I Forgot to Tell You (5 page)

Mao looked up. “Seventeen.”

“Too old! Too old have hip shift, way too old.”

Taylor instinctively moved a bit back from Mao on the
barre
as Mr. Yu stayed close to them, watching Mao carefully. Taylor knew that he cared about how good Mao was more than he normally would because she homestayed with him. He didn't want anyone in his homestay to be doing badly.

Finally Mr. Yu snapped and yelled, “Stop!” across the room to George. George took his hands off the piano keys, raising his palms up in the classic gesture of surrender. As the last notes died away, Mr. Yu turned to Mao. “Why you no improve? Why you not better?”

Mao was quiet, confused.

Mr. Yu shook his head disgustedly. “If you not improve, why I teach? For fun? You still the same as when you come to Academy. Same mistakes.” He looked at her. The whole class was watching them, some concerned, some entertained, some bored. “When you come to Canada from Japan?”

“When?” Mao asked, making sure of the question, nervousness making her English weak.

“Yes, when! What, you deaf, too?”

Mao shook her head.

“Do it again.” Mao tried again, but made the same hip shift. Her muscles weren't strong enough to make it around smoothly. Mr. Yu expelled a breath of air, disgusted. “Get out.”

Mao looked at him, confused.

Mr. Yu pointed at the door. “There door. Out. You don't listen, don't improve, go out, have fun. Go.”

Mao stayed at the
barre
, not moving.

Mr. Yu glared at her. “Why you not go? Go!”

Mao didn't move.

“Okay, you no listen to me? Fine. I leave.” He walked toward the door, and at the doorway he turned around, staring at the class. “Class finished. Thank Mao.” He walked out the door.

Everyone stared at Mao, who looked like she was going to cry.

“Uh —” Andrew spoke up. Everyone turned to look at him. He turned to George. “Can I have some
frappe
music, George?” he asked.

George nodded and played a few chords. “That good for you, Andy?”

“Perfect.” Andrew turned toward the
barre
and began directing a
frappe
exercise. “And one, two, three … and one, two three. Rise,
fondue
, out —
pirouette
! To the side. And one, two, three …”

Taylor looked over at Mao, standing in front of her. She was marking the exercise, watching Andrew carefully, and looked much calmer. Taylor began to learn the exercise.

After class, Taylor went downstairs to change into her uniform. As she came out of the stall, she saw Mao standing next to her locker, fumbling with the lock. She looked like she'd been crying. Taylor paused, waiting to see if she was all right. Mao looked up and saw her. “Oh! Taylor. I'm sorry for ruining class.”

“You didn't ruin class, Mao,” Taylor assured her. “I'm glad Andrew taught us. It was fun. Are you okay?”

Mao nodded, and quickly became very interested in searching for something in her locker, so Taylor left her and went upstairs.

Mr. Demidovski was sitting in the hallway watching a younger class practise, as he did occasionally. He had a small smile on his face, and kept glancing proudly over the lobby, like a king surveying his kingdom. “Taylor,” he said, nodding at her. “How are youuuu?”

“Good,” Taylor said, smiling. “How are you, Mr. Demidovski?”

“Look,” Mr. Demidovski said, pointing through the open door to the studio. “See Michael, see Chloe — they are getting much better.”

Taylor nodded, biting her lip as she watched. They weren't really that much younger than her, Michael was twelve and Chloe was eleven, and watching younger people that were better than she was at their age always made her feel a little sick. Mr. Demidovski lightly grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him. She leaned in. “Mr. Demidovski want you to learn Swanhilda,” he whispered. He let her go and said in a normal voice, “Yes?”

Taylor nodded, very quickly. She was confused. Did this mean that he might be considering having her dance Swanhilda? That couldn't be true.

“Shush,” Mr. Demidovski said, putting his finger to his lips. “Don't tell.” He looked around the lobby at all the other dancers scattered around out of earshot, and then back at Taylor. He nodded meaningfully.

“Yes.”

Mr. Demidovski got up with a fair bit of effort and walked slowly down the hall, back to the office. Taylor went to class, her brain buzzing with what he had said.

Taylor ran all the way from the bus stop up to her house, and straight to her room. She opened up her laptop and carried it to her bed, going onto YouTube and searching “Swanhilda variation
.
” Charlize came up to her room, confused. “Are you all right, Taylor? What happened?”

“I'm good,” Taylor said impatiently.

“What are you doing?” Charlize asked, folding her arms.

“Watching Natalia Osipova do the
Coppelia
Act 1 variation,” Taylor answered. “Okay?”

“Why was that so urgent that you couldn't be bothered taking off your shoes?”

Taylor looked away from her screen and down at her feet.
Uh oh.
“Um — today Mr. Demidovski said something very weird and strange, but maybe good?” Taylor muted the volume on the video.

“What did he say?”

“He said that he wanted me to learn Swanhilda.” Taylor looked up at her mother, hoping that she would be able to illuminate Mr. Demidovski's vague statement.

She was out of luck. Charlize frowned and shook her head, just as confused. “What is that supposed to mean? Learn Swanhilda for what? For competition? Does he actually want you to rehearse it for
Coppelia
this year? What else did he say?”

Taylor shrugged. “That was it. I don't know what he meant. Oh, and then he told me not to tell anyone.”

Charlize blinked. “That's not strange at all. What are you doing then?”

“I'm just going to try and learn all the Swanhilda variations tonight. I basically know them, but I want to
actually
know them.”

Charlize shook her head. “Okay. That seems like a good idea. I don't know what else you could be doing. Dinner in an hour. And could you please get started on your online school work? I know Mr. Briggs told you to take a break from school, but that doesn't mean that you should be doing nothing. If you don't use your brain, it doesn't get developed, and you never get any smarter.”

“Okay, okay,” Taylor said, not listening. She kept her finger hovering over the mute button until Charlize had finished talking, and then started the video again from the beginning. Natalia was so great.
Okay, time to learn this
. She started going through it, stopping the video every few seconds to make sure she was doing it right. She hoped this was the right version; she thought it was, but she couldn't remember exactly which version Grace and Alexandra had been rehearsing.

Alison came in and sat in the bed. “What are you learning?”

“Swanhilda. Go away.”

“Is that the one with the doll that the boy falls in love with and then they're all mean to the old man who makes the doll?”

“Yes.”

Alison watched Taylor mark the steps in the small clear space in her room for a bit, keeping very quiet. “Taylor, you're pretty.”

“Thanks.” Taylor sighed. It was always a bit hard to learn things from YouTube, because it was like learning from a mirror image, so she had to keep going back to make sure she was going in the right direction.

“I wish I was as pretty as you.”

Taylor stopped, shocked. “What?”

Alison shrugged, looking sad. “You look like Mom, and I look like Dad. I wish I looked like Mom instead.”

Taylor jumped on the bed beside her sister, nearly knocking her laptop to the ground, and wrapped her arms around her. “Alison, I think you're pretty.”

“All my friends say that you're prettier than me, and then they ask why I'm not pretty.”

Taylor looked down at the back of her sister's head and hugged her. She didn't know what to say. “I'm not prettier than you,” she said slowly, “we just look different.”

“Okay,” Alison said, moving out of Taylor's arms. She obviously didn't believe Taylor.

“Um, Ali, I really have to learn this for tomorrow.”

“Okay, okay, I'll go.” Alison jumped off the bed and left, closing Taylor's door behind her. Taylor drew a deep breath in and then exhaled.
Okay, focus, Taylor. Learn this.
She began going through the first part of the first act variation again.

Alexandra Dunstan

Wanting to be someone else is a waste of the person you are. Kurt Cobain <3

Alexandra sat on the living room floor, bodysuits laid out around her.

Beth came hurrying through the hallway, passed the open door, and then walked back. “What are you doing, Alexandra?”

Alexandra looked up. “Going through my bodysuits. I wanted to adjust a few of them.” She looked down at the wine-coloured one in her lap. “I wanted to maybe sew this one in the front, put a gather in?”

Beth looked around the room. “Could you please do this in your room?”

“Uh, okay — why?”

“We have guests coming over.” Beth looked toward the door.

Alexandra began hurriedly gathering up the bodysuits. “Okay. Who?”

“Justin's bringing his girlfriend over.”

“Oh.” Alexandra slowed down, gathering up her bodysuits.

Beth came into the living room and sat down on the couch. “It's Anna.”

“Anna?” Alexandra looked up a Beth, confused. “Her name is Anna?”

“Yes. He's dating Anna Valarao.”

Alexandra stared at her mother, her mouth actually dropping from shock. “What? No! He cannot date Anna Valarao! That is not okay! You told him that it's not okay, right?”

“I can't tell him that, Alexandra,” Beth said, annoyed. “He can decide on his own who he wants to date, and so far she seems to be good for him. She's better than that Bridget.” The way Beth said “Bridget” made the name have twice the syllables it ought to have had, and gave it a significance normally reserved for the name “Jezebel.”

“But it's Anna!”

Beth shrugged. “If it bothers you that much, then you can discuss it with Justin.” She stood up. “But please move the bodysuits out of the living room.”

Alexandra grabbed the bodysuits, ran up to her room and threw them on her bed, then ran to her brother's room and knocked on his door. Realizing he wasn't in his room, she called his cellphone.

“Lexi. What's up?”

“Are you dating Anna Valarao?”

“Uh — yes, I am … look, is that all you called to talk to me about, Lexi? Because this sort of isn't a good time …”

“You can't date her!” Alexandra said. Her voice sounded a lot louder and higher-pitched than she had intended it to.

“Um, Lexi, I'm hanging up now. By the way, she's right beside me, and she could hear that.”

Alexandra lost the connection, and she set the phone down on her bed. This was terrible. This was worse than terrible, this was awful. She ran downstairs, cornering her mother in the kitchen. “Is she coming for dinner?”

“Yes. And no, you cannot skip dinner.”

“That's not what I wanted to ask. Can I invite someone over?”

Beth considered. “I suppose that's fair. As long as you are polite.” She rethought. “And as long as it isn't Tristan.”

“Why not Tristan?!”

“I'm not stupid, Lexi. I do not want you and Tristan making that girl miserable while she is here. You need to put your differences aside. I think she might be good for Justin; he said that his GPA has gone up since he started dating her.”

“Yeah, he
said.
Have you seen his transcript?”

Beth didn't bother answering Alexandra, instead focusing on the sauce she was making.

“Okay, fine. I'll invite someone else.”

Alexandra went upstairs and went through her conversation list on her phone, trying to find someone who would make the night more bearable.
Jessica? Definitely not. Grace? Uh, obviously not. Taylor (ew), Kaitlyn, Mao, Aiko, Emily … haven't hung out with her in, like, a year, would be too weird. Kageki, Keiko …
She gave up and started to look through her phonebook, through the people that she'd never even texted.
Julian. Hmm.
She paused, considering. There wasn't that much time left to decide; it was already almost five o' clock. “Eeny, meeny, miny, moe …”
Oh, whatever.
She picked up the phone and called Julian.

“Hey, Julian?”

“Hey, Lexi … what's up?” Julian sounded confused, and Alexandra didn't blame him. She'd never called him before.

‘Hey, I've got like a massive favour to ask you. This is going to sound really weird …”

“Okay …”

“You know Anna?”

“Um …”

“Sorry, stupid question. She's decided to date my brother.” Alexandra waited for Julian's reaction on the other end of the line. All she got was silence. “Julian?”

“Um, yeah — is this a good thing? Or a bad thing?”

“It's a bad thing!”

More silence. “Why?”

Alexandra held the phone away for herself for a moment. “Ugh!” She put the phone back up to her ear. “It just is. Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to come to dinner. Anna's coming over, and I just know it's going to be super awkward.”

“Things are only as awkward as you make them.”

“Not helping, Julian. Can you come?”

“Um, tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I've got some homework I really need to do, but …”

“You can do it here. I'll go ask my mom if we can go pick you up. Phone you when we're at your house.”

“Okay, do you even know where I live?”

“Of course.
Everyone
knows where Mr. Yu lives. Bye.” Alexandra hung up on Julian and ran back downstairs to where her mother was. “Mom, can you please drive me to pick up Julian? He lives in Mr. Yu's homestay.”

Beth stared at her. “Lexi, are you insane? Mr. Yu lives way too far away, and I am in the middle of cooking dinner!”

“Mom, please! Come on, you're letting Justin date Anna, and Julian can't bus here, it's way too far and the buses are stupid.”

Justin appeared in the kitchen door. “So what are you planning now, oh crazy, rude, annoying, idiotic sister of mine?”

“I hate you, Justin.” Alexandra turned back to her mother. “Please? If have to go to this stupid dinner, then I get to have someone over, too. It's not fair.”

“Oh no, you don't,” Justin interjected quickly. “You are not inviting Tristan over. I've heard you two talking about Anna together, and you're enough of a bitch on your own.”

“Language, Justin,” Beth said automatically, putting the chicken in the oven. “And I already told her she couldn't invite Tristan, don't worry. Now she wants me to drive all the way into Vancouver, to the east side, to pick up that new boy.”

“Who?”

“Julian,” Alexandra interrupted, her voice pitching into a whine. “You have to, Mom, otherwise it's not fair.”

“I remember Julian,” Justin said, thinking. “You know what? Go get your coat; I'll drive you to pick him up.”

Alexandra stared at him. “Really?”

“Yes. I like him; he seemed like a good kid.”

Alexandra ran to get her purse and coat, and then followed Justin to his car, getting in the passenger seat beside him. She wanted to say thanks, but it didn't seem appropriate, so instead she said, “Why do you have to date Anna?”

Justin whistled, annoyed. “I can't wait until you turn into a normal human being and start liking boys. I like Anna because she's cool, and funny, and hot.” He reached out and turned on the radio, adjusting it to the Peak and beginning to sing along to the latest Mumford and Sons track.

Alexandra frowned. Justin could actually sing, and play the guitar, and she thought it was one of the coolest things about him. Actually, she thought her brother in general was pretty cool, so why did he have to be so stupid? “But why do you have to date someone from my school?” she demanded. “Like, are there not enough girls at UBC? Besides, don't you feel like a pedo?”

“Not particularly, no,” Justin said dryly. “Look, I'm sorry, but you're overreacting. And she's only two years younger than me. Not even, a year and a half.”

Alexandra leaned back in her chair, the better to sulk.

Justin sighed. “Look, Alexandra, just give it up, please? Could you once, just once, act like the world doesn't revolve around you? I really like her, okay? I don't want you being dramatic and difficult to ruin this.” He looked over at her, giving her his best guilt-inducing expression.

Alexandra sighed. “Okay. Fine. But it won't last, she's horrible.” They drove the rest of the way listening to the music and not talking.

Alexandra hopped out of the car and ran to the house, knocking on the door. “Hi, Mr. Yu,” she said as he answered the door.

He stared down at her, confused. “What you want?”

“Is Julian here?”

“Julian!” Mr. Yu shouted back into the house. Julian hurried out. “Lexi wants you.” Mr. Yu crossed his arms, waiting to hear what Alexandra wanted.

“Uh, I'm going to go over to her house for dinner,” Julian explained awkwardly. “Okay?”

“Okay? Mrs. Yu has already made dinner. You no eat here, okay, but you tell us!”

“Sorry, Mr. Yu,” Alexandra said. “That's my fault, I invited him late.”

“Your fault? Okay, okay.” Julian quickly put on his shoes and followed Alexandra out to Justin's car. Alexandra could feel Mr. Yu watching them curiously from the doorway.

Julian got in the back, and as soon as they had started to drive, he turned to Justin. “What's this about you dating Anna?”

“I am,” Justin said firmly.

“Oh, cool.” Julian relaxed back in his seat. “Love this radio station.”

“Me, too,” Justin agreed. They drove back to the Dunstan home.

As soon as they entered the house, Justin ditched them to go get changed, and Alexandra and Julian were left awkwardly looking at each other. “Uh — want to come up to my room?”

“Sure.” Julian shrugged. They walked up the stairs and Alexandra pushed open the door of her room. “Holy frickin' crap!” Julian stepped into her room and began to turn around, trying to absorb what he saw.

“What?” asked Alexandra, worried by his shock.

“I have never seen so many ballet posters in my life!” Julian stepped up onto her bed without asking in order to get a better look at the posters. “Geez. Polina Semionova, Natalia Osipova and Ivan Vasiliev (I really like this one!), Bridgett Zehr, Irina Dvorovenko?”

Alexandra nodded. “Yup.”

“Daniil Simkin, Tetsuya Kumakawa, Alina Cojocaru …” Julian fell to the bed, giving up. “Too many.”

“Since when do you know names of famous ballet dancers?” Alexandra asked, surprised. “You never seemed to know who anyone was before.”

Julian shrugged. “Um, I've been reading Theresa Bachman's autobiography and she talks about a lot of other famous dancers. Plus, I guess I figured I should start learning who these people are, right? But I'm not sure I want them all up on my wall.”

“Well, what
do
you have up on your wall?” Alexandra asked defensively.

Julian thought. “Stuff. A few ballet posters. But, like, a lot of different stuff.”

“Well, I like my posters.” Alexandra turned to her dresser and began to fix her eyeliner.

Julian looked around, trying to digest the room. “It's so clean.”

Alexandra grimaced. “Does that mean yours isn't?”

“Uh —” Julian quickly changed the subject. “So, have you done your homework yet?”

“Mostly. I still have some more to finish.” Alexandra reached for her pile of binders and textbooks, and Julian opened up his backpack. They arranged themselves on opposing sides of Alexandra's bed, and Alexandra started to work. Julian stared thoughtfully at his notebook, chewing on his pencil.

“You done the Social Studies assignment?” he asked suddenly.

Alexandra didn't bother looking up. “Yes.”

“Can I look at it?”

“No.”

“I came all the way out here for you, and I still don't know why. Please? I won't copy it; I just want to look at it.”

“Fine!” Alexandra passed it to him.

Julian began reading it, his mouth forming the words as he read.

“Please stop that.”

“Uh, okay …”

“Alexandra, dinnertime!” Beth called from downstairs. Alexandra hopped up, going to the mirror and fixing her hair. “Okay.” She took a deep breath in. “Come on, let's go.”

Julian followed her out of her room, down the hall, to the dining room. Justin and Anna were sitting on the couch, waiting for dinner, and Anna looked up, seeming a bit nervous, as Alexandra and Julian walked into the room.

“What are you doing here, Julian?” Anna said, surprised to see him.

Julian shrugged. “Just hanging out.”

“With Lexi?”

“No, the dog,” Julian said with a straight face, petting the large golden retriever that had just padded into the living room. “Hey boy, good doggy-dog-dog.”

Anna shook her head, confused. “Okay, whatever.”

“Guys, come and eat,” Beth called. They all went into the dining room. Emma was already sitting down, waiting for her dinner and Justin and Alexandra both sat down. Anna went into the kitchen to help Beth bring in the dishes. “Thank you, dear,” Beth said, smiling at her. Justin quickly hopped up from his chair and began to help out, as well. Alexandra heaved a great sigh and rolled her eyes. Julian, who had been standing around, unsure of his role in this drama, sat down next to Alexandra. Emma rested her chin in her hands, staring off into space.

“What's up?” Julian asked Emma.

“Emma, Julian. Julian, my little sister Emma,” Alexandra said in a monotone.

Emma turned to Julian, ignoring her sister. “I got second.”

“Oh,” said Julian. “That's pretty good still. In what?”

“A gymnastics competition. And no, it sucks, because I lost against my best friend, and now we aren't best friends.”

“How come? What happened?”