moms signed us up for dance classes at the Oak Bay rec center when we were five. We’ve been dancing together for ten years now, and we’ve been BFFS all that time, so I know that even though Angela did the whole dance absolutely perfectly, she’ll work on her moves and correct herself until the moment we walk onstage. Angela loves to dance, but performances make her nervous.
“You were perfect.” I take a swig from my water bottle and head to my cubbyhole for my shoes and coat. I never take Angela’s doubts too seriously. She’ll be fantastic once she gets onto the stage.
She shrugs and shakes herself from head to toe. “We’ll see.”
“The festival’s going to be amazing. We’re going to be fantastic. Everything’s going to be awesome!” I say. The spirit of the dance is still in me, and it makes me jump around the room. Nini and Sarit laugh beside me.
“You’re really looking forward to the festival, aren’t you?” Sarit says.
“I am.” There’s no use pretending—I’ve wanted to be a professional dancer for at least the past three years, and they all know it. This is the first festival we’ve been invited to, and it makes me feel like shouting with happiness.
“Let’s go before we miss the bus,” Angela says.
Girls are packing up around us, and Angela and I pull on our shoes and coats, but before we’re finished, Amala comes into the doorway and says, “One last thing, girls. I have a surprise for you.” She takes a deep breath. “Dana Sajala has asked me to choose three girls from my classes to join her studio.”
The lobby goes silent. We stand frozen, water bottles partway to our lips, shoes half pulled onto our feet, coats hanging off our arms, as the news sinks in. Then Sarit says, “Dana Sajala?” and the spell is broken. My heart pounds so loudly I can hear it in my ears.
“You mean to perform with her troupe for the festival?” Nini asks.
“Yes—and continue on as one of her students.” Amala’s smile is super wide, because she knows the opportunity she’s offering. Dana Sajala is one of the best-known belly dancers in the world. A chance to dance with her would be the perfect start to any career.
“Who have you chosen?” Nini asks. It’s what we all want to know, and I can almost feel everyone sucking in their breath.
“I haven’t yet. I’ll tell you next week.” Amala holds up her hands and laughs as the noise level rises. “No, don’t ask me now. I’m not saying anything more until I’ve spoken to Dana and made my final decision.”
When Amala heads back into the studio, leaving us girls alone, it takes a minute before we start moving again. The fabric of my coat brushes roughly against my arms, and my feet feel squished in my Toms. There’s murmuring all around me, and Sarit says something to Angela as we walk out the door, but I don’t hear what it is, because a voice in my head is shouting, Dana Sajala! Dana Sajala!
It’s a chance of a lifetime!
Two
“S he has to choose us!” I say to Angela as we wait for the bus home. The tangy ocean air fills me with energy, and since the music from class is still in my mind, I bust out a few hip circles in time to the beat. Two boys standing behind us laugh. Angela glances back at the boys and shuffles her feet.
“Ignore them. Dana Sajala is taking on students, and we are going to be two of them!” I grab Angela’s hands and swing her around, but she resists and pulls her hands away. “What?” I ask.
Before Angela can respond, a bunch of kids from a nearby school’s basketball team crowd into the bus shelter. Then the bus pulls up, and we all jostle on. I head for a free seat, but there is an old lady behind me, so I step aside and give it to her. The aisle is crowded, and somehow Angela ends up halfway down the bus from me. The basketball kids call to one another along the aisle, and one at the back says something that makes all of them laugh. It’s infectious, and I laugh with them, though
“You were perfect.” I take a swig from my water bottle and head to my cubbyhole for my shoes and coat. I never take Angela’s doubts too seriously. She’ll be fantastic once she gets onto the stage.
She shrugs and shakes herself from head to toe. “We’ll see.”
“The festival’s going to be amazing. We’re going to be fantastic. Everything’s going to be awesome!” I say. The spirit of the dance is still in me, and it makes me jump around the room. Nini and Sarit laugh beside me.
“You’re really looking forward to the festival, aren’t you?” Sarit says.
“I am.” There’s no use pretending—I’ve wanted to be a professional dancer for at least the past three years, and they all know it. This is the first festival we’ve been invited to, and it makes me feel like shouting with happiness.
“Let’s go before we miss the bus,” Angela says.
Girls are packing up around us, and Angela and I pull on our shoes and coats, but before we’re finished, Amala comes into the doorway and says, “One last thing, girls. I have a surprise for you.” She takes a deep breath. “Dana Sajala has asked me to choose three girls from my classes to join her studio.”
The lobby goes silent. We stand frozen, water bottles partway to our lips, shoes half pulled onto our feet, coats hanging off our arms, as the news sinks in. Then Sarit says, “Dana Sajala?” and the spell is broken. My heart pounds so loudly I can hear it in my ears.
“You mean to perform with her troupe for the festival?” Nini asks.
“Yes—and continue on as one of her students.” Amala’s smile is super wide, because she knows the opportunity she’s offering. Dana Sajala is one of the best-known belly dancers in the world. A chance to dance with her would be the perfect start to any career.
“Who have you chosen?” Nini asks. It’s what we all want to know, and I can almost feel everyone sucking in their breath.
“I haven’t yet. I’ll tell you next week.” Amala holds up her hands and laughs as the noise level rises. “No, don’t ask me now. I’m not saying anything more until I’ve spoken to Dana and made my final decision.”
When Amala heads back into the studio, leaving us girls alone, it takes a minute before we start moving again. The fabric of my coat brushes roughly against my arms, and my feet feel squished in my Toms. There’s murmuring all around me, and Sarit says something to Angela as we walk out the door, but I don’t hear what it is, because a voice in my head is shouting, Dana Sajala! Dana Sajala!
It’s a chance of a lifetime!
Two
“S he has to choose us!” I say to Angela as we wait for the bus home. The tangy ocean air fills me with energy, and since the music from class is still in my mind, I bust out a few hip circles in time to the beat. Two boys standing behind us laugh. Angela glances back at the boys and shuffles her feet.
“Ignore them. Dana Sajala is taking on students, and we are going to be two of them!” I grab Angela’s hands and swing her around, but she resists and pulls her hands away. “What?” I ask.
Before Angela can respond, a bunch of kids from a nearby school’s basketball team crowd into the bus shelter. Then the bus pulls up, and we all jostle on. I head for a free seat, but there is an old lady behind me, so I step aside and give it to her. The aisle is crowded, and somehow Angela ends up halfway down the bus from me. The basketball kids call to one another along the aisle, and one at the back says something that makes all of them laugh. It’s infectious, and I laugh with them, though
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