Dancing Daze (20 page)

I trudge off toward the train station, feeling dark and alone. And then I sit in a train carriage, alone. I’ve waited so long for Mills that I’ve missed the train Seth and Bailey always get. I can’t stop thinking about Mills and how much I miss her. I’ve tried not to think about it too much, as it’s so upsetting, but today it’s like a scab I just have to pick, pick, pick. For some reason, I want to make myself feel even worse. I remember all the fun we used to have, the sleepovers when we stayed up all night, laughing until our stomachs hurt, writing lists of the famous boys we’d like to marry, drawing our fantasy wedding dresses (that was Mills’s idea!), making up our faces like Lady Gaga and dancing around the bedroom, singing into hairbrushes, or playing Just Dance on the Wii until our bodies ached. My eyes start to fill with tears, and I blink them away and take a few deep breaths to steady myself.

As I’m walking up the road toward Saint John’s, I get a text from Seth:
FORGOT TO TELL YOU. OFF TO HOSPITAL WITH POLLY TODAY. WON’T BE IN SCHOOL. SEE YOU ON SAT XXX SETH

My heart sinks into my scuffed school shoes. Seth often goes to the hospital with Polly when she’s having her regular tests done, but did it have to be today? Oh, this day is just getting better and better.

At break, I spot Mills pulling books out of her locker and walk toward her, my stomach tense. “Mills?”

She turns to look at me, and we stand there for a few long seconds, staring at each other. Her cheeks go a little pink, and I can feel mine heating up too.

“Are you still coming to the ballet with Mum and Clover and me tonight?” I ask her. “Dad got us all tickets, remember? It’ll be fun.” I smile at her hopefully.

“Fun?” She gives a very un-Mills-like snort and slams her locker door shut. “As if I’d want to be anywhere near you, Amy Green. Get a life. And you’re in my way. Move!”

She pushes past me, her books clutched against her chest.

“Mills!” I walk after her.

“Stop following me, Amy. I don’t want to talk to you — not now, not ever. Get it?”

“I’m sorry, OK? I’m really, really sorry. I miss you. Please —” My voice cracks, and tears start to spill down my cheeks. Mills doesn’t stop walking.

“Oh, Mills!” I hear a voice behind me. It’s Annabelle. Nina and Sophie are with her. Annabelle’s mouth is twisted into a nasty scowl.
“Mills, don’t do this to me,”
she says in a high-pitched baby voice.
“I’m all alonio and I have no fwends. Boo-hoo-hoo.”
She pretends to cry into her hands.

“You’re completely heartless, Annabelle Hamilton,” I say, my stomach churning with upset and anger. “You’re nothing but a big bully.”

“At least I have friends, Amy Green,” she says, sneering.

“You don’t. People hang out with you only ’cause they’re scared of you. One day you’ll realize that.”

“Well, even Mills Starr doesn’t want anything to do with you, and she’s, like, a total loser. Which makes you an even bigger loser.”

“Don’t talk about Mills like that. She’s amazing and smart and funny — and loyal. And speaking of loyalty, shouldn’t you be sticking up for her? She is a fellow cheerleader.”

Annabelle laughs and tosses her hair, sending a waft of disgustingly sweet perfume into the air. “We are, like, so not friends. We only tolerate her ’cause we, like, need her so we can ace the nationals. After that, she’s so off the squad. She so doesn’t fit in. She’s, like, a complete square. You know something? You two deserve each other. You’re as pathetic as each other. Now, it’s been, like, awesome talking to you, but we have to split.”

“What makes you think I want to talk to you anyway, Annabelle Hamilton?” I say. But she’s right. I have no friends, so nobody hears me.

That evening, I’m standing in front of my mirror, staring at the girl in the black jeans and plain black T-shirt, the girl with the dead eyes and the slumped shoulders, when I spot something sparkly out of the corner of my eye. It’s the snow globe I bought Mills in Budapest. I must have knocked against it as I walked past my desk, because the tiny glittering “snow” particles are swirling around the tiny dancer inside it, like she’s caught in a blizzard.

I pick it up and hold it in my hands, running my finger over its smooth glass surface. I know Mills would have loved it. Swallowing back the lump in my throat, I sit down on my bed and stare into space. I guess it’s time to face facts. I’m going to have to learn to live without Mills, my best friend in the whole entire world.

Clover bounds through the door while I’m sitting there thinking and says, “Ta-da! You likey?” She drops the dark-pink shopping bag she’s holding onto the floor and spreads out her arms, like she’s tap dancing. She’s wearing a black dress with a soft velvet top and a full, ballerina skirt made of layers and layers of tulle. “It’s my homage to
Swan Lake.
”

“I thought we were seeing
Romeo and Juliet.
”

“It’s all ballet smallet. So? Do I look super-duper or what?”

“You look beautiful, Clover,” I say, my voice coming out a little flat.

“You don’t seem very excited about the show, Beanie. What’s up, jelly tot?”

“Mills,” I admit. “She’s not coming tonight. I’ve lost her, Clover. I’ve lost my best friend.”

Clover sits down beside me and puts her arm around my shoulders. “Have you tried talking to her, babes?”

“Yes. But she won’t listen to me. It’s no use. She doesn’t want anything to do with me, ever again.”

Clover spots the snow globe that is still nestled in my hands. “That was for her, wasn’t it?” she asks gently.

I nod. “Claire even tried talking to her for me, but it still didn’t work.”

“Give her the globe anyway. As a kind of farewell gift. Write her a note to go with it, saying how sorry you are. It will make you feel better about things later on. It might even give you some closure, as the Americanos say. I’ll ask your mum for a padded envelope and I’ll drop it over there while you get dressed, hon, OK?”

“I am dressed.”

Clover leans forward and picks the shopping bag up off the floor. “For you, babes. I thought you could do with a little pick-me-up.”

I pull out a black-silk puff-sleeved dress with tiny ballerinas all over it in white. It’s adorable.

“Thanks, Clover.”

“You’re welcome, Beanie. Now I have to help Sylvie with her makeup, so write that notearooney, chop-chop.” She tosses her head back, scowls at me, and taps her foot on the floor.

“Yes, Monsieur Elfman.”

“Got it in one, Beanie.” She laughs and then trips out of the room. As soon as she’s gone, I rip a page out of my notebook, grab a pen, and start to write.

“Everything all right, Amy?” Mum asks. We’re sitting in our red-velvet seats in the Bord Gáis Energy Theatre and I’m concentrating on the stage, trying to stop thinking about how much Mills would love this place. It’s truly breathtaking, with its soaring ceilings, made up of geometrical layers of wood, and mesmerizing lights in the shape of stars.

“Great.” I smile across at her, trying to forget about the empty aisle seat to my right. We are only six rows from the stage, at the end of the middle row, and we have an amazing view. Clover’s sitting to my left, and she squeezes my hand.

“Here we go, Ballet Bean, Claire’s big moment,” she says. “I don’t know about you, but my stomach’s turning pirouettes for her.”

“Mine too.”

There’s an excited
hum
as the last few people take their seats and the lights begin to slowly dim. Then I hear a voice from the aisle. “Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

I look up. And standing there, looking nervous, is Mills.
Mills!

I shake my head, unable to say anything and not daring to think about what this means.

She sits down beside me. “Thanks for the snow globe,” she says. “It’s beautiful. And your note meant a lot. I heard you sticking up for me today too, telling Annabelle I was funny and smart. Thanks. And I hate to admit it, but you were right all along. I did join the All Saints only ’cause of Bailey. But I really
like
cheering, Ames, and I’m good at it! I want to keep doing it — if Annabelle doesn’t drive me out, or murder me or something. The thing is I should never have read your diary in the first place.” She shrugs. “So I guess we’re back to normal. If that’s OK with you?”

For a second, I can’t say anything. I’m so relieved and happy that I’m speechless. Then I finally find my voice. “OK?” I squeal. “It’s brilliant.” I fling my arms around Mills and hug her tight, my heart soaring. “And I’ll always stick up for you, Mills. Always!”

“Claire told me about Budapest,” she says after our hug. “And how you and Clover tracked down Olga Varga and everything. She said talking to Olga about her dance worries made all the difference. Thanks to you, Claire’s back to her old annoying, bossy, confident self.”

I laugh. “But you wouldn’t have her any other way.”

“Correct!” She laughs too.

“Girls,” Mum hisses. “Keep it down now. It’s about to start. But I’m glad you could make it, Mills. Good to see you.”

“Me too,” Clover says, giving me a big I’m-really-happy-for-you smile.

As the orchestra starts to play, Mills and I both giggle and squirm in our seats like little kids, trying to contain our excitement, just as I predicted.

“I’ve really missed you, Ames,” Mills whispers. “Best friends.”

“Forever,” I add.

She grins, takes my hand in hers and holds it firmly, her palm warm against mine. I hope she never lets it go.