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- Sheryl Berk
On Pointe
On Pointe Read online
To Francis Patrelle and everyone at dP and
The Yorkville Nutcracker. Thank you for your
dedication, inspiration, and perspiration, and
for making magic onstage year after year!
Contents
1 Going Nuts
2 Casting Call
3 And 5, 6, 7, 8 …
4 Tiny Dancer
5 That’s the Way the Cookie Crumbles
6 New Boy on the Block
7 Spaced Out
8 Birthday Blastoff
9 Get to the Pointe
10 Scene and Heard
11 Diva in Training
12 A Brewing Storm
13 Snow Business
14 We’re All in This Together
15 Curtains Up
16 Home Sweet Home
Glossary of Dance Terms
Acknowledgments
About the Author
By the Same Author
Chapter 1
Going Nuts
Anya Bazarov walked past the bulletin board outside Dance Divas studio 1 and did a double take. She yanked a flyer down and raced into the dressing room, where the rest of her teammates were getting ready for ballet class.
“Did you see this?” she asked excitedly, waving the sheet of paper in the air.
“I can’t see it unless you stand still,” replied Liberty. She stood up and grabbed the paper out of Anya’s hand and read aloud: “ ‘Dances Minnelli presents A New Jersey Nutcracker.’ Yeah? So?”
“So? So keep reading. They’re casting it next weekend! They’re looking for dancers to play the leads!” Anya said.
“Lemme see that,” Scarlett said. “I’ve always dreamed of playing Clara in The Nutcracker.”
“I’ve always wanted to be the Sugar Plum Fairy,” Anya said. “Since I was seven years old and saw it for the first time at the Los Angeles Ballet.”
Scarlett read the details on the flyer. “ ‘Wanted: children ages seven to sixteen for principal roles. Must have at least two years of dance experience and be currently enrolled in a preprofessional dance program.’ ”
“Do you think they’ll have the Land of Sweets scene?” Bria asked. “I’d love to be one of the Spanish hot chocolate dancers. Or the Arabian coffee!”
“And I could be one of the Russian candy canes,” Rochelle said. “They have the best music and the coolest moves.”
Scarlett’s little sister, Gracie, had been barely paying attention. But the word “sweets” suddenly piqued her interest. “What do you mean ‘Land of Sweets’?” she asked.
“Oh, it’s so beautiful!” Anya explained. “Clara and the prince travel to a breathtaking candy land where candies from all over the world perform for them. And the Sugar Plum Fairy is in charge!”
“Don’t you remember Gram taking us to see The Nutcracker at Lincoln Center in New York City a few years ago?” Scarlett asked her. “You were about four years old and all you wanted to do was go home. You kept ducking under the seat when the Mouse King came onstage.”
Gracie shrugged. “I kinda remember the creepy mouse guy. Oh! And Grandma buying us hot dogs from a cart on the street outside the theater.”
Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Of course all you’d remember about this gorgeous ballet is what you ate, Gracie.”
Gracie pouted. “Well, I’m older now. I’m seven and three-quarters, and the paper says you need to be seven to audition. I wanna be in the show, too.”
“I can totally see you as one of the cute and fuzzy little mice,” Anya teased her. She got down on all fours and pretended to sniff around the dressing room floor. “Squeak! Squeak!”
“Those mice were not cute and fuzzy!” Gracie protested. “They were gray and ugly with long tails and twitchy noses. I am not playing a mean mouse.”
“I think Gracie has reindeer written all over her,” Bria suggested. “You know? One of the little guys who pull Clara’s sleigh?”
“Reindeer are okay,” Gracie said. “At least they’re cute and they don’t scare people. What other parts are there?”
Anya did a graceful pirouette. “There’s also the beautiful Snow Queen—or Dew Drop Fairy, who dances the ‘Waltz of the Flowers,’ ” she said.
“Clara is the best part,” Scarlett added. “She’s the main character and she gets to do a gorgeous pas de deux with the Nutcracker Prince.”
“Ooh! I wanna be Clara!” Gracie said, clapping her hands together excitedly. “Especially if she gets to dance with a prince and go to Candyland!”
Liberty chuckled. “Dream on, Gracie. I’m sure they’ll cast someone with infinitely more ballet talent and experience. That would be me.”
“Excuse me?” Anya jumped in. “Or me.”
“Or me!” Scarlett said.
“Just a second. I know all about The Nutcracker,” Bria said. “Not only have I seen it every year since I was three years old with my family, but I know the whole history. I did a term paper on it. It was adapted from E. T. A. Hoffmann’s story The Nutcracker and the Mouse King, and it premiered in 1892 in St. Petersburg. Tchaikovsky wrote the score.”
“Bria, you are a human Google search engine.” Scarlett chuckled.
“Maybe for dance. Just not for biology or pre-algebra,” Bria said. “My brain crashes on those subjects.”
“You’d crash and burn as Clara, too,” Liberty said. “There’s no way you’ll beat me for that part.”
“Maybe Hayden and I will be Clara and her prince,” Rochelle added. She and her “boyfriend” had always wanted to perform together again, and this was the perfect opportunity.
“Don’t make me laugh,” Liberty snickered. “You? Clara? Puh-lease! But Hayden and I would certainly make a great team again. Did you forget when we won best duet at Leaps and Bounds?”
Rochelle gritted her teeth. How could she forget? If she hadn’t sprained her ankle, the trophy—and the duet with Hayden—would have been hers.
“That’s all very nice,” Anya said, piping up. “But I’m the one with the most ballet training.”
“Says who?” Liberty stared her down. “It’s not what you know in this biz, it’s who you know. And I bet my mom knows the choreographer for Dances Minnelli.”
“There you go again,” Rochelle said. “Always running to your Hollywood choreographer mommy to call in special favors.”
Scarlett stepped in to referee. “Divas, Divas! Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves here? The audition is next week. We’ll just all have to prepare and practice and see how it goes. Plus, we need to ask Miss Toni’s permission.”
With several competitions coming up, she wasn’t sure how their dance coach would feel about them taking time off to rehearse and do a different show.
The dressing room suddenly became silent, as each of the girls began to formulate her game plan for winning the lead. Rochelle was texting Hayden; Liberty went off to call her mom; Anya did another pirouette; and Scarlett and Gracie gathered around Bria’s laptop to see what other information they could find out about the production.
“It says here that ‘Dances Minnelli’s New Jersey Nutcracker will be the only Nutcracker in the tristate area to feature an all-kid cast,’ ” Bria read. “Even the adults in the opening party scene will be played by kids.”
“What else does it say?” Scarlett asked. “Any hints as to what they’re looking for in a Clara? Like, oh, maybe a redhead?” She twirled a long, curly strand of hair around her fingertips.
Bria scanned the website. “Nope, just lots of stuff on how the setting is really unique and nontraditional. The set for the Land of Sweets will look just like the boardwalk in Wildwood, New Jersey, complete with a working Ferris wheel onstage.”
“Cool!” Gracie squealed. “I hope Miss Toni lets us do the show.”
Bria’s face went white. “Um, I’m not so sure she will. Take a look at this.” She pointed to a line of fine print. “Directed by Marcus Sanzobar.”
“Oh my gosh! As in Toni’s ex? The guy who broke her heart when she was a student at American Ballet Company?” Scarlett exclaimed. “The guy who dumped her for Justine Chase, coach of City Feet?”
Bria nodded. “How many professional ballet dancers named Marcus Sanzobar could there be? Maybe we should leave that part out when we ask her …”
Chapter 2
Casting Call
Miss Toni demanded several things from her elite dance team: cooperation, coordination, and perspiration. But perhaps the most important thing was punctuality. If the clock ticked a second past the scheduled class time, it set even her teeth on edge.
“You’re late!” she barked as Scarlett, Bria, Anya, and Gracie raced through the ballet studio door at 5:02 p.m. “Class starts at five p.m. sharp. Where are the rest?”
Liberty and Rochelle practically knocked each other over to get through the door at the same time.
“Here!” Liberty shouted. “I would have been here sooner, but my mom had to put me on hold. Rihanna was on the other line.”
Rochelle muttered under her breath, “Name dropper,” then took her spot at the barre next to Scarlett. “I think you should ask Toni about The Nutcracker,” she told her friend.
“Me? Why me?” Scarlett whispered. She hated the idea of having to break the news to her teacher that Marcus was back on the dance scene.
“She likes you—and you’re our fearless leader,” Rochelle said, giving her a shove forward. “Go on!”
Scarlett took a deep breath. “Miss Toni, uh, we were just wondering …”
“I was wondering, too,” Toni said, interrupting. “I was wondering why we are wasting so much time today instead of beginning our ballet exercises at the barre. How can any of you expect to be real dancers one day if you don’t put in the work now?”
All the girls gulped as they prepared for one of Miss Toni’s famous lectures.
“And how are any of you going to get a principal role in A New Jersey Nutcracker if you don’t practice?” she continued.
Anya gasped. “But—but how did you know?”
Toni smiled. “Who do you think put up that flyer on the bulletin board? I expect my Divas to represent our studio at that audition in a week and take every one of those lead roles.”
Rochelle groaned. It was just like Toni to turn any situation—even a lovely holiday ballet—into a competition. “So you’re cool with us doing it? Even if it means we’ll be busy with rehearsals and performances?”
“You will make up every single class you miss here at Dance Divas,” she said. “Being in The Nutcracker is a bonus for you. Icing on the cake.”
“Sounds like tons more work to me,” Bria whispered. “And I’m barely able to keep up with my homework as it is!”
“The ballet’s performances are over the holiday break, so we won’t have any competitions until after the new year,” Toni said. “I think it’s an excellent way to keep you on your toes when you’re out of my sight.”
Anya’s hand went up. “But what if we don’t get cast?”
Toni’s smile faded. “That,” she said, and paused to look at each of the girls before continuing, “is not an option.”
The Divas were used to seeing tons of dancers at competitions almost every weekend, but never this many people in one place. The rehearsal space at Dances Minnelli was packed with kids of all ages who all wanted the same thing.
“My name is Amanda and I want to play Clara,” said a short girl with dark brown hair scooped into a high ponytail. She wore a crop top that read DANCE, SLEEP, REPEAT and leopard-print leggings. She gave all her information to Miss Andrea, the polite young woman taking the applications one by one.
“And where do you dance?” Miss Andrea smiled sweetly.
“Carrie B’s School of Hip-Hop,” Amanda replied proudly.
The woman rested her glasses on the tip of her nose. “No, I mean ballet, dear.”
“I don’t really take ballet lessons, so to speak,” Amanda replied. “But I am really flexible!” She dropped and did a handstand—on one hand.
“Hmm, okay. Make your way into studio two for ages ten and up.”
“This is ridiculous,” Liberty said, adjusting a bobby pin in her bun. “Am I the only qualified dancer here?”
Hayden elbowed Rochelle. “Promise me you won’t hurt yourself again and leave me dancing with her.” He pointed to Liberty.
“Promise!” Rochelle smiled, squeezing his hand. “We’re a shoo-in for Clara and the prince.”
“Think again,” Liberty replied. “A friend of a friend of my mom’s called and spoke to Mr. Minnelli himself. He can’t wait to cast me.”
“Cast you as what?” Rochelle fired back. “I doubt there’s a costume large enough to fit your big head.”
Hayden stepped between them. “Girls, play nice.”
“Hayden’s right,” Scarlett said, backing him up. “We promised Miss Toni we’d be on our best behavior.”
Rochelle shrugged. “She started it.”
Miss Andrea handed each girl a number to pin on their leotards.
“I’m number seventy-five. How about you?” Anya asked Scarlett.
“Number one hundred seventeen. This is crazy! How many hundreds of people are auditioning?”
“Speak for yourself,” Liberty said, flexing her feet in her toe shoes. “A little competition never scares me.”
“There’s competition, and there’s competition,” Bria said. “I’m number two hundred eighty-one. I’m not even sure I’ll get to audition at all today.”
Just then, a dapper-looking man with graying hair and a pink bow tie pushed between the rows of dancers. “Pardon me, coming through,” he said, waving a walking stick in the air.
Gracie smiled. “That’s a really cool stick,” she said, admiring the silver-tipped handle.
The man stopped in his tracks. “You think so?” he asked her. “Well, you have extremely good taste. Her Highness herself gave it to me.”
“The queen of England?” Gracie asked. “Did you meet her?”
“I was referring to the great Cynthia Gregory, America’s prima ballerina assoluta. She gifted it to me when I choreographed her at San Francisco Ballet.”
“Oh.” Gracie giggled. “Does she have a crown? ’Cause if not, I could make her one with some cardboard and tin foil. If my mom would let me. Last weekend she said my art projects make too much of a mess.”
The man’s eyes grew wide. “You’re quite a gabber aren’t you, little girl?”
“What’s a gabber?” Gracie replied. “It’s not something mean is it? Because my sister, Scoot, always says if you don’t have something nice to say, you shouldn’t say anything at all.”
“Gracie!” Scarlett said, covering her mouth with her hand. “I’m so sorry, sir. Whenever Gracie gets nervous, she can’t stop talking.”
Gracie wiggled free of her grasp. “I’m not nervous! I’m going to get the part of Clara and eat all the candy I want,” she declared proudly.
“Is that so?” the man asked. “We shall see.” Then he winked and continued toward the dance studio at the end of the hallway.
“Who was that?” Rochelle asked.
Bria held up her phone. “That was Mr. Minnelli. See—his picture is on the Dances Minnelli website.”
“Gracie,” Scarlett scolded her. “Why did you bother him? You may have just blown all of our chances to get a lead!”
“I did not,” Gracie insisted. “He was the one who said I was a grabber.”
“A gabber, not a grabber,” Scarlett corrected her. “Honestly, if you can’t act like a big girl, you don’t belong here auditioning.”
Gracie crossed her arms over her chest. “I am a big girl. I’m almost eight. So there!” She marched ahead of Scarlett to where Miss Andrea was lining up the younger dancers. As she wa
lked into the studio, she stuck her tongue out at her big sister.
“She drives me nuts!” Scarlett sighed, leaning on Rochelle’s shoulder. Her toe shoes were pinching from standing in them for so long.
“Don’t you mean she drives you nutcrackers?” Rochelle teased her.
“I don’t know how you guys can joke around at a time like this,” Anya said. She had already stretched several times and was now doing deep pliés against the wall. “Aren’t you nervous?”
“I don’t get nervous,” Liberty bragged.
But Anya noticed that Liberty was drumming her foot on the floor.
Miss Andrea stood on a chair and clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “May I please have numbers one through one hundred in studio one; one hundred one through two hundred in studio two; and two hundred one through three hundred in studio three,” she shouted over the noise. “Does everyone know where they’re supposed to be?”
Liberty and Anya headed for the first door while Scarlett, Rochelle, and Hayden went to the second. Bria was the only one of the Divas in the third group.
“Break a leg!” she called after them.
Chapter 3
And 5, 6, 7, 8 …
The youngest dancers were all seated on the floor of studio four when Miss Andrea and Mr. Minnelli walked in. The ballet mistress, Miss Noreen, was taking attendance.
“I need Olivia, Julia, Alexa, Madison, and Gracie over here,” she said, pointing to the center of the floor. “Please stand in first position.”
The girls all stood up and took a spot in front of the mirrors. Gracie skipped over and waved to Mr. Minnelli.
“I’m going to teach you a little combination,” Miss Noreen explained. “Everyone watch, because you’ll have to do it, too,” she instructed the other children gathered on both sides of the room.
The routine was fairly simple: balancé, a pirouette, and a grand plié.
While the others struggled, Gracie mastered it in minutes.
“Nice, Gracie.” Miss Noreen wrote on her clipboard. “You pick choreography up quickly.”