LITMIR.BIZ

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in the centre of the room.

      “Are you finished?” Mr. Moretti asked, sounding pained. Alexandra nodded, blushing. She began to wiggle her feet around nervously. “I will not let anything like that go on stage. You were obviously not watching. When you are in the studio, I am God. Do you understand me? When you are outside of the studio you may do whatever you wish, but here I am God and you must obey me. If I say do something, you do it. Exactly how I said. And pay attention the entire time. Okay, everybody may go home.”

      Anna burst into giggles as soon as they reached the stairs. “Omigod, that was hilarious!” Wait ’til I tell Grace, she’ll love that one. That was totally classic Mr. Moretti. ‘I am God …’” Alexandra felt sick. She rushed to get changed. She wanted to get out of the academy before everyone else got out of rehearsal.

      As she trudged up the stairs she stopped to look at a framed photo of Leonie Camden on the wall. The Demidovskis framed pictures and news clippings of their favourite graduates on the wall, and she was one of Alexandra’s favourites. Leonie graduated four years ago, and she had accomplished everything that Alexandra dreamed of. Leonie got her RAD Solo Seal award at sixteen, and she was always chosen for solo and principal roles. After winning gold at the Prix de Lausanne during her graduation year, Leonie was invited to join the San Francisco Ballet.

      Alexandra smiled to herself, looking at the picture of Leonie in arabesque. It was taken right after she won gold. Leonie looked exhausted but happy as she posed in her tutu. Alexandra had watched Leonie perform that variation on YouTube a million times. She always imagined herself in Leonie’s place, trying to feel the way Leonie’s muscles worked during the harder parts, the way the lights would appear, the size and rake of the stage.…

      Alexandra continued up the stairs. Her resolve was back.

      “Alexa! Alexandra!” Mrs. Demidovski had spotted her from inside the office and called her in. “Come here, eh?” She gestured at a chair.

      “Hello, Mrs. Demidovski,” Alexandra said nervously. She walked quickly into the office and sat down, twisting her hands nervously in her lap.

      “Where is your coat? You need coat go outside, it is cold! I don’t want everyone get sick before The Nutcracker, cannot be some fever, some cough, some something else.”

      “I’ve got a coat right here.” Alexandra held it up for inspection.

      “Ah. It doesn’t look warm enough, eh?”

      “It’s warm.”

      “Ah that’s good. So, you have lots of friends here? Grace? Grace is good girl, good friend for you. Also new boy, what is name … Mr. Demidovski like? Julie?”

      “Julian?”

      “Yes, yes. Good boy, nice body. And Tristan, work hard, much improve.” She started chuckling at the idea of Tristan. “You’re a good girl, much improve. Don’t worry, just work, eh? Get stronger, then more roles, okay? Must fight, be strong. Sometimes there is tree, a little cherry tree, have pretty blossoms … it is growing, watered … but then an axe come, whack!” Mrs. Demidovski hands were like knives as she mimed chopping the little tree into bits. “Chop, chop … must not be like this, must be strong, too hard to chop down. And if axe come, chop, must grow back, stronger. Cherries come. Yes? You need something, come talk to Mrs. Demidovski.”

      “Okay. Thank you, Mrs. Demidovski.” Alexandra felt absurdly elated.

      Mrs. Demidovski sat back; the conversation was clearly finished. Alexandra stood up, nodded, and smiled awkwardly, thanking her again.

      As Alexandra walked toward her mom’s car, the happiness she had felt from Mrs. Demidovski’s words slowly evaporated as common sense kicked in. It was alright for Mrs. Demidovski to say “be a good girl, work hard, wait,” but Alexandra had been waiting and working ever since she came to the academy. Grace and Anna never had to wait, and they hadn’t even won a bronze, Alexandra fumed. I am just so tired of the whole academy!

      “Hey, how was rehearsal?” Beth asked as Alexandra got in the car.

      “Hell, as usual. I seriously hate Mr. Moretti,” Alexandra said, pulling her pointe shoes out and placing them on the car cup holders.

      “Alexandra, put those away! They stink!”

      “They’re wet! If I leave them in my bag they’ll just stay wet, and then they’ll melt, and then they’ll be dead and I’ll have to use a new pair tomorrow.”

      “All right, fine. But put them on the back seat.”

      “Fine. Oh, and Mrs. Demidovski randomly called me into her office after rehearsal.”

      “For what?”

      “The usual. Be a good girl, everything will be all right. Don’t worry, work hard …”

      “How nice of her.” Beth’s tone was sarcastic. “Just to make sure we keep paying her, I suppose.”

      “I don’t think so, actually. You know how awkward she is about money. I don’t really understand her. I swear, it’s like Mr. and Mrs. Demidovski really like me every time they talk to me, and then casting comes up and I don’t know what happens.” Alexandra winced. “Ow! I need ice … and Tylenol.”

      “Tylenol? I don’t like you taking it so often.”

      “Mom, my ankle’s killing me.”

      “Okay, but be sure. I don’t want you ODing on Tylenol.”

      Alexandra started giggling. “I can totally see that in 24 Hours: ‘Ballet Dancer Teen Overdoses on Tylenol.’”

      “Alexandra! It’s not funny.”

      In her room, Alexandra heaved her bag onto the bed with a groan. She took her school books out; biology, Hamlet, history.… A paper fell out of her English binder. It was a letter from McKinley inviting any Super Achievers students to submit their accomplishments to be posted on the wall and in the student newsletter. Underneath was a reminder to register if you wanted to perform at the school assembly.

      Alexandra sat down on her bed and stared at the paper, biting her lip as she considered. Bronze at the Genees might be considered good by the kids at the academy, but she knew that the others in the Super Achievers program would just want to know why not a gold. A girl in her class had made the gymnastics team for the Olympics, and one of the boys had just missed school because he had a special violin solo performance in New York. Katy had just got back from three months of modelling in Italy. And she hadn’t seen Josh or Emily in weeks because they were filming. And that’s just the things I know about, Alexandra thought, pushing her textbooks off the bed so that they fell to the floor with a crash.

      “And as for the assembly performance? Forget it!” She said out loud to her history book. The rhythmic gymnasts would steal the show, like they did every year, and the Evergreen Arts dancers would embarrass themselves by performing, which they did every year and never seemed to realize. No, performing was not an option. Especially if Diana was going to perform. Diana was in the program for opera, and she was incredible. Alexandra groaned and lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. She clenched her hands into fists and punched the pillow. If I’d just gotten gold … but I still wouldn’t have performed, I guess. Ballet couldn’t compete for coolness with rhythmic gymnastics and opera, and she couldn’t risk the fallout if people didn’t think she was any good. She couldn’t endure the embarrassment.

      “Alexandra! Dinnertime soon, come and set the table,” Beth called.

      “Coming,” Alexandra yelled back. She sighed, feeling her jaw line and cheeks. It didn’t seem possible to just stop. She needed to. She would be perfectly fine, and then suddenly everything would seem too much, she would panic stuff food into her body as fast as she could. It didn’t have to be a lot, just fast. And then, she would have to throw it up. She couldn’t dance on a full stomach, it wasn’t possible. Throwing up made her feel so much better. It calmed her down, made her feel like she was succeeding, even if everything seemed out of control.

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