Bring It On (16 page)

Then Devane stopped. What was she doing? Had she changed her mind? Was she leaving?

Devane turned toward the class. “I just wanted to tell everyone I'm sorry about what I did at the show,” she said, her voice loud and clear. “We all worked on the routine together, and I could have messed it up for all of you.” She looked over at Gina. “I wasn't acting like I was part of a team.”

She finally gets it,
Emerson thought.
She's not just saying the words. She gets it.

Devane turned her gaze to Emerson and looked at her for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Finally she added, “The only reason I didn't screw it up for you is because Emerson covered for me.” It sounded like it was a little hard for her to get the words past her teeth. “You have to be a good dancer to cover like that.”

Emerson blinked. She was starting to think she really had ended up in the Land of Oz. Because Devane had just paid her a compliment. In front of everyone.

Devane needed air. Real outside air. She couldn't stand in the practice room in front of everyone. She bolted. She couldn't even keep her dignity and hold herself to a walk until she was out of the room. She just bolted. Like an embarrassed child. Humiliating. But she couldn't stop running until she reached the sidewalk outside the studio.

Then she took deep, deep breaths, trying to feel, just trying to feel like Devane again. When she did, she realized that Devane felt . . . pretty good. She hadn't planned on giving a speech to the whole group like she had. She was just going to apologize to Gina. But when she'd seen everybody standing there, she realized she really had risked wrecking something that was just as important to all of them as it was to her. Or almost as important. So she had to step up and say what she'd said.

And after she had, she couldn't stand to be in that room one more second. She couldn't make herself beg to be let back in the group. Even though now, she was willing to do her probation time.

“Devane!”

She turned toward the voice and saw Gina hurrying over to her. Cleary Devane wasn't done with her stepping up.
Whatever Gina has to say, you have to listen. You owe her that,
Devane told herself.

“I'm glad I caught you. I wanted to tell you I was really impressed by what you did in there. It took guts.”

Devane's mouth opened, but she couldn't come up with any words. The second time that had happened in a week.
A miracle,
she could imagine Tamal shouting.

“It would have been easier for you to come to me or Maddy when we were alone. To say your piece in front of the whole class—that really showed me something. That you care about the team,” Gina continued. “It showed real growth, Devane.”

“Thank you,” Devane managed to get out.

“You're the kind of person Maddy and I want in the Performance Group,” Gina continued.

All the saliva in Devane's mouth evaporated. The moisture seemed to travel to her palms, which were suddenly sweating.

“And I suspect from the reaction of the class when you walked through the door that they all feel the same way.” Gina gave Devane a long look. “So what do you say, Devane? You'd still be on probation, but you'd be part of the team.”

Devane swallowed hard. “Yes.”

A question popped into Devane's head.
Am I going to be off probation for the Disney World show? Because you
know
you need me for that one.

But she didn't say any of that. She wasn't Tamal-dumb. “Yes,” she told Gina again.

“What are you waiting for?” Gina grinned. “Go get changed for class. Everybody's waiting for you.”

Sammi rushed down the hall after Sophie and Emerson. Sophie and Emerson. Sophie and Emerson. At Hip Hop Kidz it was always Sophie and Emerson. Half the time Sophie acted like she didn't even know Sammi when they were at the dance studio. Forget about that they were sisters.

“Soph!” Sammi grabbed her by the elbow. “I need you.” She turned to Emerson. “You should go ahead and change. I need to talk to my sister about . . . sister stuff.”

“Okay,” Emerson answered. “See you.” She gave them a little wave and continued on toward the locker room.

“What?” Sophie asked, all grouchy. “Emerson and I were talking.”

“I need you to be ill papi,” Sammi said.

“What?” Sophie said again, more loudly.

“I decided that today, I'm taking it up a level with him,” Sammi explained. “I'm going to ask him out. Maybe he's shy—”

“I don't think ill papi is shy,” Sophie interrupted.

“You never know. Some really cute guys are shy. It's like they're unaware of their own cuteness and the power it gives them,” Sammi answered. “Or maybe he's clueless. Maybe he hasn't figured out that I've been trying to get his attention.”

“I don't think ill papi is clueless,” Sophie said.

“Whatever his deal is, asking him out will solve it. If he's shy—he doesn't have to ask me. If he's clueless—this will totally spell it out. If he's a slow mover—this will speed things up.” Sammi had thought all this through last night while soaking in a tub full of Lush Karma bubbles, which were handmade and kind of expensive. So she only used the bubble bar when she had heavy-duty thinking to do.

“You're doing it, so do it,” Sophie said. “I don't see why you need me.”

“I told you, I need you to be ill papi,” Sammi explained. “I need a practice run. We have to do it fast because I want to catch him before he leaves. I'll go insane if I have to wait until next time to ask him. Okay, so you're ill papi.”

“I'm ill papi,” Sophie repeated, her voice flat. Was she trying to sound like him? Because she definitely didn't sound like happy Sophie.

“Hey, ill papi.” Sammi didn't do a hair flip of any degree. Her nightmare had freaked her out too much. “The new Will Ferrell movie is opening this weekend. I can't wait to see it. Do you want to go with me?”

“I don't really like Will Ferrell,” Sophie said.

Good. She was giving Sammi a chance to rehearse some possible negative responses.

“Oh, well, there's lots of other fun stuff out,” Sammi told Sophie slash ill papi. “Are you into action movies? Or horror? I like horror. To me it's like a roller coaster. I like to get all scared but be totally safe.” She did a quick arm touch. She hadn't done an arm touch with ill papi before, but they were good for telling a boy, “I like you.”

Sophie didn't reply. “Come on,” Sammi urged.

“I can't do this,” Sophie said. “I don't know how to think like him. I'll see you in the locker room.”

“Okay.” At least Sophie had helped her get warmed up, Sammi thought. She did an ill papi scan and spotted him heading for the main exit. “Ill papi, wait up!” she cried.

He turned around, and Sammi got to him as fast as she could without breaking out of a walk. “Hey, that new Will Ferrell movie is coming out this weekend. Do you want to go with me?”

“No.”

That was it. Just no.

And ill papi had left the building.

Sammi hadn't even considered that possibility in the bathtub.

Sophie sat in the locker room waiting for Sammi. She used the time to practice her I'm-so-happy-for-you smile. She practiced it so many times that her lips and jaw were starting to ache. Even her teeth hurt. But when Sammi came prancing in there, talking about the big plans she and ill papi had made, Sophie wanted to be able to smile. Sammi was her sister, and Sophie was going to be happy for her. Even if it felt like someone was pulling her fingernails out.

The locker room door swung open. There went a fingernail. Sophie braced herself.

But Sammi had tears in her eyes when she threw herself down on the bench opposite her sister. “What happened?” Sophie cried.

“He said no! Ill papi said no!” Sammi burst out, getting curious looks from some of the other girls. “That's all. Just no. I got one word from him, Soph.”

“That's harsh,” Sophie said. She reached over and grabbed Sammi's hand. But she felt a smile pulling at her lips. Probably just because she'd been doing so much smile practice.

Or maybe because it felt kind of fair somehow. Sammi already had the Hip Hop Kidz Performance Group—at least she was getting really close, with Devane not being able to perform right now. Did she have to have
everything
Sophie wanted?

Emerson leaned over and let her hair fall over her face, then started to brush it out. The simple motion felt good after the hard workout of class.

“Hey, Blondie.”

Emerson straightened up, flipping back her hair. She found Devane standing in front of her. No surprise. No one else called her Blondie. Or Ballerina.

“I'm glad it worked out with Gina,” Emerson said. And she was. Sort of. But class would always have more tension in it with Devane around.

“I wanted to give you a separate apology,” Devane said in a rush.

“That's okay. You kind of already did,” Emerson told her.

“Not about the solo thing. About what I said to you that first day. That you weren't in the right place,” Devane explained. “Remember?”

Emerson definitely remembered. She'd been feeling out of place anyway. She'd only been in class a few months. She hardly talked to anyone—just Sophie—and back then she hardly even knew Sophie. And she was much more a ballet dancer than a b-girl. What Devane had said had been like a slap. “I remember,” was all she said.

“I remember, too!” Sophie came around the corner and joined in the conversation. “I figured you were just trying to psych out the competition before the non-audition audition. I kept waiting for you to tell me my puppy had just died or something. But you didn't say anything to me. I was insulted. I guess you didn't think I was good enough to bother playing head games with.”

Devane and Emerson laughed.

“Well, anyway, I was wrong,” Devane told Emerson. “You pretty much kept up with me at the show. And if you didn't belong here, you wouldn't have been able to do that.”

Emerson smiled. Devane was definitely still a little bit of a diva. “Thanks, I guess.”

Max's head appeared over the top of the row of lockers. She had to be part spider. She could climb anything. “Hey, you guys, we're meeting for pizza on the corner.” Her head disappeared.

“Do you think that means I'm invited?” Emerson asked Sophie.

“Absolutely,” Sophie said.

“Do you want to go, Soph?” Sammi called from the bathroom. “Dad's going to be a little late picking us up anyway.”

“Sure.” She looked at Devane. “You coming?”