Bring It On (15 page)

Devane usually loved being on her own in the apartment. No Tamal to pluck her nerves. But today it felt too quiet.

She flipped on the TV. Three different judges on three different channels telling fools how big of fools they were. Dr. Phil saying,
“What are you thinkin'?”
Cartoons. Shopping. She turned the TV off. None of that was going to hold her attention.

What Devane needed to do was take herself into her room and rework her calendar. Hip Hop Kidz wasn't the only way to cash, cars, and world domination. She just needed to figure out a new plan, rework the timetable a little. Maybe she could even find a faster way to the top.

Except that Disney World show really would have helped.

“Get your behind off this couch, get in there, and do what has to be done,” she said out loud, talking to herself like she was Tamal. She responded the way Tamal would, too. She slunk deeper into the couch and turned the TV back on.

She'd just started getting the rundown on a case about two bad neighbors and one bad dog when the doorbell rang. Probably one of Tamal's friends looking for him. Devane stood up, walked over to the door, and peered through the peephole.

Huh-uh. She was not seeing what she was seeing. The ballerina stood out there. In Devane's hallway. Where Ms. Hackie had left her cat's full litter box. Nasty.

Devane didn't want Emerson in her apartment. Devane and her mother had watched a million decorating shows and done as much as they could to fix it up. But it was still one tiny place for three people. Devane's mom didn't even have a bedroom. She had to fold out the couch every night and sleep on it.

The doorbell rang again. The girl wasn't giving up. And Devane really didn't want her spending more time in the hall. With that thin, curling wallpaper that always reminded Devane of skin that was just about to peel off.

“I guess you want to come in,” Devane said as she pulled open the door. She stepped back so Emerson could pass her. “Have you instructed your chauffeur to come to your rescue if you're not downstairs in five minutes? You know Overtown is dangerous. You hear about it every night on the news, am I right?”

Emerson sat down on the couch, looked Devane in the eye, and said, “Everyone in the group wants you to come back.” She cleared her throat.

“Well, that's too bad. I quit that mess,” Devane said.
I knew it,
she thought
. I knew they needed me.

Emerson shook her head. “You've got so many stories. You told me you were out. You tried to make me think you got
kicked
out because I got upset about the solo thing. Now you're telling me you quit. But you're leaving out the part where you quit because you were too proud to take probation, which you totally deserved.”

“The crowd loved—” Devane began.

Emerson held up one hand. “I don't want to do this again,” she said. “Here's the deal. We all want you to come back, like I said. But we're not sure if Maddy and Gina will even let you now. We figure the only chance you have is to apologize to them and tell them you're willing to do the probation. It's not like it will be forever.”

Devane opened her mouth, but she didn't know what to say. That
never
happened.

“I'll back you up,” Emerson added. “I'll tell them
I
want you there. And if I want you there, it has to be cool with everyone else, right?”

Get her.

“Thanks for being willing to do me such a huge favor,” Devane snapped. “I wouldn't need your help getting back into the group if you'd kept your mouth shut in the first place, remember? I'd still be in.”

“Have you told yourself that so many times you really believe it?” Emerson asked. “Do you just think because what you did when you changed the choreography was amazing and the crowd loved it that Gina and Maddy wouldn't care? Don't you remember that day in class when you did little things—like that cross-legged flare when Gina told us to do a single? She wasn't happy about it.
I
didn't yell at you that day, and she was still mad at you.”

“Do you want some water?” Devane asked. She wanted some water. “It comes out of the sink. You've probably never tasted that kind before,” she added.

“No, I've said what I have to say.” Emerson stood up. “I'm not going to beg you. I know you don't like me. I don't especially like you, either. But we all want you in the group. You're one of the best dancers.”

“One of?” Devane asked automatically, her mind still on that day in class, on how Gina made her stay after to lecture her about not being a team player.

“All you have to do is swallow your pride and apologize and just take the probation,” Emerson said as she headed to the door.

Devane shook her head. “You just said I'm one of the best dancers. That means I deserved a solo. I was trying to take some of what was mine.” She shook her head again. Too many thoughts were rising up. Pricking at her. “I don't need the group to get what I want. I can do it on my own.”

Emerson turned back to face her. “That's your whole problem. You want to do everything on your own. You want one big solo. You're a diva, even though you say you aren't.”

“And proud of it,” Devane told her.

“Well, Gina and Maddy don't want divas. They want team players,” Emerson said, voice calm, her blue eyes serious. “And I'm offering to be on your team. Everyone else is, too. So what are you going to do about it?”

Two days later the same judges were talking to the same—well, almost the same—messed-up people. Dr. Phil was still yelling,
“What are you thinkin'?”
Devane was still on the couch.

Tamal walked past her, heading for the front door. “Where are
you
going?” she asked.

“Pickup basketball,” he answered.

“Does Mom know? You're not supposed to just go roaming around.”

Tamal turned around and stared at her. “I've been going every day this summer, so yeah, I think she knows. If it's any of your business.”

Devane stood up. “Maybe I'll watch. It wouldn't hurt for somebody to make sure you go where you say you go.”

Tamal put his hands on his hips. “Uh, na-nay-no,” he said in a high voice. As if that sounded like her.

“You don't tell me where I can and can't go,” Devane told him, keeping on her feet.

“Come on. No one's big sister watches them play,” Tamal said. “And it's not on your calendar. Your three-year plan won't work out if you go. Or is the three-year plan flushed now?”

“No!” Devane told him. “I just have to revise it. I was thinking of making it a two-year plan. I don't think it should take three.”

“All right. So, see, you don't have any time to waste watching b-ball. You have to revise or whatever.” Tamal hurried out of the apartment and slammed the door. The boy always slammed the door. And he never remembered to lock it.

Devane sighed and started across the room. Her mother came through the door before Devane could reach it, the handles of several plastic grocery bags looped over each wrist. “Let me get some of those.” Devane slid the bags off her mother's right hand.

“Thanks, boo.” Her mother dumped her bags on the narrow kitchen counter. “I passed your brother on the stairs. He warned me that you were in a stinky mood, he called it, and that you've been in a stinky mood for days.”

“I told him not to eat with his mouth open. Do you call that stinky?” Devane muttered. She put her bags on the counter and started to unload them. But the silence in the room started to feel like a weight pressing down on her. Why wasn't her mother talking? Why didn't she ask Devane something?

“I don't understand why that girl Emerson would come over here the other day supposedly trying to help me when I busted in on her solo,” Devane burst out, just to break the quiet. She couldn't breathe in all that quiet. “I wouldn't have done that. If she'd grabbed part of my solo, I'd have pulled out all her hair.”

Devane's mother raised her eyebrows. “So you're saying her mama just raised her better than I raised you?”

“Well, I'd have wanted to pull her hair out,” Devane corrected. “There's no way ballerina girl would really back me if I showed up at class and apologized. No one is that pure.”

“Have you been studying mind reading during all that free time you've had now that you're not dancing?” her mother asked, putting three cans of Tamal's beloved SpaghettiOs in the cupboard.

Clearly her mother was on Emerson's side. Didn't she know that mothers were supposed to back the daughters? Always.

“But what if I go down there and she just laughs at me? What if she's just playing me? Trying to get some payback?” Devane asked. Even though it
was
hard to imagine Emerson doing that. She'd sounded so dead serious about the whole team thing. And Devane knew the girl wasn't that talented an actress.

“There are worse things than being laughed at,” her mother said. Why couldn't her mama ever just say, “
Oh, poor baby, you just stay right here with me. I don't want you to get hurt”
?

Devane looked at the clock. It was just a little past the time she'd usually be leaving for class. “I'd usually be leaving for class right about now,” she said.

Her mother kept on unpacking groceries. The silence started pushing down on Devane again.

“Maybe I'll go down there.” Devane wadded one of the empty plastic bags into a ball.

Her mother didn't say, “I think you should,” or, “No, I won't allow it.” There was just that silence.

“Would that be all right?” Devane asked.

Her mother smiled. “I think that would be very all right.”

M.J., Fridge, and Max stared at Emerson as she walked into class. But it wasn't a bad kind of staring. A little intense, but not bad. “What did she say?” M.J. asked.

“Wait. Wait. Wait, wait, wait. I want to hear this, too!” Sophie called, rushing into the room with Sammi. Sophie immediately hurried over to Emerson and bumped shoulders with her. Emerson noticed that Sammi was watching the two of them, and she looked a little hurt.

“I went over there and—”

“You should wait a few minutes more,” Sophie said. “You're just going to have to repeat everything when everyone else gets here.”

“So what?” Max exclaimed. “We need to know now.” She gave a little hop. Like an exclamation point. “If you don't want to repeat everything, I'll do it for you.”

“There's not that much to repeat,” Emerson said. “I went over there, and I told her what we all decided I'd tell her—that we wanted her back in the group and that we thought if she apologized to Gina and Maddy and agreed to take the probation, they'd let her.”

“What did she say?” ill papi asked as he and Chloe joined the group.

“She basically said that she didn't need the group and that she was proud to be a diva,” Emerson admitted.

Chloe snorted. “Of course she did.”

“Maybe I didn't say the right thing—” Emerson began.

“She probably expected you to come over with offerings of little dog coats and M&M's with the green ones picked out. She probably expected you to beg her,” Sophie said.

Emerson wasn't sure. Devane talked big. But there was something a little I-am-the-great-and-powerful-Oz about the whole conversation. Like maybe the real Devane was hiding somewhere behind all the I-am-the-great-and-powerful-diva stuff.

“So now what do we do?” M.J. asked.

“I don't think there's anything else we can do,” Emerson admitted.
Unless I can find a little Toto dog to rip away the curtain so I can talk to the real Devane. If there is one,
she thought.

“What'd she say?” Becca asked as soon as she came through the door. She was wearing a shirt with a big sheep on it that said, “Ewe aren't fat. Ewe are fluffy.”

Emerson gave her short report again. Then once more when Ky showed up, dribbling his basketball, with the twins and Rachel right behind him. She had to stop herself from automatically launching into the spiel when Gina entered.

“I want to remind you all of what I said last time. No goofing around,” Gina immediately called out. She shot a look at Sophie. “I want focus. If I don't get it, I'm sending people home. I want no interruptions.”

But five minutes later, she got one. A big one.

Devane walked into the room, and everyone stopped dancing. Gina looked ready to order them all out—forever. Then she turned around and saw Devane, too.

Devane started toward Gina. Emerson's breath caught in her chest. What if all of them were wrong? What if an apology wasn't good enough for Gina? What if she yelled at Devane?