was during an awkward
pas de deux
of sorts that her foot gave out. She was supposed to be guided by Doctor Coppélius, and, while Delilah held her, the choreography dictated that she was to half-fall, held by Delilah, as if she was knocked off balance by Doctor Coppélius, or was simply refusing to dance with him. Alexandra fell, but she slipped, and when Delilah caught her, Alexandra's foot twisted at an angle that it simply couldn't handle. Alexandra's face went white under her foundation, but Delilah did not notice that anything was wrong. Delilah continued to play her part of the eccentric old man, walking off. Alexandra was supposed to walk like a doll to the corner and then begin a
diagonale
of
chaine
turns.

She walked over, but as she stood in the corner, she was not sure that she was going to be able to do it. She stretched out her right foot in front of her, preparing.
And one …

Taylor was hanging out beside Mr. Yu, watching Alexandra dance and swinging her legs as she sat on one of the prop tables. She didn't have to dance for a bit. Mr. Yu stood beside her, intermittently barking out commands to the tech crew. Taylor was not supposed to be sitting on that table, but Mr. Yu was ignoring it for now. He suddenly stepped forward, staring at the stage. “Alexandra,” he said. “Not okay.”

“What?” Taylor said, even though he had been talking to himself.

Mr. Yu looked at her. “When Alexandra come off, you go on. Okay?”

Taylor nodded, her stomach suddenly spinning.

“Mao!” Mr. Yu said, calling her over. “Take out hairpiece; be ready to help her change.” Mao nodded, starting to quickly take the fake flowers out of Taylor's hair, trying not to wreck her bun.

Mr. Yu stood in the wings as Alexandra started to
chaine
toward them. She was supposed to stop and then go back to dancing with Doctor Coppélius, a dance that was supposed to trick him into thinking that he had lost control over his lovely Coppelia doll. Instead, Mr. Yu motioned for Alexandra to keep
chaine-
ing until she was offstage. She didn't look surprised, and the second she was hidden behind the wings she limped off and sat on the floor, taking off her shoe. She wasn't the important one right now, though. On stage, a startled Delilah had broken into an improvised comedy routine, acting surprised and shocked about the loss of her doll. Delilah was waving her beard and hands about for all she was worth, but it would only buy them a few seconds. Mr. Yu helped Mao pin Alexandra's headpiece in her hair and do up the hooks on her new costume, and then Taylor ran back on stage.
“Ganbate!”
Mao called in a whisper after her. On the floor, Alexandra had started to cry. Her foot was red and swollen, and the combination of the pain and disappointment over having to leave the stage was more than she could handle.

Julian had been onstage this whole time, but he was supposed to be drugged, passed out on Doctor Coppélius's thick wooden kitchen table. In the interests of curiosity (and not forgetting to wake up!) he had kept his eyes open. Still, it was disorienting to be only able to look in one direction, and have one Swanhilda
chaine
past you, and then a few seconds later have different one pass by.
Taylor? What the?
He watched her dance a solo as Doctor Coppélius watched, marvelling at his creation. She finished, and now it was time for Frantz to slowly wake up. Taylor began to hurry around Doctor Coppélius's house, ripping up his spell book, starting up his other mechanical dolls, and generally being a nuisance. Julian firmly pushed down all thoughts of what could have happened to Alexandra, and focused on what he was going to dance next. He needed to; his memory of the steps was shaky at best.

As they took a bow, Julian felt like flying. He looked down at Taylor; her expression reflected how he felt. They had done it! They had danced their very first principal roles, and they'd been okay. Maybe not brilliant; maybe they had made some mistakes, and perhaps Julian might've slightly re-choreographed bits that he had forgotten; but it was over and they had done it. To Julian, it felt like the first time he had jumped off the high diving board at the public pool. He'd done it once, and nothing bad had happened, so he had decided that next time he would do a flip. The audience was cheering with awesome volume.
I guess they've heard about our Unfortunate Events,
Julian thought, as he grinned and bowed for the third time.
Not every school has to use both their understudies for the same show, or, not even an understudy at all.
The curtain began to close, and as it did they all began to scream, jumping up and down and hugging each other.

A few minutes later the curtain opened again, and Mr. Demidovski was standing in front of the microphone. To his right stood a lineup of the academy's teachers and staff: Mrs. Demidovski, dressed in black dress pants and a red shirt; Mr. Moretti, looking sullen; Mrs. Mallard, who had her “Queen of England” smile on and was beaming at everyone; Mrs. Castillo, who looked little and was clutching a bouquet of flowers with a serious expression on her face. Leah towered over everyone and was wearing a sparkly low-cut black tank top that didn't quite fit. Gabriel was there, wearing the same suit he wore to work every day, and Sequoia stood next to him in a sack-shaped baby-blue dress that made her look more washed-out than usual. Only Mr. Yu was missing.

“Where is Mr. Yu?” Mr. Demidovski demanded. Mr. Yu leapt out of the wings and took a place between Mrs. Mallard and Mrs. Castillo. He put his arms around their shoulders, grinning. They looked remarkably resigned to it for two dignified old ladies.

Mr. Demidovski began to talk, of the accomplishments of the school, of the awards won during the year, of how grateful he was for parental involvement … Julian tuned out, bored. Finally Mr. Demidovski started to get to the interesting stuff. “Mr. Moretti will be leaving us,” he said. “We are very glad he is going, sorry, excuse, we are sad that he is going, but glad that he is going to …” Mr. Demidovski trailed off, as he realized too late that he had no idea what Mr. Moretti was going off to do. “We wish him the very best in his future endeavours. And, we would like to give out some scholarships. The students, the students working very hard this year, we want to reward, also reward the parents who give so much of money, of sweat.” Mr. Demidovski nodded to Gabriel, who began to call out some names for small bursaries.

“Taylor … Julian … Chloe … Kaitlyn …” Mr. Demidovski read out the names from the stack of envelopes in his hands while handing them out. “Michael … Tristan …” After the first round of bursaries was distributed, Mr. Demidovski stepped back to the microphone. “We have also decided to start awarding new scholarship. Mrs. Castillo, please here.”

Mrs. Castillo stepped up to the mike. “This scholarship, it is in memory of my daughter,” she said.

“Speak up, Mrs. Castillo,” Mr. Demidovski demanded.

“My daughter, Aurora Castillo, she loved dance very much ever since she was a little girl. She was very beautiful, very slim, very sweet. Is Alexandra here?” Mrs. Castillo looked around.

“Alexandra?” Mr. Demidovski echoed, taking the mike away from Mrs. Castillo. Gabriel whispered in Mr. Demidovski's ear. “Ah. She had to go to hospital — they think foot might be broken. Can anyone take and give to Alexandra?”

There was a moment's pause, and then Julian realized that no one was jumping to volunteer. “I'll do it,” he offered. He walked up and took the envelope.

Mrs. Castillo reached up and hugged him, as if it had been him who was getting the scholarship, not Alexandra. Her wiry strong hands made Julian bend over so that she could whisper in his ear. “Tell Alexandra,” Mrs. Castillo said through the sound of clapping, “that she was very good. Tell her that she was very beautiful, and I am very glad.”

Julian nodded. “Okay.”

“Good boy.”

Taylor got changed quickly and met her mom, her dad, Vivienne, and Alison in the lobby. “Taylor, sweetheart, you looked like a princess out there!” Charlize exclaimed, hugging her. “I couldn't believe it when I saw you came on — I'm so glad —” Charlize quickly covered her mouth, realizing what she had been about to say in the very crowded theatre lobby. “It's very sad what happened to Lexi. But you were so good! Why was Julian dancing? I didn't know he was the understudy.”

“It's a really long story, Mom,” Taylor said, laughing. She turned to her dad.

“You were really good, princess,” he said, smiling. “You looked just like a doll. Good thing you don't look like this one here, huh?” he laughed, pinching Alison's cheek affectionately. Alison brushed his hand away, scowling.

Taylor frowned at her dad's comment to Alison before asking slowly, “You liked it?”

“Yes! Well, I think you should have been cast before that other girl, if you ask me. You are twice as pretty as she is.”

“Daddy. It's not about who looks best, it's about who's the best dancer.”

“I know that,” Steven said impatiently. They were walking out of the theatre, and he pushed open the door, leading them outside. “How about we go get something to eat, huh? And Taylor, have you thought any more about moving out to L.A., trying to focus on acting? We could try to get you some modelling work, too, Vivienne has
great
contacts.” He hugged his Vivienne, who appeared to be mute.