All week long after the Feet on Fire win, Scarlett kept playing the Toni-Justine conversation over and over in her head.
“She said they were best friends,” she told Rochelle while they were getting ready for stretch class. “Like how we’re best friends. How weird is that?”
“Really weird. I didn’t think Toni had any friends,” Rochelle said, and giggled.
“Justine must have done something really awful for Miss Toni to hate her so much,” Scarlett continued. “I wonder what it was.”
“Can I just remind you about the no-spying policy Miss Toni made us all swear to,” Bria piped up. “I’m all for cyberdetective work, but I’m scared. Miss Toni said ‘Mind your own beeswax’ and she meant it.”
“She meant it about the City Feet team,” Liberty pointed out. “This isn’t about them. It’s about Miss Toni.”
“And Justine,” Rochelle said. “But I guess they weren’t coaches when this all happened, right?”
“Right!” Scarlett typed in the website for American Ballet Company on Bria’s laptop and clicked on the tab marked “School Archives.” She scanned through about a dozen pictures, searching for photos of Toni’s performances as a young ballerina.
“Aha!” she exclaimed, when she came across a group photo. There, dressed in red fire-bird costumes, were Toni and Justine. Another picture showed them dancing side by side in the corps de ballet of Coppélia.
“They were always in the front row together,” Bria noted.
“Until this year,” Scarlett said. “Look at all these photos of Justine.” She was Odette in Swan Lake, Juliet dancing with her Romeo, Cinderella at the ball.
“No Toni?” Rochelle asked. “That’s weird.”
“That’s the key,” Scarlett said.
“Do you seriously think this whole Toni-Justine feud is about Toni losing out on leads in ballet school?”
“I know how to find out,” Liberty said. She clicked on the tab marked “Alumni” and found Justine’s e-mail.
“What are you going to say?” Scarlett asked, worried. “Miss Toni is going to freak if she finds out you’re e-mailing Justine.”
“She won’t find out,” Liberty insisted. “I’ll create a fake e-mail account.”
Then she typed, “Meet me in the lobby of the Atlantic City Convention Center before Nationals—Toni.” She hit Send before the rest of the girls had a chance to chicken out.
“It might fix things between them,” Bria said hopefully.
“Or it might start World War Three!” Scarlett sighed. Nationals was three months away, and both City Feet and Dance Divas would be competing. Maybe Justine would be way too busy with her team to meet Toni. Maybe she wouldn’t even want to.
Bria’s laptop suddenly dinged. There was an e-mail.
“See you there. Justine.”