Bring It On (9 page)

“Me? I'm all good,” Devane answered. She leaned toward the mirror and used a tissue to flick away a tiny clump in her mascara. “Hip-hop's in my blood.”

Was Devane trying to psych her out? Emerson searched the other girl's face, trying to figure out her deal. “I've been dancing onstage since I was five. And that was with a professional ballet company,” she finally answered.

Brag much, Emerson?
she thought.
It's not like you were chosen to be a mouse in the
Nutcracker
because you were some kind of phenom. When you're five and you're playing a mouse, you're mostly supposed to be cute. And what five-year-old in a mouse costume isn't cute?

“Ooh. A professional ballet company.” Devane widened her eyes in mock admiration. “Did Mumsey and Daddy buy one for you?”

Don't just sit here and take this,
Emerson ordered herself.
Just because she's talking doesn't mean you have to listen. You have legs. Walk away.

Emerson stood. “I've got to go warm up,” she said.

Devane stood in the wings, ready for her first moment onstage. Her very first.

Unlike Miss Em-er-son.

The audience applauded as the music came pounding out and M.J. and ill papi started things up. The two guys owned the crowd. Devane could feel the excitement coming off all those people. M.J. and ill papi were creating that.

I could do that, too,
she thought.
I could make those people feel something. But not from the back row, left-hand corner.

She needed to be patient. The calendar on her wall at home covered a whole year for a reason. Her plan for world domination took three years for a reason. Big goals took big time. For now, what Devane needed to do was be a good little back-row Hip Hop Kid. Gina had to figure out eventually that Devane deserved a solo.

Okay, count it off,
Devane thought.
And five, six, seven, eight.
She swung herself out onto the stage, making sure to smile big at Gina on her way past and smile even bigger for the audience—whichever of them could see Devane. Then she launched into the routine, giving the moves everything but without adding any extras.

Now, left foot behind and turn. Devane stood facing the back wall. She heard a burst of applause. That would be for Chloe doing her thang. Another burst. That would be for Sophie doing her solo moves. How must it feel to listen to that clapping and cheering and know it was just for you, all of it?

Devane wasn't going to find out. Not today. She spun around with the rest of the class. Swing kick left. Swing kick left. Elbow out. Fist up. The dance moved so fast. Devane wasn't nearly ready for it to be over, but Emerson was already moving front and center for her solo. Getting her applause.

Why does she get front-and- center time?
Devane thought for the millionth time. She shoved the thought away. She needed to concentrate. She was almost up. She counted the beats, and there it was—her cue.

Devane broke out from the back of the group and joined Emerson. They flashed through their moves, some in sync, some in opposition. The crowd gave it up for her, too. Her and Emerson. Devane tried to tell herself that more of it was for her. But there was no way to know. Because this wasn't a solo.

Then here came little Max. They all dropped low, doing some eggbeaters and slides, then using a kip up to get back on their feet just as Becca joined them, her red hair flying. More applause. For all of them. It felt good. But it would have felt better if Devane was sure it was for her.

Look left. Follow your head around. Keep it low. Low is funky. Pump the arms, opposite hip action.
Gina's voice pounded through Devane's head. But she didn't need to hear it anymore. Her body had this mastered. She owned this.

Becca moved out. Devane worked the moves. Right elbow up. Right fist up. Left elbow up. Left fist down. Switch it. She couldn't see the audience. The lights were too bright. But she could hear them. And she could
feel
them. Max moved out. The crowd was sending out that same charge they'd been pumping to M.J. and ill papi.

But this time all that energy was coming straight at Devane and Emerson.

And in a few more beats Emerson would have it all to herself again. Devane wasn't ready to give it up. Why should she? She was as good a dancer as Emerson. Forget that. She was better.

Devane flashed on watching Sophie and Emerson that day Maddy had been observing the classes to choose new people for the Performance Group. Emerson had been goofing around, doing some ballet moves hip-hop style—almost like what she'd be doing for her solo at the end of the sequence. And Sophie had been clowning up the moves and tossing them back to her. Everyone had loved it. Maddy had loved it. Devane could still see the smile on her face.

This crowd would love something like that, too. So when it was time for Devane to go out, she didn't leave.

Emerson launched right into her first solo move with no hesitation. Devane could tell she was a little freaked, but that was only 'cause Devane was up close. Wouldn't matter as long as Emerson kept going.

Devane crossed her arms and leaned way back and watched Emerson, the way Sophie had done. Then after a couple of beats, she launched into the pirouette Emerson was locking through but doing it up Devane style.

The crowd hooted and hollered. And it was for Devane. All for Devane.

Emerson got what Devane was doing, and she reacted just the way she had with Sophie. Getting into it, playful battle style. The crowd took it up a notch, loving the way Emerson gave it right back to Devane.

They picked up the pace of the battle. And the audience went frantic. They were lovin' the show. When Devane and Emerson slammed to a stop, some people actually jumped to their feet. Their feet.

The applause was still ringing in Devane's ears when she and Emerson rejoined the rest of the group and fell in with the steps of the finale.

Emerson kept the smile on her face until she was completely offstage and she was sure that no one in the audience could see her. Then she dropped it.

“Are you okay, Em?” Sophie called, rushing up to her. “I can't believe Devane did that!”

“I can,” Emerson said. “That is so totally, completely like her. All she cares about is herself!”

“That was so tight, what you did out there,” she heard M.J. say. She glanced over her shoulder. And yes, he was talking to Devane.

“Did you hear that? M.J. thinks it was fabulous,” Emerson exclaimed. “And Devane looks like she just won an MTV award for best video or something.”

“No one in the house knew anything was wrong. That's something,” Sophie said, patting Emerson gently on the arm. “Although I should take Devane to task for stealing my moves. She took her whole part of the routine from me!”

“You'll have to wait in line,” Emerson answered, surprising herself. “I'm going over there and kicking her behind. Well, in a talking kind of way.”

She didn't wait to hear what Sophie would say. She was afraid if she waited, she wouldn't do it. And if she didn't do it—she'd never be able to look at herself in the mirror again without wanting to vomit.

Emerson strode straight over to Devane. M.J., Max, Becca, and Fridge were clustered around her.
Congratulating
her. Not Emerson's problem. She wasn't going to wait to talk to Devane in private. Everyone could hear this. She wanted them to.

“You said you weren't a diva the first day I met you. You lied!” she exclaimed.

“What's this mess you're talking?” Devane asked, raising one eyebrow.

“I thought you were just having fun, little dogs and your stretch SUVs and your movie-star boyfriends,” Emerson rushed on. “But you really are a diva. Divas only care about themselves. They expect everyone else to do everything they want because they are so, so special. Well, that's you, Devane. And you want to know another word for diva? Selfish!”

“Hold up!” Fridge protested.

“You're calling
me
selfish?” Devane cried, looking at the people gathered around with a
can-you-believe-this-girl
expression. “You're just mad because you didn't get every single second alone in the spotlight that you think you deserve.”

“Come on, you guys,” Max said. “Don't fight. We just had a great show.”

“It isn't about the spotlight,” Emerson insisted, ignoring Max. She felt angry tears sting her eyes, but she blinked them away. The very last thing she wanted was to let Devane see her cry. “What you did was completely unprofessional. We rehearsed the routine a million times. Why? So we could do a great performance.”

“That's right,” she heard someone say softly. She wasn't sure who. Her eyes were locked on Devane.

“And you just bust in there, break all the rules because
you're
mad you didn't get a single second alone in the spotlight!” Emerson rushed on.

“In case you didn't notice, I gave a great performance,” Devane shot back. “Those people out there loved me. They weren't disappointed they didn't get to see your perfect practiced, practiced, practiced routine. Did you hear that applause they gave up for me?”

“I heard.” M.J. moved a little closer to Devane.

“That applause was for both of us,” Emerson snapped. “Because I held it together and—”

But she found herself talking to Devane's back. Devane was already walking away.

“Uh-oh,” Max said softly.

Emerson followed Max's gaze—and saw Maddy and Gina. Oh, no. What had they seen? How much had they heard? They hadn't been there when she'd launched into her attack on Devane, Emerson knew that much.

Could this day get any worse?

Devane stepped into the lobby of the Gulliver Academy auditorium, and it was like she was back onstage. All that energy pouring into her. All her little cells had to be glowing. Her heart was doing some hip-hop of its own inside her chest. She didn't care what the ballerina said. Devane had rocked the stage, and it was the most sizzlin' experience of her life.

“How long have you been taking lessons?” a tall guy called to her. “You were awesome.”

“I was born awesome,” Devane called back with a wink.

“That duet you did with the blond girl was so funny,” a girl wearing a pale blue sweater set told Devane. “But it looked really hard. Did you two have to practice a ton?”

Devane shook her head. “Well, the other girl had to practice a lot. But not me.” She'd meant it to sound like a joke, but the words came out with more bite than she'd intended.

“Will you sign my program?” the girl asked. “I want to have your autograph when you're a star. 'Cause I can tell you're gonna be one.”

Getting asked for an autograph wasn't on Devane's calendar until next year! “Of course.” She took the girl's Hip Hop Kidz program and signed it the way she'd always planned.
Follow your own light. XXOO. Devane.

“Thanks!” The girl disappeared into the crowd. Devane looked around. Maybe somebody else wanted a Devane signature. She wondered if anyone would ask Blondie for hers. She didn't see Emerson around anywhere. But she did see Gina and Maddy heading toward her.

Devane waved at them. She couldn't wait to hear what they thought of the spin she'd added to the ballet combination. They had to have seen the way the crowd grooved on it.

It was so killer that Maddy was in the audience today. Maybe she would decide to invite Devane into the Professional Group right away. That group was one step above the Performance Group. They got some insane gigs. Not that Disney World was nothing. But the Professional Group did slammin' performances all the time. They'd even been in a Lil' Krypto video. A video! Getting in the Professional Group now could knock a year off Devane's schedule.