Natural Talent II
an excerpt

Natural Talent, Volume 2
Subtitle: A Star on the Rise

I quickly whipped through my double pirouette and stepped into what I felt was my best arabesque of the summer. Behind me, I heard a muttered swear word. Did Ms. Aeling hear Yoli? Of course not.

"Miss Stanton, one would think after eight weeks, you'd be able to step into that arabesque without bending your knee."

Yeah. A strict "no swearing" policy in the studio, with an accompanying fine, and Ms. Aeling notices my bent knee instead. I might not have cared, except Yoli was between me and my least favorite teacher.

"Yes, ma'am." I took a couple of practice steps onto pointe to get myself back into the habit of doing it correctly. If Ms. Lemert were here, I would have gotten away with just a gentle reminder. But she was missing the last week of the summer program to attend a dance teachers' conference.

I'd been practicing in pointe shoes for only the last couple of weeks. Ms. Lemert felt I could handle them, and wanted to be able to have me dance with my classmates in ballet performances. At first, I was excited. I'd seen Nicola's pointe shoes, had watched her dance in them. They looked so pretty! The shiny pink satin gave them a special allure. The truth was, though, they were the most painful shoes I'd ever owned. Angela and Nicola were both excited to hear I was being allowed to go on pointe, and gave me all of their tips. Even with their help, I wasn't quite able to get my shoes comfortable enough to dance in.

Ms. Aeling called the small class back together to try to exercise again. I concentrated on my steps and tried to ignore the tingling that I had learned came with a newly-forming blister. I made it to the pirouette, but before I could step out of it into the arabesque, an arm hit me. The force knocked me off pointe and stumbling a couple of steps away from Yoli. I glared at her, knowing if I said anything, I'd be the one in trouble. Yoli had taken to "accidentally" running into me when Ms. Aeling took over the class, and I wasn't amused.

The class consisted of the Ducks and a few incoming freshmen who all followed Yoli around like little ducklings. I was certainly not going to get any support from them. With a deep breath, I collected my thoughts quickly and finished the combination.

Frustrated with my inability to dance, Ms. Aeling ended class there for the day. I grabbed my ballet slippers and flew out the studio door.

A hand caught my arm, "Hey, slow down there." I turned to see Joe waiting for me, as he often was after class. He took one look at my face and smiled sympathetically, "Bad day?"

"You have no idea. I can't wait for Ms. Lemert to get back!"

"When's she coming back?" Joe started walking with me toward the dressing room.

"Not until school starts. I'm stuck with Ms. Aeling for the rest of the week."

He gave me a quick hug. "Go change, and then let's go do something this afternoon. I'm bored."

It had become our routine. Joe got his driver's license over the summer, so he liked to pick me up from dance workshop and hang out. I quickly changed into my tank top and jeans and pulled my hair out of its perfect little coil. It had really grown out over the summer, and my ponytail now reached the middle of my back. I brushed it out quickly, grabbed my dance bag, and ran out the door. Yoli always glared at me when I left, and I was starting to get pretty good at ignoring her.

Joe was sitting against the wall a short distance down the hallway, writing in his music notebook. He'd been doing that a lot this summer, too. I tried asking him at one point what he was working on, but he'd always just shake his head and shut his notebook. He heard the dressing room door squeak, as he always did, and looked up. The notebook was snapped shut, and he stood, "Ready to go?" I smiled. "I thought we'd go to the arcade. They have a new game I want to try out."

I rolled my eyes. He knew I wasn't a fan of video games, but he kept trying to get me to try them out. Like a good friend, I always humored him, but it never ended well.

If he noticed my reaction, he didn't say anything. He just took my dance bag and we walked out to his car.

The new game Joe was trying out was this weird game where you had to play along on a guitar-shaped controller to songs. It looked completely stupid, but he was having fun. While I sat there trying to decide how I was going to ignore Yoli for the rest of the workshop, he was challenging other kids and doing pretty well at the game. A little girl who looked a little younger than us finally beat him, and he all but skipped over to where I was watching.

"It's pretty fun. Not much like playing my guitar, but still worth playing. I should bring Michael down here and make him play it." I smirked. Michael had a hard time refusing any of Joe's more reasonable requests, and there was no doubt in my mind that Michael would consider this a reasonable request.

"When is he coming back?" I knew I'd have to keep that night open to watch the two take over the arcade.

"Next week." Subconsciously, Joe flipped his phone open and closed. "Haven't you heard from him?"

"No. He stopped sending me messages about a week or so ago." I hadn't actually thought about it, but it really had been almost two weeks since I'd heard from Michael at all. That wasn't like him at all. I was tempted to pull out my phone, just to make sure I hadn't missed something.

Joe echoed my unspoken concerns. "That's weird. I thought for sure you'd be hearing from him, too."

"Maybe he's just busy," I shrugged it off.

"Maybe," Joe's voice trailed off, and I knew he was really worried about his best friend. Michael had been away at a workshop for a month, the longest the two had ever been separated since they met when they were little kids. Joe was the person Michael felt most comfortable around, and it only made sense that Joe would feel a bit protective of his slightly older best friend. It was actually cute. "I should call him later. Check up on him."

"Let him be. Maybe he's found friends there."

Joe shot me a dirty look, "Lindy, you know Michael."

"Yeah, I know Michael." I knew what Joe meant. It was pretty unlikely that shy Michael had found himself a new friend.

Joe looked at his phone one last time and shoved it into his pocket. "So, Mom wants you to come over for dinner. Think your parents will let you?"

They had every other time the Langfords had invited me over during the summer, and with a quick call home, I was off to spend my evening with Joe as well.

It had become my routine.

==

Everyone was back right before school started, and we spent the night before classes started at the coffee shop.

Michael has been the first to come home, with stories of other performers he met at his workshop. Many of them made me very glad to be at Broughton, becasue they sounded even crazier than the students who scared me last year. Angela demanded to know why he hadn't replied to any of her emails, and he responded that he never really had much access to a computer during the workshop.

"And before that?" Angela demanded. Michael smiled, embarrassment creeping into his cheeks.

Miguel had taken an art program at a nearby university before landing in a young artists-in-residence program two states over. He came back with pictures of some of the pieces he'd collaborated on, and with a few small prints of pieces he'd completed. Like his set designs, each picture was a gorgeous story come to life in two dimensions. It made me feel bad that he had decided to stay at Broughton instead of transferring to Milhouse, the visual arts private school in town. It wasn't hard to see why he didn't regret his decision, though. He had been holding Angela's hand ever since he walked into the coffee shop.

Angela was so excited telling us about Ireland and showing us the pictures she took before she left. She'd been sending us all pictures every week since she left, but most of them were of the studios and the theater she performed in. She even included a couple of pictures of some of the cute musicians she'd met, but I was pretty sure she only sent those to me. The newer pictures were ones she'd taken around the town she was studying in and a couple of the nearby ones, the ones she was able to visit right before she left.

Nicola, the last one to return, sat quietly. She had spent her summer in New York, and had been planning to spend time with her brother. Daniil's schedule had never given them a chance, and she was clearly more upset about it than she wanted any of us to realize. Her shaking voice was a dead giveaway, though.

Joe deflected any attempt to find out what he'd been doing all summer by telling everyone about mine. He told everyone how well I'd done in workshop, and about Yoli going after me when she thought no one was looking. His descriptions of everything that had gone on got a surprised look out of everyone, including me.

"What? Did you just sit and watch the dance workshop?"

"No," he grinned. "I did other things, too."

"Like?" I prodded.

"You'll see." It was the same cryptic answer he'd been giving me for the last month. Michael tried to conceal a smirk at his best friend's behavior by taking a sip of his tea. Joe playfully glared at him.

==

My mother was kind enough to let me go to the first day of my sophomore year with Angela instead of going to school with my father. We got to school, ditched our dance bags in the dressing room, and grabbed our new schedules. My grades in social studies hadn't been high enough to let me move up to the sophomore/junior class with Angela, so I was stuck with the same monotone instructor. I felt stupid, but Angela reminded me that both she and Joe had been in that class last year and assured me I'd be fine.

My confidence waned as I walked into the room and found only a handful of sophomores I recognized, among them Yoli and Sasha. I looked for a seat as far from them as I could find. As I passed them, I heard something much like a music box. I stopped for a moment trying to figure out where it was coming from, but quickly realized I didn't want to know. Over my shoulder, I heard someone ask Yoli if her hat was making the noise.

As I turned to look at the hat in question, she replied, "Yes, it plays our theme music."

"Theme music?" The freshman looked at her like she was crazy.

She just smiled smugly.

The hat was a ball cap with a rubber duck surrounded by flames. It was quite possibly the ugliest hat I'd ever seen. I wondered if she'd possibly hit her head during the week in between the workshop and school, but decided i really didn't care.

I took my place, just in time for the teacher to start organizing us into groups for our first project.

==

The dressing room was packed by the time I walked in. I quickly changed and ran to the studio, shoes in hand, and tried to find somewhere to sit. I hadn't started in the dance program last year, so I had no idea how they started the school year. Realizing that every student in the dance program was in the studio, I tried to find Angela and Nicola but I couldn't find either of them. I finally took a seat in the far corner of the room.

Ms. Lemert and Ms. Aeling chatted by the stereo for a few minutes before Ms. Lemert quieted us all down. She welcomed us to Broughton and then explained for the benefit of the freshmen and transfer students how the program worked. I was surprised to discover that the freshmen actually learned four styles of dance: ballet, modern, jazz, and tap. I'd only learned jazz and tap in freshman class because I only spent one semester in the class, and then had to pick up ballet along the way. Even over the summer, I only spent a couple of weeks on both ballet or modern. Apparently, I was supposed to pick one of the four styles to focus on for the rest of my years at Broughton, but no one had warned me of that, and I had no idea how to choose one over any of the others.

Ms. Lemert then announced that we would all be auditioning for both the Fall Festival and the Broughton Belles at the end of the week. Some of my classmates whispered excitedly among themselves. I just sat there wondering how the group got such a lame name, until I remembered Nicola telling me last year that the Belles were Broughton's prestigious dance troupe. It made no difference to me. Someone still trying to learn the basics of dance would never make it into an elite group.

The members of the class were then asked to move out to the non-mirrored walls of the studio, and I got my first glimpse of the Broughton Belles. Some of them performed a light, airy ballet for us. One of the dances looked like the dancers were flailing helplessly about in time with the music. Occasionally, they would flail the same way at the same time. It was hard to watch. The last dance was an energetic tap dance that was incredibly fun! We applauded as the groups finished.

Ms. Lemert sent pairs of Belles to different spots in the room, and the rest of us were divided up among them. To my great relief, I ended up in the group of sophomores that was gathering around Nicola and Angela. They would be leading my audition pod all week! I looked around at my group, feeling sorry for most of them. Most of my classmates had spent the better part of their lives studying, and it had showed in their performances last year. I was going to be the one hiding in the back, hoping I wouldn't forget a step or hit someone.

It was worse than it looked, too. Yoli was in my group.

Suddenly, I wasn't looking so forward to a week of preparing for the auditions.

==

Lunch was quiet. Miguel had already vanished off to the theater. Michael and Nicola were both trapped in meetings. Joe was nowhere to be found, and Angela ate quickly before racing off to sign up for her first private lesson. I picked at my salad for a bit, remembering my first day of school last year. I'd eaten alone that day, too, but only because I didn't know anybody at Broughton. This year was definitely off to a better start than last year. I sprinkled croutons over the top of the salad and tried to mix them in.

"How sad. Daddy's Little Princess is sitting alone." I looked up at the three people I knew would be standing in front of me. To my great surprise, only two of them were standing there. Yoli lightly rested her fingers on the chair across from me, "What's the matter? Did everyone realize how pathetic you were over the summer?"

Joe appeared out of nowhere and dropped breathlessly into the chair beside mine, moving it a few inches closer to mine. "Hi, sweetie. Sorry I'm late." He leaned over an kissed my cheek. I blushed for a quick moment, realizing Joe had heard Yoli's attempted insult. "Oh, hi, Yoli. Lose a Duck?" His grin was utterly priceless.

Yoli's face turned nearly the color of the flames on her hat. "I know where all my Ducks are," she hissed and walked off.

He waited until Yoli and Sasha were safely out of earshot. "I'm sorry, Lindy."

"No, it's okay. I understand." The wave of relief that flooded his face almost made me regret his apology, until I realized he hadn't moved his chair back and didn't seem interested in moving it any time soon.

We finished lunch at the mostly empty table, our elbows nearly touching.

==

Where my grade in social studies had been lacking, my science grade landed me in the sophomore/junior class with most of my friends and only one of the Ducks. I wasn't amused when the teacher paired me with Kat for the lab work. I sat down next to her, just waiting for the insults to start, but she smiled sweetly and went back to reading over the first lab.

I waited a moment longer. She finished reading the lab and started organizing our table. "Oh, I'm sorry," she suddenly remembered I was there, "do you want to read this over before we get started? I'll get everything while you read."

My jaw threatened to hit the ground as I took the lab from her. She was being nice to me. In the back of my mind, a little voice kept warning me to be on my guard.

Right as I finished reading the experiment, she came back with our supplies. We spent the rest of the hour working together to run the experiment and recording our observations. By the time the bell rang, I'd completely forgotten she was one of the Ducks. When she picked up her embroidered book bag, she put the atrocious hat on her head and walked out. I sank back onto my stool in a daze.

Miguel patted my hand a minute later, "Hey, we're going to be late." I snapped out of my fog and looked at the clock. He was right. We had two minutes to get to the main theater.

==

It didn't appear to matter that we were actually a minute late. The technical theater teachers had apparently decided to just do an orientation for the new students, leaving the older students to start cleaning up the theater in preparation for the new school year.

The nice thing about being a sophomore was that I could pick what team I wanted to work with first. It meant that I could put off working on props until the Spring Gala if I wanted. Everyone signed in on the lists on the workbenches to show what group they wanted to work on. I noticed Miguel signing up under lighting.

"Why aren't you doing set design first?" I asked as I wrote my name under his.

"They told me I can do set design twice and ignore one of the other teams, but I can't do set design first. I apparently set the bar too high for everyone else last year." He laughed softly, disbelief edging the sound.

"Well, I know a lot of the guys on this lighting team. You'll really like them!" I had noticed that the lighting team I'd worked with last year was signed up to run the lights for the Fall Festival.

"All right. Let's go, then." The whole climb up to the catwalk was filled with talk about missing Michael, our faithful, often absent third, who was too busy to take technical theater.

Just as I thought, Miguel fell in quickly with the team, who were quite excited to have both me and the fabulous freshman set designer on their team. Before long, the six of us had the storage deck cleaned up and organized, and were sitting on the catwalk chatting. Once again, the four of them worked at a summer performance festival, and had many stories about what they'd done and who they'd met.

I listened to them, but my attention wandered down to the stage. I'd seen it wide open and stripped down before, but from the catwalk, it looked like it could have been set for a very bleak play, like one of Michael's favorite anime brought to the stage.

"Lindy, we're headed to Couer d'Arte after school. You in?" Noah asked.

I turned to Miguel, "Want to go?"

Actually, he grinned, "I promised Angela I'd spend time with her this afternoon. Sorry."

I had to smile. "No, it's cool." They hadn't told anyone yet, but it was fairly clear that Angela and Miguel had started dating at some point over the summer. "I'm in, though."

We all made our back to the stage right as the bell rang. Michael was standing center stage, looking frustrated, when we walked backstage to sign out.

"There you are!" The entire lighting team turned around. Michael's voice had actually become deeper over the summer, and it was a commanding tone. "Come on."

"Wait, Michael. I have plans with these-" It didn't seem to matter. Michael grabbed my arm and dragged me off. I waved apologetically to my crew, who looked like they were all on the verge of laughter.

==

Michael dragged me back to the academic wing where Joe was sitting and writing again. Michael stopped right in front of his best friend, "I've got her. Let's go."

Joe looked up at him in surprise, and then looked at me, "I can't believe you went along with this."

"Went along with what?" Joe chuckled at that. "I had plans, and Michael dragged me away from them."

Joe stood, "Bad Michael. Let the pretty girl go." I had to fight to not blush, even though Michael wasn't doing as Joe asked. My mind was racing. Joe thought I was pretty. He was well known for chasing every girl he thought was pretty, but he had yet to chase me. That realization was enough to let me get myself back under control. "I hope he didn't cause too much trouble."

"Not really. The lighting crew is a pretty understanding bunch." I finally managed to wrench my arm free from Michael's grasp. "So, where are we headed?"

"There's apparently some sort of anime viewing at the community college, and we're being dragged along." Joe slung his backpack over his shoulder and offered me his arm.

"Ah." There didn't seem to be an appropriate response to either being kidnapped and forced to watch cartoons with my friends or to Joe's gallant offer. Realizing Nicola would kill me if I so much as thought about flirting with Joe Langford, I took the safest option and dropped my dance bag into my free hand as I agreed to join the guys for the evening.

==

The next morning started with a discussions within our small groups about the reading that had been assigned for homework. My group was full of people who weren't awake first thing in the morning, so our discussion left a lot to be desired, and the teacher let us know that every time he walked past us.

I was incredibly grateful when the bell rang and I could head to the studio. I quickly changed into my clothes and found my audition pod in the main studio. Everyone was warming up, and I found myself a spot to limber up.

Angela and Nicola walked in right before the bell, and gathered us around them. "All right, my name is Angela and this is Nicola. We'll be your pod leaders during this audition period. You'll learn the dances with your pod. You'll practice with your pod. You'll audition with your pod." I hadn't had the best luck with being a pod person last year, but Angela had assured me on the phone that Ms. Lemert had changed the procedure for audition weeks so Ms. Aeling could never screw up a freshman class ever again.

Nicola moved to the back of the group as Angela continued, "We're going to move at a fast pace, so try to keep up and let me know if you need to see something again." She made us spread out and then turned away from us and called directions over her shoulder. I could tell immediately that we were learning the ballet piece first, because Angela's directions weren't in English. Despite the little bit of ballet I'd studied with Angela and Nicola last year and in the workshop over the summer, most of what Angela said went over my head. Fortunately, she moved after giving us the direction. I had to watch her do each move to figure out what I had to do.

Once she'd led us through several of these moves, she made us do them in a sequence. We did the same sequence several times while Angela clapped out a rhythm. Behind us, Nicola called out people for not doing things correctly. My name rang out over the group a couple of times, but nowhere near as many times as Yoli's.

Angela continued teaching us until we had a sequence that took a few minutes to complete. It was easier than it had looked. Once Angela started clapping, I just had to worry about myself and nothing else. The sequence was beautiful and fun. But the fun stopped when Angela announced we were going to set the sequence to music. I'd had to rehearse to music last year, but we only did combinations over the summer so I was feeling out of shape in that department. I knew I'd be the laughing joke of the group once the music began.

It turned out be far easier to stay with the music than I expected. I could hear something that reminded me of Angela's clapping, and I followed it. Amazingly, I stayed right with the rest of my pod. We had to practice the dance a couple of times to music before Angela and Nicola decided to start teaching us the next dance.

It was the flailing dance, which Angela identified as a modern dance, and it was far more complicated than the ballet piece. I had fun trying to follow Angela's movements when she was teaching it to us, and then trying to keep up with her clapping. It was tiring. Finally, when Angela felt we had it mostly down, she finally turned on the music.

I hadn't noticed that Yoli was moving closer to my spot at the back of the pod, but before I knew it she hit me and then smiled darkly at me. I'd spent most of my life playing soccer. A little roughhousing during a game was no big deal. I'd been at Broughton just long enough to know that no form of dancing was a contact sport. I ignored her and focused on getting through the dance. The hit was followed by a kick, despite the fact there were no kicks in the modern dance. She then hit me again, and then landed a back hand on my bare arm with a snap.

"Yolanda, one more of those, and I'll have you pulled from this audition." Nicola's voice rang out from behind us. I had no idea when she had gotten back there because I knew she started the dance next to Angela.

"You don't have the authority," Yoli retorted smugly. Nicola didn't respond, but the look on her face would have sent even the scariest thugs running for cover. Yolanda moved farther away from me, and didn't come in contact with me for the rest of the hour.

As we left class, Yoli came up behind me, "If you get me kicked out of this audition, I will make your life miserable." She blew past me into the locker room.

"If I get you kicked out? Looks like you're taking care of that one on your own."

==

I had very little appetite after class, so I was just sitting there nibbling at my apple when Angela sat down. "What are you doing after school?" Her bright green eyes sparkled with a friendly mischief.

"Well, I have to study for a potential pop quiz in social studies."

"Well, scratch that! You're coming to the pink studio after school!"

"What?" I was certain I hadn't heard her correctly.

""We're going to help you get into the Belles, but you need to meet us after school!"

"Us?" The conversation still wasn't sinking in.

"Yeah, Nicola and I are going to work with you."

"Why?" Couldn't I just fail on my own? I was good at that at Broughton.

Angela laughed. It was the warmest sound I'd ever heard. "No, silly! You were really getting into the dances this morning, and we want you to be able to do them well!"

"As opposed to doing them like a Neanderthal?"

Blowing her dark bangs out of her face, Angela looked me square in the eyes. "Just be there, okay?"

"I don't know. Dad and I usually go home right after school, and the lighting crew will probably want to go out for coffee, and Joe and Michael kidnapped me yesterday..."

"I'll talk to him. It won't be a problem. He will probably be thrilled that you're working so hard to get into Belles." She seemed so certain of herself.

"Do you ever not get your way?" I was pretty sure I knew the answer to that question.

"Oh, sure. Sometimes. I think...," she admitted, grinning almost sheepishly while she stabbed at some poor, defenseless leaf of lettuce.

I wasn't sure whether to laugh or to be afraid. In fact, the only thing I was sure of was that my dance tutorials were already starting back up, and it was only the second day of the school year.