Stolen Luck by Megan Atwood Page B

The minute Madeleine said a word to her, Kayley was sure she’d lose it.
    So she did something she’d never done before: she ran out of ballet class.
    She grabbed her bag and darted around the front of the room, behind a flabbergasted Madame and in front of the whole class. But she didn’t care. The situation was more than humiliating, and she needed to get out before the tears spilled.
    She ran all the way to her room, down the sinister hallway with flickering candle lights and red carpet, and made it to her door as the first sob came. She unlocked the door quickly, then fell on her bed, the sobs coming harder and faster.
    What would she tell her dad? Her brothers? How could this have happened?
    She sat up and threw her bag against the wall, then buried her face in her pillow and screamed.
    She had been a dancer—a soloist—for as long as she could remember. She had always been the best in the class until she came to Dario Quincy Academy. But she didn’t mind not being the best once she came here because the dancing was so fun and amazing, and the other dancers pushed her to be better. And she’d worked hard, at least for a couple of years, to get to be a soloist. And in one fell swoop, she had been demoted back to the corps.
    With the fourteen-year-olds and the ones that everyone knew would never get a professional ballet job.
    She was just another corps dancer.
    The sobs turned into anger. Who did Madame think she was, to treat her this way? What did Madame know anyway? Kayley deserved the part of the fairy godmother—it was hers!
    Just then, her door opened and Ophelia, Sophie, Emma, and—way in the back—Madeleine stood in the hall, looks of pity on their faces. Even Ophelia, who had the empathy of a pigeon, looked sympathetic.
    Kayley wiped her cheeks and said, “I want to be alone.”
    Ophelia walked in anyway and threw a bag of Sour Patch Kids on her bed, then flopped onto Kayley’s desk chair. Sophie and Emma followed and sat down on her floor. Finally, Madeleine came in and leaned awkwardly on her dresser, her eyes looking everywhere but at Kayley.
    Kayley sighed. Friends don’t listen when you want to be alone.
    Ophelia pointed to the package of Sour Patch Kids. “We thought you might want those.”
    Despite herself, Kayley was touched. Ophelia was always taking candy out of her hand and throwing it away. So she knew her friends understood, in some way, what she was going through. But Kayley shook her head anyway.
    â€œNot hungry.”
    She could feel Sophie and Emma looking at each other and could imagine what they were thinking. That Kayley never turned down sweets. And Kayley never did. Except, apparently, when she was failing at life.
    She picked at her bedspread.
    Madeleine cleared her throat and said, “Kayley …” Suddenly her eyes were full of tears. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do. If you want me not to dance it …”
    Kayley was truly touched. No ballet dancer in the history of the world would turn down a better part if she were able to do it. So as much as Kayley wanted to, she told herself that she wouldn’t deny Madeleine the part.
    She shook her head and sighed. “No, Madame wants you to do it.” Kayley smiled. “And it’s not your fault. So don’t feel sorry about it.” She meant it too. Madeleine was too nice to be mad at.
    And, anyway, Kayley knew where to lay the blame: Madame Puant. Suddenly, resolve took the place of her sadness. She was not going to lie down and take this.
    She smiled bigger at Madeleine. “But don’t think I won’t fight for the role.”
    Madeleine’s smile was warm and big too. A collective sigh of relief filled the room.
    Opening the package, she dumped out a Sour Patch Kid and popped it in her mouth. She felt good again. Powerful. She would make this right.
    â€œTomorrow I’m going to have a little talk with Madame and