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Breaking Big




  BREAKING

  BIG

  Penny Draper

  ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS

  Copyright © 2016 Penny Draper

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Draper, Penny, 1957–, author

  Breaking big / Penny Draper.

  (Orca limelights)

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN 978-1-4598-0923-9 (paperback).—ISBN 978-1-4598-0924-6 (pdf).—

  ISBN 978-1-4598-0925-3 (epub)

  I. Title. II. Series: Orca limelights

  PS8607.R36B74 2016 jC813’.6 C2015-904498-7

  C2015-904499-5

  First published in the United States, 2016

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2015946191

  Summary: When another ballet dancer’s injury lands him a major role, mischief-loving Robin must face his friends’ jealousy and the biggest challenge of his dance career in this novel for teens.

  Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.

  Cover design by Rachel Page

  Cover photography by Corbis

  ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS

  www.orcabook.com

  19 18 17 16 • 4 3 2 1

  To Clinton, who dared to dream big

  Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Acknowledgments

  One

  “Hurry up, enough already!”

  I add the final touches. All the pointe shoes are braided together and hanging from the ceiling, loose leotards and leggings are stuffed into the Lost and Found, and Sybille and Johanna’s lockers are stacked. I set Jeremy’s rat cage on a bench and put all the hairbrushes inside it—along with Ratinski the rat. He’s sure going to have fun for the next hour or so! Then a quick swipe of Vaseline on the combination locks. There’s no time to do anything else. I check to make sure the door is locked from the inside, then climb out the window onto Cam’s shoulders. He’s laughing so hard I think he’s going to drop me.

  “What took you so long?” croaks Jeremy in a whisper as I drop down to the ground and we hoof it away from the girls’ locker room. “I was sure we were going to get caught!”

  “I am an artiste,” I reply loftily, waggling my fingers. “Best prankster this side of the Rockies.”

  “The girls are going to go ballistic,” laughs Cam. “I can’t wait to see Miss High-and-Mighty’s face!”

  “Ah, yes, the lovely Odette, late for class.” I pretend to swoon. “The whole world may come to an end!”

  Jeremy checks the time. “We need to get to class.”

  “Yeah, we better be warming up when Mr. Colson arrives, so he won’t suspect anything,” I agree.

  “Oh, come on, Rob, get real,” Cam punches me in the arm. “Of course he’ll suspect you!”

  As we walk over to the rehearsal studio, I think about that. Yeah, it’s probably true. I do have a rep for this sort of thing. But honestly, the dancers at this school are so intense. I mean, ballet is great and all, but can’t everybody loosen up? I’ve been at the Premier Dance School for three years now, and some of these elite dancers can be real stiffs. Yeah, yeah, I know, ballet is all proper and solemn, and there are a lot of rules, but do you have to follow them all the time? I see absolutely no reason why dancers can’t crack a smile from time to time, so I’ve decided to make it my mission.

  It’s 9:46 AM. We’re first in the studio, as planned. We’re well into our warm-up when Mr. Colson arrives and looks around.

  “Where are the ladies?” he asks.

  We shrug our shoulders and keep warming up. Ten o’clock comes and goes, but no girls. Mr. Colson’s getting antsy. At exactly 10:22 the girls come roaring into class, shoe ribbons trailing, hair in loose ponytails instead of tight buns, warm-ups thrown over shoulders. Perfect! Even the marvelous Odette has a loose bobby pin.

  Charis is hopping on one foot as she tries to put on a shoe. “Sorry, Mr. Colson. We couldn’t get into our dressing room—the door was locked!”

  All eyes in the room turn to me. “What?” I ask innocently. Cam and Jeremy are doing face contortions, they’re trying so hard not to laugh. We’ll need to work on that. I used to practice innocent looks in the mirror. I can coach them.

  “Steady on, ladies,” says Mr. Colson. “Take a minute, catch your breath, and pull yourselves together. And get that hair fixed! If Miss Amelia comes in and sees all that hair flying about, there will be consequences!” Then he turns to the rest of us.

  “Men, the ladies will need some time to warm up, which is an opportunity for you. I know we don’t usually begin with the double tour en l’air, but let’s not waste the chance.” I get the evil eye. “Robin. Perhaps you could start.”

  Shoot. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I hate the double tour. Every male ballet dancer has to be able to do one. It’s the grand finale, the showy finish, the most important move of the whole dance for a guy. And I can’t do it. I mean, I can do everything else. Of all the guys in the pre-professional program, I’m one of the best. And that’s not bragging—it’s fact. But I can’t do a double tour.

  Odette is smirking as I take my place in the middle of the room. I ignore her. I am a rocket. I can fly.

  And I try to believe it as I go through the move in my head: feet in fifth position, plié, then fly straight up, rotating as I go. Twice. I take a deep breath and start the prep. Angling my right foot ninety degrees and my left ninety degrees in the opposite direction, I push my feet together, left heel touching right toe, right toe touching left heel. I bend my knees, energy shoots from my toes upward, and I’m flying, I’m turning…

  “Robin, I’ve told you again and again. Keep your hips level! If your weight isn’t the same on both feet, you’ll shoot sideways, not straight up.” Mr. Colson sighs. “You can’t fit the turns in if you’re sideways. Again.”

  And again, and again. Okay, I get that I’m being punished. But enough already!

  “Robin, that’s enough for today—you’re going to hurt yourself.” Finally. The girls are ready, and we all go to the barre. My thighs are on fire for the rest of the class. Maybe I should have listened to my dad and become a soccer player. It would have been easier than ballet school.

  “All right, everyone, remember that class is canceled this afternoon. The company is back from their tour, and they’ll need the large studio to prepare for tonight’s fundraiser. Dinner will be served early, and you are all to meet in the lobby by six o’clock to hand out donor forms and meet with patrons. Dress presentably. Thank you very much.”

  Jeremy bumps me on the way out of class. “Ya gotta breathe when you jump, man! You look
like a blocked pipe ready to blow!”

  I shove him back. “Hmm. Could be messy.”

  Cam catches up. “Yeah, I always knew you were full of it!”

  Jeremy busts up laughing.

  I lunge at Cam, who fakes a double tour to get out of the way. Then Charis gives me a shoulder punch while I’m off-balance.

  “Hey!” I shout.

  “Serves you right!” she says. “That stupid rat destroyed my hairbrush!”

  “As if a brush could help that rat’s nest you call hair,” Odette sneers as she rolls her eyes and pushes out the door. We all ignore her.

  “Come on, it was just a joke,” I say.

  “A joke? Do you see me laughing?” says Mavis. “I got Vaseline all over my leotard. It’ll never come out!”

  “Okay, I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m sorry!”

  Charis glares at me, but then—wait for it—yeah, I get a bit of a smile. I can always count on Charis.

  “You make me crazy, Robin Goodman,” she says, grinning at me. “You know I hate you?”

  “Nah, you love me. You all love me.”

  Mavis gives me another punch for that, but she’s smiling too. Mission accomplished. Except, of course, for odious Odette, but she’s beyond hope.

  “Hey, look!” interrupts Jeremy. “There they are.”

  We stop horsing around. All of us, even Odette, watch a bunch of the company dancers take over the studio. They’ve been on tour for a month, and it’s like all the energy goes out of this place when they’re away. This is what we’re here for, after all. To learn to be like them. To study and practice and totally wreck our bodies, all for the chance to take our place onstage and dance. As we watch, I’m looking for Noah Grayson. He’s a principal. In a dance company, that’s what the stars are called, the ones who get all the lead roles. Noah’s the most amazing athlete I’ve ever seen, even if at thirty-five he’s kind of old. But he isn’t there.

  “There’s Rick Mathews!” Sybille sighs dreamily. She leans closer to the studio window to get a better look. “Don’t you think he’s amazing?”

  Cam snorts.

  “Sybille, I thought you were in love with Daniel,” Johanna says, pointing to a company dancer warming up in torn green sweats. “Or was that last week?”

  “Dreamboat? Isn’t that what you called him?” Charis asks sweetly.

  Cam, Jeremy and I are all laughing now.

  “Eww. Of course not,” replies Sybille. “Didn’t you hear how he messed up on the tour? How could anybody fall for a guy who misses his entrance cue?”

  Unbelievable. It’s true that ballet dancers live in kind of a weird world, but only we can be so socially backward as to fall out of infatuation because of a missed cue.

  “When I get into the company, I’m counting on girls loving me for my body, not my entrance cues,” I state firmly.

  Sybille turns away from the window and gives my body a long, slow look. “Good luck with that,” she says. Charis bursts out laughing.

  Very funny.

  “As if Rick Mathews would ever look at you, Sybille,” says Odette nastily. “You still don’t get that students are invisible to the company?”

  “I can dream, can’t I?”

  “Leave her alone, Odette,” Charis says.

  Odette shrugs her shoulders. “I’m only trying to be realistic.”

  “No, you’re a downer, that’s what you are,” Sybille says.

  “Don’t pay any attention to her,” says Charis, matching Odette glare for glare. “I never do.”

  Two

  We watch the rehearsal for a while, until Jeremy says, “Let’s get out of here. We’ve got an afternoon off. What do you want to do?”

  Cam’s eyes light up. “Let’s go skateboarding!”

  We knock fists. He’s unbelievable on a skateboard. Half my size, Cam is kind of like a rubber ball, flexible and fast. He’s only marking time here at the ballet school. What he really wants is to be an aerial-silk performer in the circus, and dance is kind of like cross-training for him. Jeremy’s different. He comes from a ballet family. Everybody in his family dances, so it’s like his birthright or something.

  Me? I don’t have to dance, I just want to. It was a tough sell in my family at first, considering I have two older brothers who are heavy into sports. But Mom’s the law in our house, and she was on my side right from the day I announced I wanted to dance. It’s all her fault anyway, since she was the one who dragged us boys to see The Nutcracker one Christmas. She thought we needed to get cultured. After that, my brothers teased me about being a girl, but it didn’t last long. Turns out that even though I’m the youngest and a “sissy dancer,” I’m the strongest. Now that I can take either one of them, nobody’s laughing. Dancing makes me feel strong. Not Incredible Hulk strong, like my football-star brothers. More like Superman strong, as if I could leap off tall buildings. What could be cooler? And anyway, I’m good at it. Even my brothers get that.

  “Skateboarding? Not me,” says Jeremy. “My mom will kill me if I break my ankle.”

  Well, he’s right about that. Jeremy’s mom is kind of fierce, like a grown-up Odette. Poor guy. I can’t even imagine it.

  “Let’s go downtown and act like real people for a change. Get a coffee. Go to a store or something,” says Charis.

  “Oh yeah, shopping. I’m so excited! Let’s go, boys!” I say in a high falsetto voice. “You’re kidding me, right? Waste an afternoon on shopping?”

  “Then how about the movies?” Sybille suggests. “I love the movies!”

  “Yeah, why not?” agrees Jeremy quickly.

  Really? The movies? Then I get it. Jeremy, as usual, is looking like a basset hound as he casts his sad, lovesick eyes Sybille’s way. It’s unbelievable that a girl who so badly wants to be in love can never see the guy right in front of her. The same guy who manhandles her body, touches her in very personal places and sees her half naked day in and day out. I don’t get it, but then, I don’t get Jeremy on this one either. Sybille’s just plain flaky. But a friend’s a friend, so the movies it is. I’ll do a little maneuvering to make sure Jeremy gets to sit next to her. Give them a dark theater, and who knows what might happen? Cam clearly knows what I’m thinking and looks my way, shaking his head. Jer is useless when it comes to women.

  “Well, have fun, kiddies,” Odette calls over her shoulder as she sweeps off down the hall. “Charis, I know you and your little friends need to have your playtime.”

  Charis responds by staring heavenward as if asking for patience.

  We leave the school grounds so seldom it’s almost an adventure to take the bus. It’s crowded, so we have to stand. The swaying of the bus feels interesting. I close my eyes and sway with it, feeling the transfer of weight and the way my core takes over when the bus turns a corner. I pick up the motion in my shoulders, exaggerate it a bit, then…

  Charis digs me in the ribs. “Try to act normal,” she hisses.

  “Hey!” My eyes snap open. “What about him?” I nod to where Cam is standing, holding on to a pole and humming. Loudly.

  “He’s got headphones on—people will think he’s singing to the music. You…you look weird. And you’re tall. You stand out more.”

  “Sorry for living,” I drawl.

  It’s true that when we’re out in the real world, we dancers look a little odd, especially when we walk. My brothers remind me of this regularly. They call it the duck walk. Dancers tend to walk as if they’re in first position—hips turned out, heels together, toes out. But I don’t think we look like ducks. I prefer to think we’re noticeable bec
ause we’re the only people who are standing up straight.

  Piling off the bus, we argue about which movie to see, but Cam and I know Jer is going to pick whatever Sybille wants, so we’ll be outnumbered. Whatever. Mavis slows as we pass the popcorn stand, and Johanna and Charis have to grab her by the arms and steer her past the temptation. Popcorn bloats. We shuffle into the theater, and I try, I really do, but in the end, all the maneuvering in the world can’t help Jeremy if he refuses to be helped. He ends up sitting behind, not beside, Sybille.

  “Why don’t you just tell her you like her?” I whisper as the lights dim.

  “And be shot down?” he replies. “The girls will all gang up on me.”

  Unfortunately, he’s right about that. They’re so close, dating one would be like dating them all, which is a really good reason not to date anybody.

  On the way home, we get off the bus a couple of stops before the school to check out the skate park. Cam can hardly bear to watch without getting antsy, so in no time he’s negotiated the loan of a board. We’re not his only cheering section. Pretty much everybody stops to watch. He’s that good.

  “Thanks, man,” Cam says as he hands back the board. “I needed that.”

  “Honestly, what are you doing in ballet school?” I have to ask.

  “Apparently, I need to improve my flexibility and body awareness,” he replies with a grin. “At least, that’s what my coach said. Jer’s my model for that. And if I’m going to fly through the air while dangling from an itty-bitty piece of fabric, I have to work on my confidence. That’s what you’re for. So when I’m a circus star, you can say it’s all because of you.”

  * * *

  Back at school, it’s fish and veggies for dinner in the cafeteria. Mavis gets there first and nails down our table. She waves to show us where she is, and we all settle in with our trays.

  “Rumor has it there’s going to be a big announcement tonight at the gala. I bet they’re going to tell us what the next production will be,” says Charis. “I’m taking bets, a dollar a guess. Who’s in?”