My Seventh-Grade Life in Tights (15 page)

I may have been in a situation that had
suck
written all over it. But whining about it wouldn’t help. It was time to ignore the big fat
what if?
that was hovering around my head everywhere I went. That door to dance awesomeness was still open.

It was time to either walk inside or close it for good.

A
s soon as I got out of bed, I sent everyone a group text.

When Mom dropped me off at school, Kassie was already there on the sidewalk, hugging her arms to her. It was pretty cold, but I wasn’t feeling the wind’s bite. Everything from my neck down had gone numb from my decision. But it had to be done.

“I heard you all won last night,” Kassie said, her face buried in the shadows of her hood.

“Um, yeah. Twenty-one to three. Do you know if the others are here?”

“Not yet.”

“Okay, then before they show up—” A wispy cloud formed in front of my face as I exhaled. “What’s the real reason you don’t want to dance at that competition?”

She pulled her arms even tighter around her chest. “I already told you it doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does, Kass!” A few of the other students rubbernecked as they went by. I turned my head away, as if that’d do any good.

Kassie shivered. I bobbed on my toes a little closer to her, finally starting to feel the air trying to freeze my body. She let out a long breath. “You know how I told you about that solo my teachers gave Sarah? Well—that’s sort of only half true.”

I sniffed. My nose was numb, but the cold air was like a pair of icicles getting shoved up my nostrils. “So what happened?”

“My teacher did want Sarah to audition for it. And she actually did turn it down. But when it was my turn to dance for it—” Kassie lowered her head and her eyes disappeared in the shadows of her hoodie. “I choked. Like, epically.”

“And they didn’t give you another chance? That’s so stupid.”

“That’s the thing. They did. When my dad finally convinced me to try, it was too late. They’d already made their decision.”

She squeezed her shoulders together like she was trying to shrink. I’d never heard Kassie admit she was scared of anything. Especially dancing.

“I’ll never forgive Sarah for taking it. Especially after she promised me she wouldn’t. And I know I messed up the steps, but it wasn’t all my fault. They threw the choreography at me and expected me to just force it to fit. I tried it their way and it ruined my shot at nationals.”

“But don’t you want another chance? To show them you
can
dance?”

Kassie shook her head. “I can’t dance in front of them. Not after I let those people beat me like that. Not after I let
her
beat me like that.” Our eyes met for a second, but she looked away like she was humiliated.

A car pulled up and Carson jumped out. He walked over to us, his dad waving at us as he drove off. “Couldn’t we have met next to a heater or something?”

“I figured you’d already be here.”

“What’s going on? Your text was a little—” Carson wrenched his face up in worried mode.

Kassie covered her face with her hands and groaned. “I don’t know. Maybe this is stupid.”

“What’s stupid?” Carson asked.

“This plan. Me. This whole thing.”

Carson held his hands up. “Whoa, hold on. Are you serious?”

“I don’t
know,
Carson! Maybe?”

“Does that mean we’re all going to dance instead?”

“No!” Kassie blurted out. “I still can’t do that.”

Carson let out a quick breath that sounded like a cross between a sigh and a growl. “Is this what the meeting was about? And are we finished? Because I’m dying out here.” He blew into his hands like it was the coldest October in the history of Sunnydale.

“No,” I said. “But I want to wait for Austin.”

“Um, I wouldn’t count on him showing up. Not after the other day.”

I looked around for his mom’s car, but Carson was right. “Okay. Fine. The reason I texted you guys—” I wiped my nose, pretending it was running. I just needed time to figure out how to say what I was there to say.

“Oh my gosh, Dillon, get on with it,” Carson said.

“Sorry. Okay. The reason. I, um, got an email. And it said I made it into the top three for the scholarship.”

Carson sucked in a gulp of air, clamping a hand over his mouth. Kassie didn’t look as shocked. But she didn’t look mad, either. Her eyes were huge, practically shaking in their sockets. I’d never seen her look so worried.

“So—what are you going to do?” she asked.

I chewed on my lip and immediately thought of what Mom had told me about gum. To pick the kind that makes you happiest. The only problem was, Kassie made me the happiest. Carson and Austin made me the happiest. But happy wasn’t going to get me noticed by choreographers. Happy wasn’t going to turn me into a real dancer.

So maybe happy wasn’t what I needed.

“I’m…”

Fast, Dillon,
I told myself.
Like a Band-Aid.

“I’m gonna keep competing.”

I stared at Kassie, waiting for her to say something. Anything. Then she looked out past the parking lot, her lips pressing into a hard line.

I wanted to reach out and touch her hand. To show her nothing had changed. That all I wanted was to get better. But I’d tried all that stuff before and it never seemed to work. “I swear I still want to be a part of the Dizzee—”

“Is that your final decision, then?” she asked. The icy look on her face made the wind around me feel like a warm breeze.

My heart lurched in my chest. Like it was sending out a Morse code message to my brain.

Don’t. Say. Yes.

But I had to. And I did.

She snapped her hood back and turned to walk up the steps. Carson’s face was still frozen in shock. But he managed to move. He raced up after her. “Kass, hold on!”

She stopped, listening to him. I couldn’t hear everything, but I caught pieces of it.

“…can’t stand Sarah, but…”

“…maybe he deserves…”

“…still your friend…”

I made a quick mental note to hug Carson the next time I had a chance. Kassie was going to turn around, nod, and say,
You’re right. He does deserve it. And who cares if he goes to the Studio of Evil for three weeks? He’ll still be our Kung Fu Kid when he comes back!

And then I’d run up the stairs and hug her, too, and it wouldn’t make me nervous because she’d be hugging me back. Then our eyes would lock and we’d stare at each other for a second and maybe we’d—

I blinked my eyes really fast. Kassie was staring at me like she was waiting for me to say something. Then I realized
she
had said something and I’d totally missed it.

I shook my head really fast. “I didn’t hear what you said.”

“I said you broke your promise! You had a choice and you chose Dance-Splosion.” She spat out the name like it was a cussword.

Before I could say a thing, she was gone. Carson took a step after her, then stopped. He stomped down the steps, yanking his collar up over his neck. “I won’t lie, Dillon. I’m like eighty percent mad you’d want to dance at the same place that Kassie hates. But I’m also like twenty percent proud of you.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

“So, is this it? Are you quitting the crew?”

“No! Not if I can help it, anyway. Maybe you could talk to her for me. I would, but I’m pretty sure it’d just make her madder.”

“I’ll try. But I’m not making any promises.”

“Also, could you maybe talk to Austin? Tell him I still want to do the movie?”

Carson shrugged. “Again, no promises. I’ll see you later, Dillon.” He sped up the steps and headed inside.

The rest of the day, I was in a trance. My classes were a blur. Lunch was a fog.

But that Saturday without my crew—the first practice I’d ever missed—was the wake-up alarm I didn’t want to hear.

And it wouldn’t stop blaring the message
Rise and shine, Dillon Parker, loser of friends! You wanted to go solo, so get used to it!

C
ARTER ACA
DUMMY
IS SHARK FOOD!

That was the worst one.

Our homecoming game, the last one of the season, was on Thursday, and the cheerleaders had lined the halls with posters that said things like
SQUASH THE SPARTANS!
or
TAKE A BITE OUT OF CARTER!

No wonder so many football players were mean. They had to walk around all day looking at bad one-liners.

Every time I saw myself in the bathroom mirror, I had this goofy, twisted-up expression on my face like it was hurting me to think. Maybe because it was. My decision was crawling around in my head, trying to find the perfect spot to fit.

I followed Kassie out of the cafeteria after lunch one day, just to get a chance to see her. But then I felt like a stalker and turned around. Especially since she’d been heading to the bathroom at the time.

Coach Bear canceled Wednesday’s practice to give everyone a chance to rest before the big game. Sarah decided since there was no way I’d ever get to play, I didn’t need any rest. So she tacked on an extra private lesson. We ran through the entire routine three times without her screaming at me. The moves were actually starting to feel a lot better, but the more I did them, the more I missed my style.

Even if it
was
made-up.

“The finalist auditions are this Saturday and your spins still suck,” Sarah said. “You’re not spotting.”

I threw my hands up in the air, frustrated. “Why do you always do that?”

“What?”

“Saying some dance word like I should know what it is. I wasn’t born in a studio, you know.”

Sarah planted her hands on her hips. “Who peed in your Cheerios this morning?”

I guessed that would’ve been me. Great.

I was Dillon Parker, the guy who peed in his own cereal.

“Hey, wake up,” Sarah said, snapping her fingers. “I’m trying to teach you how to spot. Now watch.”

She flew into a pirouette. It reminded me of Kassie. Then she stopped, still as a statue, with no sign of dizziness.

“You can’t just let momentum do all the work. You have to control it. Before you turn, focus on one point on the opposite wall. Then whip your head around to find the spot again. Try it.”

I picked out a poster of a baseball player on the opposite side of the gym. I pulled my arms to the side and spun. Spotting wasn’t too hard, but I still fell to the side and nearly landed on my face.

“Suck in your stomach while you turn. Keep your core tight.”

That made it easier, but then I tripped over my own foot when I tried to stop.

“Did they let you get to green belt out of pity?” Sarah asked. She walked over to me and slammed her hand on my gut. “Keep this tight.” Then she put her hands on my head and turned it so hard I thought she was trying to break my neck. “Turn this fast. Find your mark.”

“Ow, geez. Do you have to be so rough?”

“I’m not—” She put her hands on either side of her face and growled. “It’s just we have to get this right. I’m not going to let you get there and embarrass me in front of everyone.”

“You mean you’ll be watching me?”

“No. They’re keeping this whole thing all secretive. Probably because it’s the first year they’ve done it. But trust me, if you mess up, it’ll come back to me. I know people, Dillon.”

“Yeah, I bet. Don’t worry, I won’t give you a reason to go behind my back, too.”

“What?” she said, looking genuinely shocked. “I didn’t—”

“You can stop pretending, Sarah. Kassie told me everything.”

Sarah jabbed a thumb into her chest. “
I’m
not the one who went behind her back, Dillon. I don’t care what she told you!”

“Whatever, Sarah. You knew she wanted that solo more than anything. Were you expecting her to mess up the first time so you could jump in and steal it from her?”

“That wasn’t me! That was—” Sarah’s face was red. But not mad. This was shame. I’d felt enough of it to know. “I don’t have to explain it to you.”

I crossed my arms. My stubborn pose. I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for her to say, really. I knew everything that had happened. And it wasn’t like an apology would do any good, either.