Wednesday afternoon found me sitting inside Ambler two hours before class, which was pretty much heaven for me.
As much as I hated all the drama that went on inside these walls, when it was empty the studio was like a baby sleeping. Peaceful. Quiet. Afternoon sunlight coated the lobby and the studio floors, and I was the first to flick on the light in the dressing room. I felt at home here.
Mom had a call with her agent to discuss a new book deal so she'd had to drop me off at dance early. I didn't mind—I could work on some homework in the dressing room and still have plenty of time to stretch and warm up. Maybe I'd even find an empty studio and run through some choreography for Nutcracker. I couldn't even take the chance that Paige's stupid rumor about Mrs. Princeton cutting dancers was the corps was true. I had to be at my A-game.
The only other person at Ambler was Mrs. Princeton, working behind closed doors in her office. When I walked past it I heard her talking quietly on the phone, her words inaudible. If I got to work in Studio A she might poke her head out and see how hard I was working.
I decided homework could wait and reached for my pointe shoes instead. With my sweats and t-shirt still on, I crossed back through the lobby and creaked open the door to the first studio, which was in plain sight of Mrs. Princeton's office, the lobby, and the parking lot. I usually hated working in here because everyone could see me, but today I didn't care. There was no one here to judge.
I worked for over an hour. After I warmed up I ran through some of the combos Mrs. Ava gave us last night, including the turning exercise that wasn't too hard once I wasn't distracted by Paige or Riley. Then I went through some petit and grand allegro until my legs burned from all the jumping and my lungs begged for water.
Smoothing back my sticky hair, I went back into the lobby just as the studio's front door opened. A tall, thin, blonde-haired woman stepped inside—a mirror image of her daughter Lauren. The woman who had to be Mrs. Reinhart rapped on Mrs. Princeton's office door and then stepped inside.
I recognized her from Nutcracker auditions—she'd watched, and when I left after being cut she told me I'd done well. She was super nice, which I assumed was Lauren's default personality, too, except Paige had a way of scooping all the worst out of you.
The office door shut behind Mrs. Reinhart, but not entirely—it was cracked open just a hair, so their voices filtered out. I plopped down on the wooden bench facing the door and put on a great show of untying my pointe shoes, keeping my ears pricked.
"I know we've spoken about this before," started Mrs. Reinhart softly, "but I think I'm going to have to pull Lauren out of dance. I just wanted to talk to you first—it'll break her heart when I let her know."
Silence. Either Mrs. Princeton hadn't said anything or my hearing was bad.
"As you know, Lucas lost his job a few months ago and it's been incredibly difficult keeping everything together. His hard work and my teaching isn't enough, especially with Lauren in private school at Lincoln. And her brother William expects to start there next year."
Wait, Lauren had financial trouble? Since when? Dancing at Ambler wasn't cheap. Even after you paid for the hours and hours of weekly classes, there were audition and performance costs, pointe shoes, leotards...not to mention the physical therapy if she got hurt. And I didn't know too much about fashion, but I could've sworn I'd seen in her looking just as trendy as Paige, who owned a mansion in Ambler's historic downtown district.
Could it be that the Clique's glittering, perfect lives weren't as transparently flawless as I'd thought?
"I don't even know about this month's tuition, Sheri," continued Mrs. Reinhart. "I'm sorry. I really am. We've been scraping together everything we can to help Lauren with this dream of hers, but I don't think we can do it anymore."
Squeaking—the trademark noise of Mrs. Princeton swiveling her desk chair from side to side thoughtfully. "It's such a shame," she said finally, her voice grating. "Lauren's so talented. She could easily be placed with a very good program after Ambler."
"I feel awful. This is all Lauren's ever wanted, and Lucas and I are standing in her way."
Both my pointe shoes were off now, and I just sat there eavesdropping. I felt a little guilty, but now I was too invested in this to stop. Was Lauren really going to stop coming to Ambler? I felt horrible for her. Ballet was my entire life, and if I was forced to stop I didn't know what I'd do.
The silence in the office dragged on. At first I thought the meeting was over, but then someone—Mrs. Princeton?—cleared her throat and said, "Look. Don't worry about this month's tuition. In fact, don't worry about future tuition, either. Please think of it as a scholarship for Lauren. She's too good at this for us to let her go."
"I can't ask you to do that."
"You're not asking. I'm telling you. It's about time Ambler started a financial aid program. Tell Lauren she doesn't need to worry about this. In fact...you can tell her right now."
I looked out the tiny window by the door and saw Lauren coming up the path, pulling her wispy blonde hair in a bun as she walked. She stuck some bobby pins in her mouth long enough to open the door and froze when she saw me sitting in the lobby.
"Hey," I said.
She tried smiling, but it looked forced. "Hey. There's usually not anyone else here this early."
I realized suddenly I was trapped. Mrs. Princeton and Mrs. Reinhart were going to come out of the office any minute—the door handle was twisting right now—and I was sitting here looking like a spy. I hopped up and grabbed my pointe shoes by the ribbons, saying, "Just came here early to practice."
Then I darted back into Studio A.
Mrs. Princeton and Lauren's mom emerged, and I saw through the mirror and the door I'd left open that Lauren's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. So she hadn't known her mom was here—uh-oh.
"Lauren, I thought you were at Paige's studying for your math test."
"I came here early to practice." She hitched her dance bag higher on her shoulder. "Why are you here?"
Suddenly I felt bad watching any more. I kicked the door shut and hoisted a leg up onto the barre to stretch. This was Lauren's business, and I'd already heard enough.
I'd kind of seen everyone at Ambler as cookies out of a cookie cutter. There was Paige, the leader, and her minions Lauren, Jordyn, and Summer. Then Riley the golden boy, Becca the nice one, and Finn her doting puppy-dog boyfriend. And of course Coral, but she was so quiet I'd never given her much thought.
But it hit me that these people were way more than the labels I'd slapped on them when I first started at Ambler. Lauren was proof of that. We were all just trying to reach a dream, and we had different ways of handling pressure and stress. Did that excuse Paige's daily torture? Fat chance. But at least it explained things.
I wouldn't survive here tiptoeing around on the outside, observing from a distance. I had to be in the middle of things. I had to figure out what made these people tick, what their best-kept secrets were. I had to be their best friends and their worst enemies. Otherwise, I'd never be able to compete.
Maybe it didn't matter that I wasn't the best of the best. Maybe if I acted the part—if I acted like I belonged here—people would start to believe me. It was worth a shot.
I lowered my leg off the barre and rolled through my pointe shoes instead. Less than an hour until class, according to the gray clock on the far wall. People would start arriving soon.
When I poked my head outside the door, Mrs. Reinhart was gone and Mrs. Princeton had gone back into her office. Lauren was nowhere in sight—when I went into the dressing room, she wasn't there either. I plopped down cross-legged in front of the mirror and spiffied up my bun, adjusting the bobby pins to hold back my flyaways.
The door to the dressing room opened and Jordyn stepped inside. I watched her through the mirror as she set her bag down on the bench and pulled off her t-shirt. Then came Coral, then Summer. I analyzed them all like they were my competition, because they were. They stood between me and a lead role, between me and Mrs. Princeton's favor, between me and whatever audition I attended in the near future. They were the Ambler elite. And I was determined to become one of them.
Lauren and Paige came inside next, talking quietly. For once, Paige didn't lash out at me—she seemed more focused on Lauren as they sat on their sacred bench. Paige stretched her feet in her socks, pointing and flexing them. They were better than mine. I'd have to stretch twice as hard now.
The next person in the room was Becca, trailed by—surprise—Finn. She was a potential ally, and I'd definitely need some of those if I was planning on migrating from the outside to the inner circle. I shot her a smile and she returned it, her eyes crinkling. Then she sat down on the floor next to Finn, laughing at something he said.
It was peaceful in here for now. The sunlight had dimmed so it didn't blind anymore, and the shadows from an impending rainstorm made the room feel cozy. I was safe, for now. But one misstep could be deadly.
I was over being the weak one. I was ready to fight. Across the room, I eyed Paige—she'd be the first for me to take down. Ready or not, game on.
A/N: This is a rewrite of the Ballet Blog series & is replacing them on my Wattpad. However, you can read all 9 Ballet Blog books & advance updates for my rewrite (for free!) at my website, https://selenabrookssbb.wixsite.com/justsel (also linked in my bio).