“Again!” Dana says, and the twelve of us take up our starting positions. I could do this part blindfolded, I think as I count out the beats and move into action. It’s my second week, and only my third class, but I’ve been practicing so much I feel like I’ve been working on this dance forever.
“One and two and three and…” calls Dana from the front of the room.
We’re working on a short sequence toward the end of the song, and the timing is tricky. I end up moving forward too soon. Dana stops the music and says, “Lila, your timing is off!” We try again. Two minutes later she calls out, “Lila, your timing!” I grit my teeth and focus on counting the steps in my head.
For the next section of the music, the twelve of us split into four groups. Bea, Eve and Sam do a wide hip circle, twirl to face the back of the room and fast shimmy for three beats, then twirl back to the front and…oops, Bea trips in the twirl and stumbles ever so slightly.
Dana stops the music. “Again!” she calls.
Eve’s face is creased with frustration as they go through the short sequence again. “Two and three and,” she counts as they start the shimmy. Bea gets it right this time, and they move from the twirl into a figure eight in the hips. Their right hips sway from back to front, and then they shift their weight to their right legs as their left hips sway from back to front.
But once again Bea messes up. Eve throws up her arms, and Dana says, “Get some water, everyone, while I work with Bea on this.”
Bea’s face is scarlet as we all move to the edges of the room.
Eve has that brittleness about her again, and when we meet next to the water bottles, she sighs heavily. For the whole time we wait for Dana and Bea to run through the sequence, Eve never takes her eyes off Bea. Man, the girl is focused. I guess that’s what makes her such a good dancer. But I hope she never turns that look on me. It makes me shiver to think about it.
We stop several more times through the class. Three more times for Bea and a couple more times for me. It’s like I can’t do anything right today. By the end of class our nerves are ragged, and we’re all sweating like pigs.
“Good work today, girls,” Dana says as we file out of the room.
“Phew, she’s tough,” I say to Robin as we pull on our shoes.
“Yeah, don’t you like it?” she asks.
I sigh and then take a deep breath. “I love it,” I say. “Maybe not at the moment, as she’s drilling me in a movement over and over and over again, but later, when I get it, then I love it.”
“Me too,” says Robin. “She’s made me the dancer I am.”
“I know what you mean. Dana doesn’t put up with any sloppiness. Like how she’s always getting us for posture and stuff.”
“Exactly,” says Robin.
She waves goodbye as she leaves the room, and I pull on my sweater and gather my bag. As I walk past the door to the studio, I see Eve and Bea in the room, talking to Dana. I wonder what they’re talking about. I don’t think I’d want to be part of that conversation.
* * *
At Monday’s class, it’s clear that Bea has spent her whole weekend practicing, and even Eve seems pleased with her after our first run-through. I practiced a lot too, so Dana only has to stop for me once to go over the muscles I should be using in my chest lifts. I concentrate really hard on using my upper back and upper abs in the proper sequence as we go through the choreography a second time. Dana doesn’t say anything, but by this time I’ve learned that’s a good thing.
When we break, I find myself standing next to Bea, so between gulps of water I say, “You danced beautifully today, Bea.”
She beams at me and says, “Robin and Alex and I got together on the weekend to practice. They drilled me, and I’m feeling pretty good.”
“That was nice of them,” I say.
“Yeah, they were so helpful. I don’t want to get kicked out now.”
“Dana wouldn’t do that,” I say, but Bea cocks her eyebrow at me and says, “She might. And Eve wouldn’t mind if she did.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” I say, but Bea grimaces, and I think of the conversation I saw at the end of last class between Bea, Eve and Dana. Probably that’s what it was about.
“Well, anyway, you looked great just now,” I say. “I’m sure she won’t kick you out.”
“Thanks, Lila.”
We put our water bottles down and head back to the center of the room. As I stretch and settle into my posture for the next run-through, I glance over at Robin. I wish they had included me in their weekend sessions.
By the end of class, I feel like I could perform this dance for the queen. Every move, every gesture, feels familiar and right. I’m breathing fast and sweating hard, but it’s a relief to know the dance so well.
As we gather up our water bottles and head toward the door to the lobby, Eve puts her hand on my shoulder and says, “You’re really coming along, Lila. I’m glad Amala sent you over. You have a good chance of being one of the girls chosen to perform in the festival.”
“What?” I ask stupidly. “Aren’t we all going to?”
Eve tosses her ponytail over her shoulder and arches her eyebrows at me. “Ten of us are,” she says.
There are twelve of us.
My face must give away my confusion, because Eve says, “Didn’t you know you were being auditioned?”
I shake my head, because I can’t speak. I feel like such an idiot. There I was, so happy that Dana was giving me all that attention, correcting tiny aspects of posture or gesture, and proud of myself for learning the dance so quickly, when all along she’s been sussing me, trying to decide if I’m going to be one of the girls who gets cut from the troupe for the performance.
“It makes sense,” Eve goes on as we enter the lobby and she pulls her hoodie and shoes out of the cupboard. “I mean, of course Dana wants more girls than she needs, so she can choose the best ones. It’s how any professional dance group works.” She zips up her hoodie and slips on her shoes.
The lightness I felt at the end of class disappears, and my boots feel like they’re made of concrete as I shuffle down the stairs behind Eve and out of the building to the bus stop. For the whole ride home, all I can think about is what a dolt I’ve been. It makes me sick to my stomach to think about it.