Chapter 19

I freeze, right there in the middle of the stage.

Mr. Lester and Mr. Tonetti look up from their seats in the front row.

I’m tempted to run back the way I came and hope they didn’t notice anything. But since we’re the only three people in the theater and the stage is lit up as bright as day, this seems rather unlikely.

“Um…hi,” I say.

They don’t say anything.

But they haven’t told me to go home yet, so maybe they really have given me a second chance.

And rather than running away like I want to, maybe I need to act like I deserved that chance.

So I walk slowly off the stage and into the audience. Right to where they’re sitting.

“Hi,” Mr. Lester says.

Mr. Tonetti just squints at me from behind his glasses.

I take a deep breath. “I’d like to thank you both for giving me another chance,” I say. “It really means a lot to me. And I won’t let you down. I promise.”

Mr. Lester nods. “You’re welcome, Epatha.”

Mr. Tonetti continues to squint at me in silence. Finally he says, “You will do what you are supposed to?” he says. “Because I was not so sure about this another-chance business. This is a favor to Linc Simmons. Not to you.”

I start to feel angry—but why would Mr. Tonetti trust me? I haven’t given him any reason to. Yet.

“I will do what I’m supposed to,” I say.

“I understand now about how you need to respect the choreographer. And how making things up causes problems and stuff.”

Mr. Tonetti does not look convinced.

“We’re counting on you, Epatha,” Mr. Lester says. “Linc is, too.”

“I know,” I say. “Thank you again.”

“You’d better get going,” Mr. Lester says.

Mr. Tonetti grunts.

I run out of the theater and join my friends.

After the encounter with Mr. Lester and Mr. Tonetti, the rest of the rehearsal is a piece of cake. We have to wait while some last-minute lighting changes are made. I see Linc’s friend Mac up on the catwalk near the ceiling, moving lights around. Then we run through the ballet without stopping, exactly the way we’ll do it for the opening tomorrow night.

Brenda, who dances beside me in the group, makes sure I start off in the right spot, since I’ve never practiced this dance onstage. But after that, I don’t need any help at all. I dance in perfect unison with my friends, just like I promised. Just like I want to.

“You did good, E.,” JoAnn says, when we’re back offstage.

“Yeah,” Al adds. “No one would ever know you’d just learned a new part.”

“Thanks,” I grin.

Since we won’t get to watch the real performances, we’re allowed to sit in the audience tonight after our part’s over. We grab front-row seats. The dancers are all graceful and powerful, especially Linc. And it’s cool to be sitting close enough to see the sweat on his face and to see him breathing hard. That’s what ballet is about: working hard and making it look easy. Now I want to be a professional dancer more than ever.

After the rehearsal is over, the dancers—including us!—gather onstage. Mr. Lester gives us notes, while Mr. Tonetti stands by his side.

“Robert,” Mr. Lester says to a tall blond man, “a little slow on your second entrance. And Maribelle, make that last spin sharper, if you can.”

As he continues, I can’t help it—my eyes drift over to Mr. Tonetti. He’s looking right at me. And I think he sees the question in my eyes: Do you think I did okay? Because as he holds my gaze, he nods his head, just once.

But that’s enough for me. I’m totally, completely, perfectly happy.