There was no time to wonder what Bria and Liberty were up to. Scarlett and Rochelle had to go head-to-head against Phoebe in the Junior Solo category.

“What is she supposed to be?” Rochelle asked, peering out onstage. Phoebe was wearing a black tuxedo jacket and adjusting the cuff links at her wrists.

“She’s Bond, James Bond,” Anya said, reading the program.

“She’s boring, SO BORING!” Rochelle added, watching Phoebe’s contemporary routine. “I’m falling asleep.”

“Yeah, it’s just missing something,” Scarlett agreed.

Phoebe’s steps were sleek and technically perfect with an amazing battement combination in the middle. Yet it lacked energy, enthusiasm, and excitement: Miss Toni’s “3E’s” for winning.

Anya checked the program. “You guys are up next,” she told Rochelle and Scarlett.

Scarlett made sure her blond wig was pinned tightly in place and her red lipstick wasn’t smudged. She didn’t need a fashion faux pas.

“You can do it,” Rochelle said, hugging her friend. “Don’t forget to do the face.”

Scarlett took the center of the stage in her pointe shoes. She tried to remember everything Toni had told her: be strong yet fragile, graceful yet sad. She reminded herself to think of the moment her parents told her they were divorcing. She felt her eyes sting.

“Wow, she is so into it,” Anya whispered in the wings.

“She does good tippy-toes,” Gracie added, referring to Scarlett’s bourrées across the stage.

Scarlett finished with a grand jeté that looked as if she was flying through the air. The audience applauded wildly as she kneeled, stretched her arms out to the judges, and raised her eyes upward. The spotlight got smaller until it only focused on her face. Scarlett could feel the tears spilling down her cheeks.

“You were awesome!” Rochelle said, catching her bestie as she ran backstage.

“Really? I was so swept up in the emotion, I think I was a little wobbly on the pirouettes,” Scarlett replied.

“You were the embodiment of Marilyn,” said a voice behind her. Toni swooped in to congratulate her. “That was an emotional tour de force. The judges were passing around the tissue box.”

“And now it’s your turn,” J. J. told Rochelle. “Do me proud, Rock.”

Rochelle nodded. She felt the butterflies flutter in the pit of her stomach and her heart began to pound. She held on to that nervous energy and used it to explode onto the stage with a handspring.

“Whoa!” Gracie gasped. “That was cool!”

“She’s fierce,” J. J. said, grinning. His prized pupil had the audience on their feet, clapping to the beat as she rocked it out. She kicked her feet straight in front of her, then shuffled left and right before executing a perfect back walkover.

“Was that the Cupid Shuffle?” Scarlett asked.

“I prefer the J. J. Shuffle,” the choreographer replied. “I gave it my own twist.” Rochelle suddenly jumped up on the toes of her sneakers and spun in a circle.

The judges jumped out of their seats and clapped enthusiastically.

“Well, whaddaya know, a standing O!” J. J. exclaimed. “Not bad, eh, Toni?”

Toni kept a perfectly straight face. “I’ll let you know when I see their scores.”

Rochelle raced back to the wings, still pumped from the routine.

“That was the best I have ever danced!” she told her teachers and teammates.

“Really? Because I saw sloppy feet and bent legs all over the place,” Toni corrected her. “It was exuberant, but far from technically perfect.”

Rochelle looked at J. J., hoping for a better review. “What did you think?”

“I think the Rochelle Shuffle may be the hot new dance,” he said, winking. “I saw those judges shaking their booties.”

Rochelle sighed. At least someone approved.

“Don’t take it personally,” Scarlett whispered. “Toni’s just distracted and upset over the whole St. Ignatius thing.”

Bria and Liberty reappeared. “I think we have a solution,” Bria said. She pointed to the stage, where Mrs. Montgomery was having a few words with the announcer.

“Oh no. Bri, what did you do?” Scarlett asked nervously.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer bellowed into the mike. “May I have your attention please? It seems we have some VIPs in the audience who would like to come up here and say a few words.”

“VIPs? What is he talking about?” Rochelle asked.

The announcer cleared his throat and held his hand in the air to silence the buzz in the audience. “Please, put your hands together for THE SUGAR DOLLS!”