Dance Team by Charnan Simon Page A

splits are sloppy—clean them up. Berit, your switch leaps are getting better, but they’re still not good enough to win us that trophy. Cate, you’re half a beat off when we go into the second V-formation. Trez, fantastic jazz layout!”
    Camilla paused, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe I was off the hook this practice.
    But no. Camilla looked straight at me and shook her head. “Izzy, I don’t know where you learned to do triple pirouettes, but they’re pathetic. I took a chance by bringing you on as a freshman, but I’ll tell you one thing right now. I’m not taking you to regionals with those pirouettes!”
    My cheeks burned. I’d always had trouble with triple pirouettes, but surely they weren’t that bad?
    Olivia patted my shoulder as Camilla went on to point out the weaknesses of other team members. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “Pirouette turns are hard. We’ll practice together. You’ll be fine!”
    I felt a rush of gratitude. Olivia’s the only other freshman on the dance team, and we stick together. She’s a much better dancer than I am, but she never holds it over me or makes me feel bad. She’s a good friend inside and outside of dance team.
    I turned my attention back to what Camilla was saying. “Okay, one last thing. I don’t think our regular after-school practices are going to be enough. From now on, I’m adding before-school practices on Mondays and Wednesdays to help you guys shape up. Be here at 6:45 A.M. sharp!”
    Groans echoed all around. Camilla ignored them. “See you tomorrow morning!” she said sweetly as she headed to the gym door. “Bye!”

I
    was glum as we gathered up our backpacks and dance bags. “Camilla hates me,” I said as we walked to the bus stop. “She’s sorry she ever let me on the team!”
    Olivia laughed and poked my side. “Oh, poor Izzy,” she teased. “One little bit of criticism and you’re a goner. It’s never personal with Camilla. She’s just the most competitive person on the planet. She wants to win! Now, how about you invite me to your house? We can eat some of your mom’s cookies and nail those pirouettes.”
    My mom does make good cookies. She says it’s her one bit of domesticity. Mom illustrates children’s books for a living. She spends most of her time at a drawing table in the sunny kitchen alcove. Besides the fact that she doesn’t really like housekeeping, time tends to get away from Mom when she’s drawing.
    That afternoon she was hunched over a pen-and-ink drawing of baby ducklings. “Hey, girls,” she said when we came in. “What do you think? Did I get the waddle right?”
    Mom always gets the waddle right. I wish I could draw like she does.
    â€œLooks super,” Olivia said cheerfully. “Do you have any cookies?”
    Olivia’s not shy.
    Mom’s face brightened. “I do!” she said. “I got stuck this morning and had to take a baking break. Oatmeal-butterscotch, extra butterscotch chips, no nuts.”
    Mom put down her drawing pen and came over to the kitchen table to join us in a snack. She listened sympathetically when I told her what Camilla said about my pirouettes.
    â€œMaybe Leah could help you practice,” she suggested when I paused for breath.
    â€œWho’s Leah?” asked Olivia through a mouthful of cookie.
    I hesitated. Leah Velasco had been my next-door neighbor at our old house. She was two years older than I was, but we had been friends since we were babies. She also happened to be the captain of the Northside High dance team. Leah was a fantastic dancer, and a big reason I’d taken dance classes all my life. She knew I sort of idolized her. She had encouraged me to follow in her footsteps and join Northside’s dance team.
    But things had changed in the last year. Leah wasn’t as happy as I