Selfish Elf Wish (15 page)

“Cue music,” Mr. Padgett yells through the bullhorn, and this time, instead of lovey-dovey giggles, the intro music actually comes through the speakers. I lift my arms in a high V over my head and get ready to step forward with my left foot at the top of the second measure of music, but then I see Bella reach out and grab Timber’s hand. Not only do I miss the beat, but I stumble over my own feet while trying to see over Chelsea’s stupid long arms in front of me. Everyone steps left on the downbeat and I fall on my butt.

“Cut! Cut! Cut!” Mr. Padgett yells. “For God’s sake, the first step? Who’s back there?” He shades his eyes and everyone onstage turns around to stare as I scramble back to my feet.

“Sorry!” I squeak. “My shoe was untied.” I quickly drop down and pretend to retie my already knotted laces. Mr. Padgett sighs through the bullhorn so that his disappointment resonates over the stage and lands on me like a heavy cloak. “I’m ready now,” I call out, but really I wish I had clunked my head on the floor and knocked myself out when I fell down. This would be so much better if I were in a coma.

“Take your marks, people,” Mr. Padgett yells again.

Chelsea looks over her shoulder at me. “Try double knots,” she says sarcastically.

“Very funny,” I say, and this time I don’t flinch when Bella takes Timber’s hand.

We start the number over again and I’m doing fine. Despite the fact that I think Padgie is a putz, I have to admit that I like doing this song. It’s when we all introduce ourselves as the contestants in the reality show. My character is Sadie, a sweet farm girl from Indiana who made it on the show singing country songs. Every time it’s my turn to sing, I have to step up, put my thumbs in my belt loops and sing, “I’m a little bit country!” Then Levi slides up beside me and sings, “And I’m a little bit rock and roll!” which, for some reason, is supposed to be funny.

Mercedes is Charlie, a spunky girl from a rough neighborhood in Los Angeles. Ben is a guy named Johnny from the ’burbs, and he has to choose between music and pitching for his high-school baseball team in a championship game. Nora plays a nerdy violin prodigy who finally lets her hair down. Omar is the guy version of that, only he’s really good at math. Kwan and Timber are supposed to have some big rivalry, and Kwan plays dirty, hiring a thug to whack Timber in the kneecap, only it backfires and Kwan gets kicked off the show. (That’s also supposed to be funny because some ice skater from a long time ago named Tonya Harding tried to whack another skater. But again, lost on me. This time it was okay because Mercedes admitted she had no idea what Padgie was talking about with that one either. He told us not to worry about it, that our parents would think it’s funny, only obviously he doesn’t know my parents!) Chelsea is called Lacy, the rich girl whose daddy buys her voice lessons and pays the judges to let her in. She’s supposed to be the favorite to win, except, and here’s the big surprise (not) Bella plays the sweet underdog named Maggie who wins everything—including the heart of Timber’s character (gag me very much).

We end the first number with the guys down on one leg and the girls sitting on their other knee. We girls kick up our left legs and wrap our right arms around our partner’s neck. I have to wrench my head around to see Bella perched on Timber’s leg. She’s sitting right on his thigh with her cheek pressed against his face.

I hate that girl. I hate her I hate her I hate her! But I don’t have time to dwell on how much I despise her because the music changes and we’re all scrambling to our marks for the next song, which has Mercedes’s big solo in it.

The third song is the final number of act one. This is when things heat up between Timber and Kwan because they’re both in love with Bella/Maggie. Chelsea, Mercedes, Levi, Ben, and I circle around Kwan and Timber, who stand on either side of Bella. Mercedes explained that this song is a medley and Ari downloaded all the originals for me. “She’s my girl,” Kwan sings and grabs Bella’s left arm. “She’s the one that I want,” Timber sings back and puts his hand on her right arm while Bella sings, “Torn between two lovers,” with her arms stretched wide between them. The rest of us line up, Chelsea and Ben on Timber’s side, Levi and me on Kwan’s, with Mercedes behind Bella. We grab and pull, yanking the three of them apart. Just like we practiced Levi, Kwan, and I tumble to the ground in a pile stage left.

This is supposed to be the end of the scene. Or at least this is the way the supporting cast rehearsed it with Ms. Ram, but instead of everyone freezing, soft music comes back in. I peek out from the tangle of arms and legs on top of me to see Bella and Timber walking toward one another center stage. They look into each other’s eyes and circle one another. Bella sings, “This love I have inside.” She reaches out. Timber lays his hand on Bella’s cheek and sings, “And I’ll give it all to you.” She looks up at him with hungry, wanting eyes. She takes his wrist in her hand and puts her other hand behind his head. He cups the small of her back and pulls her close. “My endless love,” they sing together, and then, horror of all horrors, they KISS!

THE ONLY THING
that keeps me from tracking Bella down and zapping her into a dust mite after that kiss is Briar. She rushes to the stage as soon as the rehearsal is over. “Come on,” she says, reaching for me. “Let’s get out of here.”

“No, let’s find her. Let’s zap her.”

Briar massages my shoulders. “You’re upset,” she says. “But you need to walk away.”

“Why?” I ask. “You’re the one who’s always telling me to use what I’ve got.”

“I know,” she whispers. “But not now. Not here.” She motions to all the other cast members milling around, except for Timber, who’s nowhere to be seen. “You’re too mad. Your magic will be too strong. Besides, we’ll get her later. Maybe I could drop a light on her head or something.”

Kenji comes backstage and says, “Easy there, Phantom.”

“Phantom?” says Briar. “Who’s a ghost?”

“Dropping lights on people is what the Phantom of the Opera does,” Kenji explains.

“Well, I’ve got to do something!” I say. “Or I’m going to explode.”

“Let’s go to the park to dance,” Briar says quickly. “Blow off some steam.”

I sigh. “Fine, but so help me, if I see her face ...”

 

Kenji, Briar, and I take the train back to Park Slope. Despite the fact that she just bailed me out, Briar is bugging the bejeezus out of me. She sits on Kenji’s lap and plays with his hair while he stares at her and they both ignore me. And she’s annoying when we get off the train because she and Kenji amble up the stairs tangled together like a four-legged, two-headed, lovelorn yeti. Not to mention how annoying it is going into the park with them because they have to stop every five feet to say really stupid stuff to each other like, “You’re my little sushi roll, I’m going to gobble you up” and “You’re my sweet butterscotch blondie, I want to nibble you to pieces.” Mostly I’ve learned to ignore them, but sometimes I want to smack them. Like right now when they lean against a tree and Kenji attaches himself to Briar’s face as if he’s a sucker fish and she’s the bottom of a tank. I can’t take it anymore, so I scoop up a handful of snow. I take my time forming it into a ball, patting it smooth on all sides. I add a little more snow. Then I aim it and throw, splatting them right where their cheeks meet.

“Hey!” Briar says, wiping snow from her face. “What’s your problem?”

“Are you cold?” Kenji asks, pressing his scarf against Briar’s cheek. “Do you want me to kiss it? Your cheek is turning red.”

“It’s the only way I can get your attention,” I say, swallowing my smile. Then I turn and point across the field at a crowd of people. “Looks like someone took our spot.”

Briar shrugs. “No big deal. We can dance somewhere else.”

We’re just about to head into a different meadow when someone from the group shouts, “There they are!”

Everyone turns around and waves to us. Briar and I look at each other, confused.

“Do you know them?” Kenji asks.

“I don’t think so,” I say slowly. “Do you?”

Briar shakes her head, but I can see one of her mischievous grins starting to bloom as she walks toward the waving group. “Let’s go see who it is.”

As we get closer to the group, I realize it’s bigger than I thought. About a dozen people, mostly men, stand around. I recognize a few of them from the past few days when we’ve come here to dance. A tall guy with short, curly brown hair and glasses. A short round guy in a light blue parka. An old guy walking a beagle. The crowd parts as we near to reveal our circle. All around the edges fresh snow has fallen, but our space is a perfectly matted circle of grass.

“Thanks,” Briar says to the guys. “You kept our circle safe.”

I stop at the edge of the crowd. I don’t mind a few people coming by to see what we’re doing, but this feels strange to me. Like we’re performing, but that’s not why I want to do this. I want to do it for me. To forget what’s bugging me and to feel free because when I dance out here with Briar I don’t have to worry if I’m better or worse than anyone else or if I’m getting the steps right. There are no wrong steps. I just do whatever my body wants me to do.

“
Sha we no, hallenschor, um triden fayre la dolly
,” says the tall guy, then he bows.

Briar laughs. “Hey, how’d you know that?”

“That’s what you say,” he tells us, his eyes wide behind the thick lenses of his glasses. “
For maden kling um schaden flang, um triden fayre la dolly
.”

“That’s right,” Briar says as she lays down her book bag and unzips her jacket. “You’ve been paying attention.” The guy blushes deeply and looks down at the snow, smiling. “Come on, Zeph,” Briar says, stepping into the clear circle in the middle of the trampled snow.

Everyone turns to look at me and I shrink back. “I don’t really want to.”

“Come on,” Briar whines. “Don’t be a baby. It’s so much fun.”

“We’d really like to see you dance, miss,” the man in the blue parka says politely.

Briar holds her hand out to me. She nods, grinning, her eyebrow twitching. All I can think is that I wish Timber were here. I wish I could dance for him and that he would feel about me the way Kenji feels about Briar. Doing this for anyone else feels creepy.

“
Sha we no, hallenschor, um triden fayre la dolly
,” the curly hair guy whispers. A few other guys join in. “
For maden kling um schaden flang, um triden fayre la dolly
.” They say it again, this time more of them joining in. Their voices are low murmurs, swirling together over the quiet snow as they repeat the words. Briar claps to the rhythm of their chanting and I feel a swelling in my chest. My arms and legs want to move. I can’t really explain it, but despite my misgivings, I lay my bag down, unzip my coat, and let their words lead me into the circle.

Briar and I stand facing each other. She smiles at me and nods. We both close our eyes, take a deep breath, then, when we’re ready, we open our eyes and start the dance.

I can’t totally describe what happens when we dance, because in some ways it’s as if time bends and twists. I can see the faces I pass as we twirl around the circle’s edge, but I couldn’t tell you how many times I pass them. I know the sun slowly sinks and early stars peek out, but I have no idea how long that takes—fifteen minutes or two hours, I couldn’t say. At some point, my arms and legs start to feel tired, my body wants to slow down. The crowd around us matches their chanting to the slowing pace of our bodies. And then we’re done, standing across from each other again, exactly how we started, only I’m warm instead of cold, happy instead of annoyed, and calm instead of worried. Briar and I bow to each other, then turn to bow to the people surrounding us as they clap.

When we step out of the circle, we’re each immediately encircled by smaller, tighter groups. People shove business cards and envelopes at me. Someone hands me a bouquet of pink roses. Another person gives me a small wrapped box. They’re all talking at once.

“We could put it on the Web and ...”

“. . . they’re all nice guys, it’s just a bachelor party ...”

“I represent lots of models ...”

“. . . off-Broadway for now, but I think it could go big if ...”

“... the two of you could be famous ...”

“Thanks. Thank you. Thanks so much,” I say, pushing my way out of the knot of people. I hate this feeling of being mobbed, and I want to run across the open meadow until I hit the tree line so I can disappear. I stand on tiptoe to find Briar. She’s still in the midst of her crowd, taking time to speak to every person around her. Offering her hand. Looking into their eyes. Accepting cards and gifts and bouquets of flowers with a huge smile. When I finally break free from the group to swipe my bag and jacket off the ground, I find Clay and Dawn waiting for me.

“Wow,” says Dawn. “Wow! Wow! Wow!” She has her hands pushed down in the pockets of her long, white coat.

Clay slinks toward me, a sly grin showing beneath the shadow of his white knit hat. “Briar told us your dance was good, but Dawn’s right. Wow!”

I narrow my eyes. “Briar told you to come today?”

“Sure,” says Clay. “And she was right. That’s some following you girls have there.”

I shake my head, furious with Briar. This was why she was in such a hurry to get me out of rehearsal.

“What do you call that dance?” Dawn asks.

I toss all the stuff in my arms to the ground beside my bag so I can slip into my coat. “It’s just a dance,” I grouse at them. “Something my grandma taught us. It doesn’t have a name.”

“Well, those guys love it,” Clay says, stepping closer to me. “You’ve got them pretty riled up.” He’s nearly in my face, but if I step back I’ll bump into the throng behind me, so I’m stuck. “What did they give you?”

Dawn squats down and pokes through the pile of stuff on the ground. “Flowers. Chocolate.” She shakes a little box. “This sounds like jewelry.” Then she plucks a manila envelope from the pile. “Gisselquist Modeling Agency,” she reads.