Scarlett knew the “Cyberbully” routine wasn’t a typical dance-competition number. Her costume was a red beaded leotard and sheer tights splattered in red paint. The other girls wore black leotards with “thorny” branches wrapped around their bare arms. It was risky to say the least; “artsy” is what her mom had called it. But Scarlett could never have predicted the audience’s reaction as the girls finished the routine. They carried her across the stage as the message “SIGNING OUT” flashed across the video screen behind them.
There was silence. Complete and utter silence. When they returned for their bows, the judges were still staring at the stage, dumbstruck.
“This is either really good or really bad,” Scarlett whispered to her teammates.
“That was so cool! Go, Scoot!” came a voice from the front row. Thank goodness for Gracie! Scarlett thought. The audience erupted in laughter, and the tension was broken. The crowd applauded enthusiastically, but Scarlett wasn’t sure if it was for their dance or for Gracie’s review.
Miss Toni waited in the wings, and as usual, her face was impossible to read. Had they messed up? Had they disappointed her? The girls braced themselves for her critique.
“I saw bent legs, girls, and Bria, you were a beat behind everyone else after the tour jeté.” She paused. “But overall, good job.” Then she walked back to the audience to wait for the award announcements.
“That’s it?” asked Liberty.
“That’s it,” Scarlett replied. “It wasn’t our best dance, but it wasn’t our worst, either.”
“I’d hate to see your worst,” said a small voice from the wings.
“Oh no!” Bria whispered, ducking behind Scarlett. “It’s the Tiny Terror!”
“Excuse me?” asked Scarlett. No seven-year-old was going to speak to her team that way.
“Nothing. I’m just saying I thought you guys would be serious competition. Our coach said so, but I guess she was wrong. I thought you were kind of lame.”
“Listen up, pip-squeak,” Liberty began. It was the first time Scarlett was actually glad to have Liberty on their side. “What’s lame is the circus act you call a dance routine. I hear Ringling Brothers might have a few openings in the clown department.”
Rochelle laughed out loud. “Good one, Lib!”
Mandy pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “Oh yeah?” she said.
The Divas stared her down. It was clear she had no comeback, so she stomped away.
“Wow, you sure put her in her place, Liberty,” Scarlett said. “I didn’t think you cared about the team.”
“Of course, I do!” Liberty answered. “I mean . . . I guess.”
Rochelle draped her arm around Liberty’s shoulder. “I’m deeply touched,” she teased. “Seriously, thanks for putting that little brat in her place. She has a bigger mouth than you.”
“Oh no, she doesn’t.” Liberty smirked. “And you’re welcome.”
Scarlett’s mom found the girls backstage. “Ladies,” she said, “I hate to break up the fun, but they’re about to announce the winners of the Junior Solos.”
“Oh my gosh! That’s me!” Liberty raced back onstage.
“And you,” Rochelle said, and elbowed Scarlett.
“What’s the use? I’m not going to win any medals, unless it’s for best belly flop,” Scarlett said, trying to make a joke, but her hip and her pride still hurt.
The announcer took the envelopes from the judges and cleared his throat. “Third place in the Junior Solo category . . . Scarlett Borden, ‘In the Clouds,’ from Dance Divas Studio!”
“You did it!” Rochelle hugged her.
“It’s third place,” Scarlett said with a sigh, “not first. Miss Toni always says ‘It’s first or nothing,’ which makes me nothing.” But she stood up, shook the announcer’s hand, thanked the judges, and accepted her trophy.
“In second place, Phoebe Malone, ‘Get on Your Feet,’ City Feet Dance Studio!”
Scarlett grimaced. Miss Toni would not be happy that a City Feet girl had beaten her.
“And in first place in the Junior Solo category, Liberty Montgomery, ‘Wings,’ Dance Divas Studio!”
Liberty jumped to her feet and grabbed the trophy and tiara from the announcer.
“Way to go!” her mother shouted from the audience. Miss Toni was beaming as well.
“Next up . . . the winners for Junior Small Group,” the announcer continued.
Bria grabbed Scarlett’s and Rochelle’s hands and squeezed them tight. “This is it!”
Scarlett hated the suspense. At least let us place, she thought.
“In third place, ‘Sunny Side of the Street,’ by Puttin’ On the Ritz Dance Studio.”
Scarlett’s heart was beating so hard she could barely breathe. She didn’t need to look out in the audience to know that Miss Toni was on the edge of her seat, too.
“Second place, Junior Small Group, goes to ‘The Power of Love,’ by Dance Elite!”
“That leaves just first place!” Bria exclaimed.
“We’re toast.” Rochelle sighed.
Scarlett noticed that Mandy was watching them. The entire City Feet team looked as cool as cucumbers. One girl was reapplying her lip gloss; another was texting on her phone.
“Finally, the top prize for Junior Small Group performance. First place goes to . . .”
A hush fell over the room. You could hear a bobby pin drop. Scarlett felt as if the world was standing completely still, waiting for their names to be plucked out of the envelope.
“City Feet Dance Studio for ‘Hyperactive’ !” the announcer’s voice boomed through the ballroom.
The girls jumped to their feet and lifted Mandy high on their shoulders.
“Woo-hoo!” Mandy cheered. “We did it! We won!”
Scarlett applauded to show good sportsmanship, but inside she felt cold and empty. She actually shivered.
“We were robbed.” Liberty fumed. “Our dance was way better than theirs. At least my part of it was.”
“We lost. We have to face it,” Scarlett said sadly. “And worse, we have to face Miss Toni.”