The competitive team from City Feet was up first in the Junior Small Group category. They marched through the halls backstage, chanting: “Move left! Move right! Move to the beat and make way for City Feet!” They were all dressed in silver sequin leotards and black tights studded with rhinestones.
“Big-time bling,” Rochelle whispered in Scarlett’s ear.
“Remember what I told you: game faces,” Miss Toni warned the Divas as the girls marched by. “They can’t scare us.”
“Are you sure about that?” said a voice behind them. It was Justine Chase. Scarlett recognized her from the photo.
“Justine . . . It’s been ages,” Toni answered with a forced smile.
“And you certainly look your age, Toni,” Justine shot back. “Aww, is that a frown line I see? You should smile more! Then again, you were always so, so serious!”
Rochelle elbowed Scarlett in the ribs. “This is worse than we thought!” she whispered.
Toni took a deep breath. “And as I recall, you were always so, so sloppy, which I’m sure is still true.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Justine grinned. “Why don’t you watch and find out?”
Just then, the announcer summoned the City Feet dancers to take their places.
“Pigs and crickets!” Justine called after them.
“Pigs and what?” Bria scratched her head.
“It means good luck.” Toni groaned. “I do not like pigs and crickets—and I do not like Justine Chase.” She went out to the audience to watch the performance unfold.
“Phew.” Rochelle whistled. “I’m glad she’s mad at Justine and not me for a change!”
Scarlett peeked out from behind the curtain to catch a glimpse of Miss Toni. To say she looked angry was putting it mildly. She hadn’t seen Toni this furious since Rochelle tossed her ballet shoes in the toilet and flooded the dressing room.
“I think Justine knows how to get under her skin,” Scarlett said. It reminded her a lot of how Gracie knew exactly when and how to push her buttons. To be that good at bugging someone, you truly had to know her inside and out.
“You think they were enemies in ballet school, too?” Rochelle asked. “Maybe Mean Justine was a mean girl back then, too.”
“She may be mean, but she’s right. They look pretty fierce,” Liberty said. She motioned to the five City Feet girls onstage. The lead dancer was a tiny girl—no more than Gracie’s age—who took her position in a chin stand as the music began to play. She then exploded across the floor, tumbling and leaping in a breathless array of acrobatic moves. Their routine was called “Hyperactive”—which pretty much described it perfectly. The number ended with a blast of fireworks and a spray of silver confetti on the audience.
“Sick! That is just sick!” Rochelle exclaimed.
“What is that gymnast—like five years old?” Liberty added.
Bria pulled out her phone and searched for City Feet again. “She’s seven. Her name is Mandy Hammond . . . and her nickname is ‘the Tiny Terror,’” she read. “She’s been the National Petite champion three years in a row. Undefeated.”
“Sick!” was all Rochelle could say again.
Scarlett watched as they dazzled the judges and the crowd. She could see Toni taking it all in from the back row. If she was as impressed as the Divas were, no one would be able to tell. She showed absolutely no emotion—not even when the crowd leaped to their feet in a standing ovation.
“We can’t do that. We don’t have anyone who can do that,” Bria said, and sighed.
“I can do a better scissor leap!” Liberty insisted.
Rochelle glared. “You’re not bad, but this girl has some serious acro moves. She’s like an Olympic gymnast or something!”
Olympic gymnast? Scarlett suddenly thought of someone who might also be able to land many of those moves. She scanned the audience and found who she was looking for. There, front and center, was her little sister, Gracie, with their dad and grandparents. She was holding a bouquet of flowers on her lap, which Scarlett guessed were for her. Especially since Gracie was plucking the petals and tossing them on the floor, one by one.
“Gracie could do it,” she said. “She’s really good for her age. You should see her cartwheels.”
“Gracie? As in your crazy little sister, Grace Face?” Liberty asked.
“She’s not crazy! And if she is, well, you’re not her sister, so you can’t say that!” Scarlett exclaimed. The floor around Gracie’s seat was now covered in red rose petals.
“But she’s seven!” Liberty protested.
Bria shoved her phone in Liberty’s face. “So is the Tiny Terror.”
“There’s no use talking about it now,” Scarlett reminded them. “We’re up next.”
“Why bother?” Bria sighed. “They are so much better than we are.”
“Do not let Toni hear you say that,” Scarlett said. “We have to do this for her. We can’t let City Feet win.” They all agreed and placed their hands one on top of the other in the center of a huddle.
“One-two-three-four,” chanted Scarlett.
“Dance Divas on the floor!” the other girls joined in.
“Five-six-seven-eight! Who’s the team that’s really great? DIVAS! DIVAS! Go, DANCE DIVAS!”