Shooting Star

Chapter 34

"Will the remaining seven dancers please stand with their choreographers onstage?" the host called.

I stood next to Ms. Rienne, who had choreographed my contemporary solo. Janelle had Ms. Ellis, and Natalie had Ms. Parolee.

Ms. Rienne squeezed my hand. "You'll make it, your dance was flawless."

"I don't know," I murmured.

"We're going to turn out all the lights in the theatre," the host said. "Please don't turn on your phones. What's going to happen is that we're going to shine a spotlight on the dancers that made it to the final round."

After she finished talking, the lights went out.

"The first dancer to make it to the final round is..."

The spotlight flashed on. I scanned the stage, and when I found the dancer who was shining bright, my heart sank.

"JANELLE LEXINGTON!"

The spotlight disappeared.

"The second dancer to make it to the final round is..."

I crossed my fingers and my toes.

The light was so bright I had to blink.

"BRIANNA MILLER!"

Yes! I thought. I still have a chance!

"And the final dancer making it to the last round is..."

Not Natalie, not Natalie, not Natalie, I prayed again.

"ALISON KANG!"

Alison's face turned blood red. Stepping out of the spotlight, she ran up to the judge and whispered something. Actually, it looked like she was limping.

"Oh, it looks like Alison hurt herself during her last performance and can't compete for the title. So sorry to hear that, Alison. Anyways, it looks like us judges have some re-assessing to do."

While they were talking, I stepped up to Alison and whispered, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said. "Except on my last Russian I think I landed too roughly and hurt myself."

"That sucks," I said sympathetically. "I hope you get better."

"So do I," she said. "Thanks Brianna."

"So..." the judges were done their conference. "The last and final dancer moving on is..."

The world seemed to fall in slow motion.

I didn't remember much after that.

I couldn't hear anything. My vision was a big blurry blob.

All I saw was a blob that looked like Janelle jumping up and down and hugging a girl that looked like Natalie.

When my hearing came back, I knew it was true.

Natalie, Janelle, and I were all in the final.

This can't be happening, I thought. Can't there be someone else in the final? Not Natalie? Or at least not Janelle? I don't want to compete against two girls who hate my guts almost as much as their cousins do!

This was official, it really was an all-out war. 

And I wasn't going to go down without a fight.

Because I knew one thing.

I COULDN'T LOSE.

"Let's give our top 3 dancers a round of applause," the host said, taking the microphone back. "And a round of applause to the other four girls who didn't make it."

The audience clapped.

"Can the top three dancers go get changed into their last costume and prepare for the last round? We'll have Ms. Lexington go first, followed by Ms. Miller, then Ms. Williams."

The dancers that were all onstage all trooped back to their respective changerooms.

"Congrats," Hannah said, hugging me. "Beat the shit off those two."

"You don't like them either?" I asked, surprised.

"They tried to sabotage my performance by ruining my costume," she murmured. "Watch out for them, they're so cruel."

"Thanks for the heads-up," I said.

"No problem."

They're just like their cousins, I realized. They'll stop at nothing to come out on top. Even if it means breaking the rules.

I'd better go make sure they haven't started ruining my stuff, I thought in horror, and dashed off to my changeroom.

"So, it looks like it's us three," Janelle sniffed, toying with the hem of my poodle skirt.

My pulse quickened. "I need that," I said briskly, crossing to the room and tugging the poodle skirt out of her grip.

Janelle let me have it, but when I grabbed it, I gasped.

"It looks like there's only two competitors left," Natalie said, grinning evilly, holding up a pair of scissors. "That's what you get for beating our cousins."

"You ruined my costume," I whispered.

"I'll go tell the judges there'll only be two competitors," Aly-G said sweetly.

Wait,  I realized. I still have another costume. I don't have to dance my modern number, even though I was planning to.

"Hold it right there," I snapped. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You're going to dance with just a poodle skirt?" Janelle snickered. "Good luck with that."

I ignored her and sat down, putting my hair into a bun.

I'd done my contemporary solo, my jazz solo, my modern solo. I had continued to take do a musical theatre solo even though I'd quit the larger groups. The poodle skirt was for my MT solo.

But I had one solo left to do. My ballet solo. My costume was stuffed carefully into my dance bag, hiding it from my competitive team. Or should I say, competiTORS.

"You can't dance in the skirt now," Natalie said evilly. "Look what we've done to your lovely costume!"

I turned around, bracing myself for what was to come.

When I saw it, though, tears sprung to my eyes.

My poodle skirt, my 80s Vintage Poodle Skirt that my grandmother had given to me, had been cut to pieces.

TO PIECES.

I was so filled with rage I could barely contain it.

That was it. I'd had enough. I snapped a picture of it and sent it to Kylie, along with this text:

THIS IS WHAT THOSE BITCHES DID TO MY COSTUME B/C I MADE IT TO THE FINALS. THIS IS WHAT THEY'RE DOING TO ME. THEY CUT MY FRICKIN 1980s POODLE SKIRT INTO LITTLE SHREDS! WHAT THE HELL?

WELL, THEY'RE NOT GOING DOWN WITHOUT A FIGHT. OH NO, THEY'RE NOT.

MY GRANDMOTHER GAVE ME THAT TO WEAR AT THIS COMPETITION. THEY KNOW THAT. I'M IN SO MUCH SHIT RIGHT NOW BECAUSE IF I DON'T DANCE IN IT SHE'LL BE SO DISAPPOINTED. 

I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THOSE BITCHES KICKING ME AROUND THIS WAY AND THAT.

THEY WANT A FIGHT, THEY'RE GONNA GET ONE.

IF I DON'T WIN, I'M LEAVING DANCING.

FOREVER.

WHICH ONLY MEANS ONE THING.

I. 

CAN'T.

LOSE.