I Forgot to Tell You (4 page)

“What's it supposed to be on?” Kaitlyn asked, sitting next to her.

“Whether I believe that changes in environmental policy originate with the public or institutions,” Jessica moaned, burying her face in her hands. “This is so stupid.”

“I thought you guys were working on
Macbeth
?” Kaitlyn asked, confused. “That's what Alexandra was working on.”

“I failed the
Macbeth
test because I didn't read the stupid book because I was too busy with competition,” Jessica complained. “So, now I have to do this stupid essay.”

Angela was calmly going through her math work, working through the answers at a methodical pace. Kaitlyn looked over her shoulder. “Ew.”

“What?”

“Grade eleven math looks gross.”

“It's fine,” Angela said calmly. “You just have to be confident in the basics.”

Kaitlyn shuddered. She didn't have basics in math, she had sheer panic, and worry that hit her ten seconds before she had to complete a quiz as opposed to the night before.

Mr. Moretti walked in, and everyone was suddenly quiet, turning to look at him. Tristan hopped out of Jonathon's arms.

Mr. Moretti looked around to make sure that everyone was paying attention. “Okay,” he said, “I will be rehearsing Friends, and then I will be rehearsing the village corps, first act, and then I will be rehearsing with Leon, Tristan, Kageki, and Julian. The rest of you may go.”

Grace got up to leave with Aiko, but Mr. Moretti put up his hand to stop her. “Aiko, you may go,” he said. “Grace, I want you to stay and learn this.” Grace went back to the side, putting her bag down again. Mr. Moretti, paused, considering. “Grace, you learn Alexandra's role,” he decided.

After rehearsal, Kaitlyn ran to get changed out of her sweaty dance clothes and undo her hair. “Ugh, my hair looks gross,” she said despairingly, looking in the mirror. The sweat and gel had turned into a clumpy mess.

“We can fix it at my house, don't worry,” Taylor said, laughing. “Come on.” Kaitlyn started doing up her boots. “Oh, and one thing,” Taylor said, looking around as her voice dropped, “my mom doesn't know that this is a party. She's still mad about me dropping out of school, so I said that we're going over to your friend's to do homework. That way she'll believe that it isn't a party.”

“Wait, so she'll assume that it isn't a party if it's
my
friend's house?” Kaitlyn protested.

“Yes,” Taylor said firmly. “Hurry!”

Charlize was already waiting at the side of the academy. Taylor and Kaitlyn quickly climbed in. “You girls are fast today,” she commented, looking through the rear window to make sure she didn't squash any small pink-tutu-clad toddlers.

“Mmm,” Taylor said, “Mom, what's for dinner?”

“I don't know,” Charlize said, considering. “I suppose we could pick up pizza.”

“Yeah! I want pizza. Can you get me the kind that's just got cheese on it, nothing else?”

“Sure,” Charlize said, heading out of Vancouver toward the North Shore. “What kind do you want, Kaitlyn?”

Kaitlyn considered. She hadn't had pizza in a while. This was a weighty decision. “Um, can I get the Hawaiian?”

“Sure, that's what I like, too,” Charlize agreed. They drove on, the lights starting to flicker on in the fading light.

Inside Taylor's house, Taylor practically pushed Kaitlyn up the stairs and into her room, leaving Charlize to go phone for pizza. She put her bag on her bed and began digging through her closet. Kaitlyn sat gingerly down on the pink bed. It was very squishy.

“How about this?” Taylor asked, reappearing with a tank top. It was white with black lace on the edges, and three small buttons down the front.

“That's so pretty!” Kaitlyn said, jumping up and holding it up to her in front of the mirror.

“Try it on,” Taylor suggested.

Kaitlyn pulled it on, and looked again.
Oh.
“It's sort of too low.”

“It looks fine to me, but whatever, I'll look for something else.”

Taylor came out with an off-the-shoulder baby-blue top. “Here.”

Kaitlyn pulled it on. It was a little small, especially in the arm holes, but it would do. “Yeah. I like this.”

“Okay.” Taylor kept digging until she found a deep purple off-the-shoulder top with rhinestone buttons on the front for herself, and changed her jeans. “Too bad I don't have any jeans you would fit into,” she said, sighing. “Oh well.”

Kaitlyn pretended she didn't hear that last comment.

Taylor began to do her hair and makeup, and Kaitlyn gingerly added a bit of eyeshadow and mascara. She knew how to do stage makeup, but everyday makeup was beyond her.

“Now, put this hoodie on over top,” Taylor ordered. Kaitlyn obeyed, zipping it up just in time to hear Charlize say: “Girls! The pizza's here!”

Zack's house was lit up in the dark, and Kaitlyn and Taylor couldn't stop giggling as they walked up to it from the bus stop. “Oh, Kaitlyn, how come we never really hang out?” Taylor asked, wrapping her arm around Kaitlyn's waist. “This is so much fun!”

They walked into the light, and Kaitlyn was surprised to see a woman she assumed was Zack's mother opening the door. There were parents who condoned underage drinking?

“Come in, girls, don't you look pretty,” she gushed. “All the kids are in the basement, so if you want to go downstairs …” Kaitlyn realized that there were two parties going on, one upstairs with adults and their party below. She and Taylor took off their shoes and headed down.

Downstairs there was a pool table, a couch, and a lot of people. Kaitlyn didn't recognize anyone. “Is anyone here from McKinley?” she whispered to Taylor.

“A few people,” Taylor whispered back. “Zack's friends with all the other tech-club kids who work backstage. I met a few of them when I danced at the assembly before the break, but I only really know Zack. He should have gone to King William's, the school I was supposed to go to, but he didn't want to go to the same school as his brother. So I guess all these other people are his old friends who go to King William's.”

“How do you know Zack?” Kaitlyn asked. But Taylor was already walking in. She hooked her arm around Kaitlyn's, leading her in a weaving path toward the kitchen. She pulled two coolers out of her bag and handed one to Kaitlyn. “You owe me,” she said, giggling.

“How did you even get these?” Kaitlyn whispered back.

“My mom always keeps a bunch in the fridge and she doesn't care when I take them. She says that it's better than me getting roofied.”

“Your mom is so weird,” Kaitlyn said, laughing. “Like seriously.”

“No, it makes sense.” Taylor opened her bottle and somehow managed to spill a bunch over her jeans. “Oh geez, now it looks like I peed myself,” she giggled. “Come on; let's go say hi to Zack.”

“Okay.” Kaitlyn followed her, sipping slowly on her drink. It tasted a bit sweet, like juice. It made her feel warm, and nice, and sort of happy. She liked this party; everyone was smiling.

“Hey, Zack,” Taylor said, walking up to a small boy sitting on the corner of a table, talking loudly to a small group of people who looked several years older than him. They looked very entertained. He turned around when he heard Taylor, and Kaitlyn recognized him. He had been in her math class once, and had never shut up, except when he was absent, which he had been for a third of last semester. Second semester he hadn't shown up at all; the rumour was that he'd had to finish the course online because he was failing. “You do acting, right? You played that possessed kid on
Superbly Unnatural.
” Her head felt heavier than normal.

He nodded, grinning. His hair was blond and just covered his ears, and he had a cheerful face. He was holding a can of beer and looked ridiculously pleased with himself, but he was so small that he could have passed for twelve, not fifteen. He was wearing a pale blue dress shirt, and it hung off of him. “The ballerinas,” he said, a bit too cheerily. “So you made it!” He was only looking at Taylor, and she sat down on the arm of the couch that he was sitting on. Kaitlyn stood by awkwardly.

“Yeah,” Taylor said, looking around. “I, like, know almost no one here. What's up with that?”

“You guys and Matt and some of the tech-club kids over there are the only people my age,” he admitted. “Everyone else is in my brother's grade. He goes to King Will's.”

“Yeah.”

“I like your hair.” Zack kept tapping his foot, and Kaitlyn couldn't stop herself from watching it.

“Thanks,” Taylor said, smiling and tossing her hair. “Your house is pretty sweet.”

“I know, right?” Zack gulped some of his beer. Beside Zack was a tall gangly boy with red hair, and Kaitlyn giggled as she saw him roll his eyes.

“You want me to show you around the house and stuff?” Zack asked. He sounded weirdly stiff.

Taylor giggled again. “Totally. You should show me that robot you made.” They headed off, Zack casually putting his hand on Taylor's back as they walked.

“So.” The red-headed boy nodded at Kaitlyn. “I like how they bothered to say ‘bye' to us.”

Kaitlyn nodded, smiling awkwardly. “I'm Kaitlyn.” She stuck out her hand for him to shake, and they both started giggling at the weird formality of it.

“Matt. I go to McKinley, too — I'm in the tech club. Like, when the lights go on and stuff, that's me.”

“Sweet.”

“You're friends with Taylor?” he asked, sitting down on the couch next to her.

“Yeah.”

“So, did Taylor tell you anything about me?”

Kaitlyn noticed that Matt was also searching the room with his eyes, presumably also looking for Taylor and Zack. “No,” Kaitlyn answered. She swallowed more of her drink. She felt oddly comfortable in this strange house surrounded by people she didn't know who were mostly a lot older than her.

“Oh. Okay. Yeah, she's been around our booth a lot lately. Zack's been showing her the mikes and crap.”

“Cool.” Kaitlyn couldn't think of anything else to say, but she didn't really care. She felt weirdly comfortable on this couch.

“You want to go somewhere quieter?”

Kaitlyn considered. Now that she thought about it, the dubstep was getting on her nerves. “Sure.”

“I know where we can go play some games,” he said, standing up and picking up his beer. “Come on.”

Kaitlyn followed him out of the living room and into somebody's bedroom. Matt handed her a control and showed her the basics of how to play the game, and Kaitlyn tried to look like she cared. She never played video games. The colours were so bright that they forced her eyes to focus in on them. She was trying to round the corner on a yellow path when she felt Matt's fingers on her thigh. She pretended to ignore it. He took the controller away from her and pressed his mouth on hers. It was wet, and smelled of beer and mint. She felt his tongue press against her lips, and she quickly pushed him away. “Um …”

Matt shrugged. “I thought you wanted to.”

“Uh … no. Sorry.” Kaitlyn quickly brushed her hair out of her face, trying to stop the blush that she knew was spreading across her face.

“Like, we don't have to do anything … I mean, I just think you're pretty hot.”

“Um, thanks.” Kaitlyn picked up the controller. “You want to finish the game?”

Matt sighed. “Not really. But okay.” They stayed there for the rest of the party, barely talking to each other and focusing on the game until Taylor finally came and found her.

“Were you guys doing this all night?” she asked, leaning against Zack. “Come on, Kaitlyn, we have to hurry up. Zack's mom is going to give us a ride home.” She jumped onto the bed and blew into Kaitlyn's face. “Do I smell like I've been drinking?”

“Ew, no, you smell of really gross mint stuff.”

“Good.” Taylor hopped off the bed and Kaitlyn followed her, picking up her hoodie. They got in the car, Zack and Taylor giggling at nothing. Kaitlyn sat silently on the side, feeling awkward. She felt like she should finish the other half of her cooler, but she also thought it would look weird since they were going home now, so she casually stuffed it in one of the car cup holders and left it there. She felt strangely exhilarated. There were a lot of things to think about.
Somebody kissed me.
She smiled involuntarily. It wasn't how she'd pictured her first kiss, and she didn't exactly think that Matt was at all hot, but it was still pretty cool.

“Did you guys have fun?” Zack's mom asked too loudly as she headed up the hill to Taylor's house. It suddenly occurred to Kaitlyn that Zack's mom had probably been drinking, and her hands clutched onto the sides of her seat, worried. Her mom had told her a thousand times to never accept a ride from someone who was drunk, but what was she supposed to do if she was already in the car? And what was safer, being driven home by an adult who had been drinking, or bussing home at this time of the night?

Soon they were home, and Kaitlyn and Taylor climbed tiredly out of the car, Taylor still giggling. “Did you have fun?” Taylor asked as they walked the last few houses to Taylor's house.

“Was she drunk?” Kaitlyn asked, still surprised.

“Zack's mom? No, of course not, she was just a bit buzzed. Geez, don't worry so much, Kaitlyn.”

Taylor seemed strangely annoyed with her, so Kaitlyn dropped it, filing the incident in her head as something that she really didn't need to tell her mother about. Taylor pushed open her front door, and they walked in, to the safe smell of Febreze, not alcohol.

Taylor Audley

No I do not want to add u, wierd dude who I have never met before. Stop sending me mesagas it maks u look crazy

After they had dropped Kaitlyn off at McKinley, Charlize drove herself and Taylor away from downtown, to a section of the city Taylor was unfamiliar with; residential and well-gardened. “Where are you going?” Taylor asked, confused. She looked at the car clock; she had to be at class in an hour and a half. Ever since she had started taking class with the Youth Company as well as normal class, she started dance at nine.

“I just thought we could go for a drive,” Charlize said in her brightest, most fake, this-doesn't-mean-anything voice.

Taylor groaned. “Mom, what? Seriously, what the frick?”

“Don't you
dare
swear in front of me.”

“Sorry.”

Charlize turned off the radio. “Taylor, have you considered what you are going to do if you don't become a dancer?”

“Of course,” Taylor said automatically.

“Well, what do you think you want to do?”

“I don't know.”

Charlize sighed. Taylor began to feel uncomfortable. This was going to be one of those days where she was lectured no matter what she said. “Mom, it's okay, I have time. I can always go back to school; Mr. Briggs said that I could, remember? I just need some time off for now. Or I could act, or be a model. There's lots of things I think I'd be good at.”

Charlize turned the car around, breaking several traffic laws as she did so, and began to head back downtown toward the academy. “Taylor, I just don't want you to get stuck. I want you to have options in your life, a backup plan.”

“Well, what do you think I should do?” Taylor asked reasonably. “Besides go back to school,” she added quickly.

Charlize was clearly prepared for this question. “I think your idea about trying acting and modelling is a very good one. You should start exploring your options. Taylor, you're a beautiful girl, I don't want you to limit yourself to dance.”

“Okay.” Taylor shrugged. “Like — what do you want me to do?”

“I booked you some time with a photographer. I want to get you some head shots, and then we'll see where it goes from there. Talk to some agents, see what our options are.”

“Okay. Wait, but it won't interfere with dance, right? Like, I won't have to miss any dance for this? I'm really getting a lot better, Mom; Mrs. Demidovski even said that I was the other day.”

“Of course,” Charlize agreed. “I wouldn't force you to give up dance, not ever.”

“Good.” Taylor settled back into her seat, relieved.

“But if you did get an audition, I would expect you to go to that instead of class,” Charlize added.

Taylor looked over at her mother, opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again.
At least she's not still going on and on about how I should go back to school — I'll just fight with her about missing class if it comes up.

Charlize pulled up beside the academy, and Taylor hopped out. “Have a good day.”

“I will.” Taylor slammed the car door behind her and ran up the steps to the studio.

Someone called out, “Hey!” Taylor stopped and turned around, recognizing the voice but too surprised to hear it to be certain.

Behind her was Andrew Lui, a huge grin lighting up his face.

“Omigod, cool, you're here?” Taylor squeaked.

“Yeah.” Andrew looked around the studio hallway and expelled a large breath. “Whew. What a trip, eh? This place looks exactly the same as it did when I left!” He looked back at her. “You don't, though! Did I say you could grow up?” He frowned at her, his eyes twinkling as he tried to keep a straight face, his hands on his hips. “You're supposed to be only this high.” He held his hand out to the level of his hips.

Taylor giggled. “This is so cool that you're back, everyone is going to be so excited! How long are you going to stay? Are you going to take class?”

Andrew nodded. “Yeah, gonna take class for — um, about a week? Got some time off, thought that I would visit the family, and of course my dance family!” They started to walk down to the change rooms together, and Taylor realized that she was almost as tall as him now. It felt so cool to walk with someone whose picture was actually hanging up on the walls of the studio in multiple places, accompanied by descriptions of his various awards and recognitions. There was no question about it, Andrew Lui was one of Vancouver International Ballet Academy's most successful grads, and he knew it. He walked down the hall with a slight swagger, a grin on his face as he watched out for anyone else that he recognized. He paused in the middle of the hallway as a thought occurred to him. “Hey, how old are you now, kid?”

“Fifteen,” Taylor giggled.

“Shouldn't you be at school? Or are you giving McKinley the ditch for the day?”

Taylor scrunched up her face, unsure as to how Andrew would react. “Actually, I sort of dropped out so I could take morning class and focus even more on dance.”

Andrew tilted his head on one side as he considered. “Hm. The academy's changing; they never suggested that I should do that.”

Taylor didn't bother correcting his assumption about who had suggested she drop out of school. She didn't want to tell Andrew that she had been failing all her courses. Instead she waited for his verdict on her decision.

“Well, good on you, kid,” he said finally, and Taylor let out her breath. “Way to just go for it, no safety belts. How is McKinley, anyway? Come on, let me know all the gossip!”

Taylor followed him down the steps and into the boy's change room. She sat on the bench and swung her legs as she thought of what to tell him. “Mrs. Flowers is either lesbian or dating Mr. Fu, who's married — no one can decide which it is. Tristan asked Julian out, basically, and Julian just ignored him. Kaitlyn Wardle, that girl who used to always win stuff at competition? She's going here now. Her mom's fat.”

Andrew laughed as he changed his shirt. “Okay, I really doubt that Mr. Fu and Mrs. Flowers are having an affair, they probably are just laughing their heads off in the staff room about you guys. Who is Julian? And yeah, I had a run-in with Kaitlyn Wardle's mother a few years ago, she kept trying to buddy up to me
—
I didn't like her at all. Kaitlyn was a good dancer, though. Is she still?”

Taylor shrugged. “Sort of. Like, her technique is good, but she never has any expression, and she doesn't have that great a body. Julian came to the academy this year; he's one year older than me, and from the Island, and he's really cute.” Taylor covered her mouth automatically and turned around, checking to make sure that there was still only her and Andrew in the change room.

Andrew laughed. “Somebody got a little crush?” he teased.

“No!” Taylor said, blushing. “Oh! And I almost forgot! Me and Julian have been paired together a lot this year, and then for Spring Seminar, guess who was teaching?”

Andrew shrugged.

“Theresa Bachman. She really, really likes Julian, so she's been giving us privates ever since.”

Andrew frowned. “Turn around,” he ordered, “I have to change my pants.”

Taylor obediently closed her eyes and turned to face the wall.

“There, done — okay, what? You and this Julian dude are having privates with Theresa Bachman?
The
Theresa Bachman?”

Taylor nodded, unable to contain her grin. “Yup.”

“Children nowadays!” Andrew said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Why, when I was your age I counted myself lucky if Mr. Demidovski even looked at me! And here you are, having privates with Theresa Bachman. What is the world coming to?”

Taylor giggled. “We all watched that YouTube clip of you doing Golden Idol,” she told him. “We got in trouble, because we were watching it on my laptop and we were supposed to be doing Social Studies stuff.”

“Who's ‘we'?”

“Me, and Kaitlyn, in class.”

“Did you like it? Was I good?”

“Yes, of course! You were so awesome, and your jumps were so high, and Kaitlyn thought you were really cool.”

“Thanks.” Andrew grabbed his soft shoes out of his bag and swung the bag up on top of the lockers. He hit one in the middle that was covered in writing. “Who's got my old locker?”

Taylor hopped off the bench and went over to look. “I think that's Tristan's. Yeah, it is.”

Andrew looked at it. “Got a Sharpie?”

Taylor thought. “No, but there's always one here —” she stood on the bench and felt around the top of Tristan's locker. “Here,” she said proudly, hopping down and giving it to Andrew.

“Thanks.” Andrew took off the cap of the marker and looked for the clearest space left on the locker. There was a small oval patch near the handle, so he began to draw a dancing figure, with stick arms and legs and a frilly tutu.

“Don't take up drawing.”

Andrew put the cap back on the Sharpie and threw it up on top of the old lockers. “I'm gonna go and warm up — I guess you're in my class then, huh?”

Taylor nodded.

“Hmm.” Andrew didn't look very thrilled with this. “See ya up there then.” He went out, making an exceptional amount of noise on the stairs for such a graceful dancer. Taylor went to get changed and do her bun as the rest of the people in the Youth Company trickled in to get ready.

“Hey Aiko,” Taylor said, smiling as she looked up at her. Aiko was the best dancer in the Youth Company according to popular opinion, including the Demidovskis', but she was also the nicest in Taylor's opinion.

“Hi, Taylor-
chan.
I like your bun, it is very
kawaii
today. Let me see?” Aiko stood up on her
demi-pointe
to look at the top of Taylor's bun. Taylor had twisted three coils of her hair separate from the rest of her bun and used them to create a pattern on the top before winding them around and tucking them under to join the rest of her hair. “Very nice! Maybe someday you do in my hair?”

“Yes.” Taylor beamed. “Anytime you want, I'll do it for you, Aiko.”

“Thank you, Taylor, you're so sweet.” Aiko walked away to get changed, and Taylor hurried up. Aiko always had a spot at
barre
because people saved it for her, but she'd better hurry if she wanted a space with some leg room.

The studio was already full, but strangely quiet, different from the afternoon classes. Those that were talking were doing it in hushed voices, and the majority of the students were just quietly stretching, listening to their iPods. Taylor did the same, listening to Mat Kearney's cover of “Dancing in the Dark” as she began to stretch her legs. What was there about the morning that made everything seem so much less real? There wasn't enough light in the studio yet, so someone had turned the side lights on, but not the big overhead ones that they used for night rehearsals. Everything was soft and sleepy, and as Taylor stretched, she could feel her body wake up for the day. It felt so good to crack everything, stretch every muscle that was sore from yesterday, and have everything in her body come alive again. She pitied people who never used most of the muscles in their body and so never found out how good it felt to feel them all at once.

Dimitri came in, late as usual, and made a place for himself between Taylor and Mao, even though there wasn't really any room. Taylor ignored that and shifted a little closer to Aiko.

A bang of the door signalled the entrance of Mr. Yu, bringing energy and emotion into the half-awake room. Everybody started at the sudden noise, and slowly began to rise from their stretching positions, or take out their iPod headphones, or shed warm-up clothing. Taylor took off her down-filled warm-up boots and put her iPod inside them. “Very romantic,” Mr. Yu said sarcastically, referring to the atmosphere. He flicked on the overhead lights.

Taylor winced, automatically covering her eyes from the harsh light.

Mr. Yu walked over to the
barre
and bent his back over it, cracking it with a sigh of relief. The sound of so many bones in his body cracking at once made a loud noise in the quiet room. “Good,” Mr. Yu said. “Keep me young.” He signalled to George, who was behind the piano already, and hummed the general tune that he wanted. George began to play something utterly different, and Mr. Yu began to give the first exercise: “And breathe. Rise uppppp …. And dowwwwwwn … and uuuuuppp … and hold.” He looked over at Taylor and hit her in the butt. “Squeeze and rotate! Don't make soft!” He moved down the
barre
, handing out corrections verbally and physically. He didn't notice that Andrew was there until he had almost finished his round. Throughout the exercise, they'd all been sneaking glances over at Andrew, waiting for Mr. Yu to spot him. Mr. Yu stood beside Andrew, a frown on his face as he tried to comprehend what his former student was doing there. Andrew kept his head moving with his
port de bras,
his lip twitching with the effort to keep a straight face. “You!”

Andrew kept working, pretending not to hear, and then suddenly looked up, gave a fake start of surprise. “Mr. Yu! Didn't see you there!”

Mr. Yu started laughing, shaking his head. He gave Andrew a hug. “Long time no see,” he said stiffly, the expression right but unnatural on his tongue. “How long you back?”

“A week.”

“Then go back to work?”

“Yup.”

Taylor could feel sweat begin to bead down her back by
tendues,
and she started to remove the last of her warm-up clothes. Mr. Yu snapped at Mao as she tried to rotate from an
arabesque
to a
develope devant
. “Why you still jerk?” he asked, referring to the hip shift she made as her leg moved from the back to the front. “How old you now?”