Virtuoso (editing)

Chapter 2

Dedicated to those who died in the 9/11 attacks, and their families and loved ones, as well as those injured or otherwise affected. God bless you, and may God bless the United States of America!

OK, guissssse, here's another chapter. Please comment to let me know you are there! Sorry if this feels like a filler, but the necklace is important...

Hey, look who's here!-->www.abt.org/education/dictionary/index.html

“Can I borrow your Theraband, Sutton?”

Victoire was sitting on the floor in the women’s locker room at Academy with Sutton, Priya and Leigh, two other girls who they had befriended over the last week. Victoire had figured out that the locker rooms were more of a hang-out spot than an actual changing room. In the summertime, everyone dressed from home anyway, so most girls were stitching pointe shoes, repinning hair, poring over copies of Pointe Magazine, warming up and socializing.

Sutton, who was redoing Priya’s bun, nodded. “It’s in the side of my dance bag.”

Victoire pulled Sutton’s bag towards her, and unzipped the side pocket. She spied the pack off Therabands--all four colors, she noticed--but another object caught her eye.

She pulled out the watch necklace from Sutton’s bag and held it up.

“Victorian or Gothic?” she asked.

Sutton smiled. “A bit of both, kind of--it’s steampunk.”

“Aren’t you afraid it’ll get stolen?”

“And that’s why you are going to put it back in my bag, where you found it.”

Victoire returned the necklace to its place, and started working her foot with the Theraband.

***

The Academy’s Level C class ended their ballet technique class. As the boys left for men’s class, the girls moved to the sides of the room to change into their pointe shoes for their next class.

Sutton removed her pointe shoes and toepads from her mesh bag, and began putting toe tape on her blisters. Victoire, who sat next to her doing the same, glared across the room.

Sutton put tape over her pinky toe and poked Victoire. “Did someone kill your cat?”

Victoire rolled her eyes back at her. “Adrienne’s coordination is so bad, she could have.”

Sutton tried not to laugh. Adrienne was the girl she and Victoire had observed on the first day. So far, they had learned that she had balance issues, coordination issues, and the inability to apply corrections. Adrienne had come from what serious students called a Dolly Dinkle school.  As Victoire had mentioned, they would show up at pre-professional schools, wondering why they were put in the lowest level, and figuring out that they could barely keep up there.

Adrienne had been en pointe for three years, but still struggled to balance en pointe, and could barely get over the toe box. Sutton had only been en pointe for three months, and she had completely gotten over the box in her first class.

Sutton finished tying the ribbons on her left shoe stood up. “Oh, Victoire, don’t be mean, it’s not her fault she got bad instruction.”

Victoire sneered at Adrienne from across the room. “How did she even get in?”

Sutton pointed her foot against the floor absentmindedly. “Well she’s still young, and she has the facilities and the bone structure is right...”

“Well she can’t dance for crap.”

Sutton bourreed and smiled at Victoire. “Well, you’re certainly happy today.”

Victoire finally smiled, and started to walk to the barre. “Have you forgotten? I’m not the nicest person in this class. Those who forget their past are forced to relive it...”

Sutton grinned and took the front of the barre, as she did on the first day of class. “Not really...It’s my turn today, remember?”