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Let's Rock! Page 2


  “Thanks,” Bria said. “I think.”

  Toni waved her hand in the air. “Enough! You’re dismissed. I’ve had enough horsing around for today.”

  “How’d it go?” Scarlett asked Liberty and Bria as they flopped down on benches in the dressing room.

  “You mean how didn’t it go?” Liberty said grumpily. “Toni totally shot down my couture cowboy costume.”

  “But she did approve your idea for the rocking horses,” Bria complained. “Did I mention I have no idea how to ride a horse?”

  “A horse? Seriously?” Scarlett chuckled. “How are we gonna fit that in the overhead on our flight to L.A.?”

  “Not a real horse—a mechanical one. That goes up and down,” Bria said. “Did I also mention I get motion sickness, Liberty?”

  “She does,” Scarlett said, nodding. “Trust me. I sat next to her on the Tilt-A-Whirl at the spring carnival and it was not pretty.”

  “Just thinking about it makes me queasy,” Bria said, sighing.

  “Oh, stop complaining,” Liberty said. “The horse is the least of our problems. Our costumes are going to be totally drab and probably covered in dust and tumbleweeds.”

  Scarlett tucked her hair under a glamorous blond wig. “How do I look?”

  Liberty frowned. “That just makes me feel worse. I hate this duet! I hate Miss Toni! The Marilyn Monroe solo should have been mine.”

  “Gee, someone’s in a bad mood. That’s more like it,” Rochelle said, striding into the dressing room. “I feel so much better when Liberty is miserable.”

  “For your information, I am not miserable,” she insisted. “Actually, when I think about it, I’m thrilled. I spoke to my mom this morning and she says I’m a shoo-in for the spotlight dancer in the Sugar Dolls’ video.”

  “Aw, that’s so nice of your mommy to give you the lead,” Rochelle replied. “It must be nice to be a spoiled brat who gets whatever she wants.”

  “And it must be nice to be talentless and clueless,” Liberty shot back.

  “Divas! Divas!” Scarlett stepped in to referee. “Can we focus on the positive here? We’re all going to Hollywood! We’re all going to be in a pop video.”

  Liberty shot Rochelle a nasty look. “Not if I can help it. I’m calling my mom right now.” She stormed out of the room.

  “You think she’s bluffing?” Bria asked Rochelle.

  “Don’t know, don’t care.” Rochelle shrugged. “When I’m a pro dancer, I’m gonna be cast in a ton of music videos. I don’t need Liberty Montgomery to do me any favors.”

  “But, Rock, I want you to be in the video with us,” Scarlett said. “We’re a team. It wouldn’t be any fun without you.”

  “Just say you’re sorry for calling her a spoiled brat,” Bria suggested.

  “But she is a spoiled brat,” Rochelle said.

  “Rock, please?” Scarlett pleaded. “For me?”

  Rochelle sighed. “Fine. I’ll go find Liberty and tell her I’m sorry. But I’m crossing my fingers behind my back.”

  Scarlett looked at Bria and shook her head. “Maybe we should rename our team the Drama Divas?”

  “The style of your solo is classical ballet,” Miss Toni explained to Scarlett on Wednesday. “Marilyn was a beautiful, tragic figure. I want you to dance en pointe and make the judges fall in love with you.”

  “My mom said she was a bombshell—whatever that means,” Scarlett said, stretching at the barre.

  “It means she was vivacious and people tripped over themselves just to get near her,” Toni explained. “She seemed sweet and innocent, even naive at times. But she wielded a tremendous amount of power.”

  Scarlett fastened the ribbons on her toe shoes. “That’s a lot of different things to show in one dance,” she said.

  “If anyone can do it, you can,” Toni said. “I’m counting on you. Don’t let me down.”

  Scarlett loved how much faith Miss Toni had in her, but at the same time, it made her nervous. What if she missed a step? Tripped and fell? It had all happened before, and she knew it would happen again. She just hoped it wasn’t at Electric Dance.

  “The arms and legs have to balance each other out,” she said while she demonstrated. “I want long and graceful mixed with strength.” She did a perfect tombé pas de bourrée and then a pirouette into a finishing fourth. It took Scarlett’s breath away. Sometimes she forgot that Miss Toni had once been a prima ballerina. She and Justine Chase, City Feet’s coach, had been students together at American Ballet Company, where their friendship had begun and ended. But why it ended was still a puzzle. The girls had learned that Justine tried to steal Toni’s roles and even her boyfriend. But they also suspected there had to be more to the story. The only thing that was clear was that Miss Toni wanted to beat City Feet just as much as the Divas did—maybe even more. For her, it was personal.

  “This will be your costume.” Miss Toni pulled a silky white halter dress out of the closet. “Very Marilyn, don’t you think?”

  Scarlett nodded. She especially loved the tiny pearls around the neckline and waist. It was both delicate and glam at the same time—exactly how she imagined Marilyn Monroe had been.

  “The key will be to keep it real,” Miss Toni said, adjusting Scarlett’s turnout. “Nothing over the top. Just clean, beautiful lines and a haunted face. Let me see it.”

  Scarlett tried to look both pained and pretty at the same time. She pouted her lips and blinked her eyes.

  “Oh no … You look like a puppy dog!” Toni complained. “You need to practice in front of a mirror. If you make that face, there is no way you’re taking home first place in Junior Solo. The judges will throw you a dog biscuit!”

  Scarlett winced. Sometimes Toni’s critiques stung. But she nodded her head and promised she’d work on it.

  “Scoot then, Scoot,” Toni said. “Isn’t that what Gracie calls you?”

  Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

  “Well, I’m going to call you ‘Sour Puss’ until I see a better Marilyn face.”

  At home that night, Scarlett stood in front of her bathroom mirror, trying to channel her inner Marilyn.

  “What are you doing?” Gracie asked, watching her make strange faces at her reflection.

  “Do you mind? I’m working on showing emotion for my solo at Electric Dance.”

  Gracie looked confused. “Are you supposed to be sick?”

  “No!” Scarlett shot back. “I’m supposed to be sad and tragic and incredibly beautiful.”

  Gracie shook her head. “You look like you have a tummy ache.”

  Scarlett tried another face: this one with a furrowed brow and a wrinkled nose.

  “Yup,” Gracie said. “That’s definitely the ouchy face.”

  “Mom!” Scarlett shouted. “Gracie is driving me crazy!”

  “Am not!” Gracie replied. “I’m trying to help!”

  Scarlett shooed her away and went to her room, where she brought up video chat on her computer. Bria appeared on the other end.

  “I knew you’d be on your computer!” Scarlett said. Bria was always up late, studying one subject or another.

  “Make it quick.” She sighed. “I have twenty more problems to go on my pre-algebra homework.”

  “I can’t get the right face for my solo,” Scarlett explained. “I can feel it when I dance, but I just can’t get that feeling from my toes to my head.”

  Bria thought for a moment. “Imagine yourself dancing on the stage. Now try.”

  Scarlett made a face into the computer camera. “How’s this?”

  “You kind of look like you ate one of Gracie’s crazy recipes and you have a stomachache,” Bria said.

  “Miss Toni said she wants my face to look haunted. But apparently all I can do is look sick.”

  “I think the problem is that you’re trying too hard,” Bria suggested. “Don’t pretend. Think of something really sad and connect with it.”

  Scarlett racked her brain for the sad
dest memory she could think of. “I just don’t know,” she told her friend. “What would you say is your saddest memory?”

  “Definitely my last science pop quiz,” Bria said. “That was a nightmare. I blanked and forgot all the answers.”

  “No, I mean something really, really sad. Something that breaks your heart,” Scarlett insisted. Then it came to her: the day, two years ago, that her mom and dad told her they were getting divorced.

  “Please! Don’t!” she had screamed at her parents through hysterical tears. “I don’t want this to happen to us.”

  “Honey.” Her dad had tried to calm her. “You have to be a big girl about this. It’s not working between your mom and me, and we can’t live together anymore.”

  “We’ll always be here for you and Gracie,” her mom added. “We love you and your sister so much, and nothing will ever change that.”

  Scarlett remembered feeling like someone had knocked the wind out of her. She felt completely lost and helpless. There was nothing she could do to keep their family together. It felt like floating aimlessly in space, with no one and nothing to grab on to …

  “That’s it, that’s it!” Bria shouted, snapping her friend back to the present day. “Scarlett, that was a great face.”

  Scarlett shuddered and shook the feeling away. “I guess that’s what I need to think about,” she said. “Poor Marilyn. I can’t imagine feeling like that all the time.”

  “Well, just remember it for your next rehearsal,” Bria said. “And if it doesn’t work, I can give you my science quiz. It’s pretty sad and scary.”

  Rochelle showed up for her solo rehearsal ten minutes early. She figured it couldn’t hurt to get on Miss Toni’s good side, especially since she had yet to design her costume.

  “Well, look who’s here!” Toni said, entering the studio. “I guess the key to getting you to come to class on time is to give you a hip-hop number.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m really psyched for it,” Rochelle said, shuffling her feet on the ground.

  “Good. Because I have a special surprise for you.”

  Rochelle’s eyes lit up. “Am I going to dance with Hayden Finley again?” For the Leaps and Bounds competition, Toni had paired her with a boy, and they’d been hanging out together ever since.

  Toni shook her head. “Nope. You and Hayden will have to do your partnering out of the studio,” she said firmly. There was no putting anything past her dance coach. She knew that she and Hayden liked each other—despite the fact that Rochelle had hurt her ankle and messed up their chance to dance together in the competition.

  “No duet this time. This one is all yours,” Toni said. “If you think you’re up to it.”

  Rochelle nodded. “Oh yeah. Bring it on!”

  The door of the studio cracked open. “Hey, y’all!” called a deep voice.

  “Come in!” Toni replied. “Rochelle, I’d like you to meet Jerome.”

  “So this is the famous Rochelle I’ve heard about,” the man said as he entered the studio. He was wearing the coolest outfit Rochelle had ever seen: black pants and a colorful graphic tee with a black leather jacket over it. “Nice to meet you.”

  “It’s Rock,” Rochelle answered, extending her hand to shake.

  The man grinned. “Your name says it all. You can call me J. J.”

  “J. J. has a fine reputation as a hip-hop choreographer,” Toni explained. “And since that kind of dance is not my specialty, I thought I’d bring in someone to help you really bust some moves.”

  J. J. smiled. “I don’t know the first thing about dancing on my toes. But I do know some pretty smooth moves.”

  He demonstrated a quick pop and lock and drop it. “I figured we’d mix up some new moves with old school,” he said. “Keep the judges guessing.”

  “As long as you keep the judges smiling,” Toni warned him. “I want a winning routine.”

  J. J. tipped his baseball cap. “Yes, ma’am!” he said with a wink. “Is she always this pushy, Rock?”

  Rock almost said “you better believe it!”—but thought twice since Miss Toni was staring at her. “Miss Toni isn’t pushy. She’s just got strong opinions.”

  “And I have not formed an opinion yet about this routine,” she fired back. “So wow me, J. J.—and you, too, Rochelle.”

  For two hours, J. J. put Rochelle through her paces. It was a very complicated routine done to a rapid-fire rap song. “Keep on the rhythm,” he yelled. “You’re falling behind the beat. Faster! Faster! Stop being lazy and dragging your feet. I want an explosion. I want to see attitude!”

  When she came out of the studio, she was exhausted and dripping sweat. She could barely crawl back to the dressing room.

  “I feel like I’ve been through a war,” she panted, collapsing on the bench.

  Scarlett tossed her a towel. “I guess the new choreographer Miss Toni hired is tough?”

  “Tough?” Rochelle sat up and mopped her face with the towel. “He’s like the guy version of Toni! He’s scary tough.”

  “I think he’s really nice,” Gracie interjected.

  “How do you know?” Rochelle asked her.

  “ ’Cause when I got here after school, Miss Toni introduced me to him.”

  “I met him, too,” Anya piped up. “He seems really cool.”

  Rochelle shook her head. “I am in serious trouble.”

  “Not as much trouble as I am,” Bria said suddenly. She was staring in disbelief at her laptop screen. “They just posted our grades for the science midterm!”

  Rochelle sighed. “You know, you worry way too much, Bri. You studied like a maniac, and I’m sure you knocked it out of the park.”

  Bria turned the laptop around to show them what it said. There, in big red type, was the letter “F.”

  “You failed it?” Scarlett gasped. “How? Why?”

  “I have no idea!” Bria cried. “All I know is that my parents are gonna kill me. And there goes the trip to Hollywood. They’ll never let me go now.”

  “Maybe you can do some extra credit,” Gracie volunteered. “Like a diorama or a poster or something.”

  “That might work in second grade, Gracie, but my science teacher, Ms. Moran, doesn’t believe in extra credit.” Bria buried her head in her hands. “I’m doomed. Doomed, doomed, doomed.”

  “I actually think Gracie had a great idea,” Scarlett said.

  “I did?” Gracie replied. “I mean, I did! What did I say?”

  “You said Bria should do some extra credit—and I think that’s exactly what she should do.” Scarlett turned to Bria. “Just like how you wow those tough judges every competition, you can wow your teacher, too.”

  “How?” Bria sighed. “She won’t appreciate my back handspring.”

  “No, but she will appreciate it if you rap the entire science unit and prove that you know it.”

  “Rap? I don’t rap,” Bria replied.

  “Which is exactly why we’re going to teach you how. And we’ll all do a routine as your backup dancers,” Scarlett said, nodding to all of the girls.

  Anya held up her hand. “I don’t get it. We’re going to drag her science teacher here to the studio to watch us do a number?”

  “Nope!” Scarlett replied. “Bria is going to make a video on her laptop and bring it to school.”

  “Like a real music video?” Gracie asked. “Like Lady Gaga?”

  “Better,” Scarlett said, smiling. “Lady Bria!”

  “I can definitely help,” Rochelle said. “As soon as I catch my breath.”

  Bria sighed. It was a long shot. But it was either this or be grounded for all eternity and miss out on going to Hollywood. “Okay, I’ll try anything to get Ms. Moran to give me a better grade.”

  Anya peeked outside of the dressing room. “Studio three is empty. And I think we could sneak in and pull down the shades so Miss Toni won’t see us.”

  Rochelle wiped the sweat off her forehead and scooped her long curls into a messy bun. “Let’s see
what we’re dealing with,” she said, turning Bria’s laptop toward her. She studied the screen. “Earth Science? Worms? You want Bria to rap this?” she said to Scarlett.

  “I told you it’s hopeless,” Bria said. “I can’t think of anything that rhymes with protozoa.”

  “I don’t know-a!” Gracie said, giggling. “That rhymes!”

  Scarlett scratched her head. “Well, it would have been easier if it was biology. ‘The leg bone’s connected to the hip bone’ kind of stuff. But I’m not giving up yet.”

  Liberty swept into the dressing room—and Rochelle quickly covered Bria’s laptop with her towel.

  “What are you guys up to?” she asked.

  “We’re making a music vid—” Gracie started to say before Scarlett clamped a hand over her mouth.

  “Oh, nothing,” Scarlett fibbed. The last thing they needed was for Liberty to butt in on Bria’s extra credit project. “Just homework.”

  Liberty looked from face to face. “Homework? Are you sure?” She turned to Gracie. “Or are you hiding something?”

  Gracie bit her lip. “Nuh-uh. We’re helping Bria with her science homework.” Technically, it wasn’t a lie.

  Liberty grabbed her dance bag off the shelf and glanced over her shoulder. “Okay, if you’re all going to sit here and do homework, I’m outta here. I have much more exciting things to do.”

  “I bet,” Rochelle muttered. “Ta-ta, Liberty!” She waved her off.

  Once the coast was clear, they uncovered Bria’s computer again and began planning. “So worms eat bacteria, fungi, protozoa, organic matter, and decaying animals?”

  “Eww!” Anya squirmed. “That’s disgusting.”

  “Tell me about it,” Bria groaned. “This is why I failed my test. It grosses me out.”

  Rochelle hopped off the bench and began to wiggle her hips. “Do the worm, do the worm,” she began to rap. “Shimmy up, shimmy down, spin yourself around. Crawl through the soil, slink through the ground.” She got on her stomach and rested the palms of her hands parallel to her chest on the floor. Then she began to kick her legs in the air and the rest of her body popped up in a wiggly motion.