Toe to Toe (On Pointe Book 1) by Penelope Freed (comprehension books txt) 📗

“Oh my god, it was so much fun,” I pipe up, pulling my sweats on and pulling a make-up remover wipe from my bag to wipe off my sweaty face.

“Ugh, I totally messed it up,” Katy complains. “I hate fouettés on pointe.” I offer her a makeup wipe, which she reluctantly takes. I manage not to roll my eyes at her. I wish she’d let it go already, Hunter and I would never have worked out. But I play nice because 1) Tyler and Jack are best friends and 2) the Quinn’s house is where we all hang out, especially in the summer since they have a pool. As Tyler’s girlfriend and a cheerleader, I have a standing invitation.

“Did you guys see that girl in the purple leotard? She did double, double, single, triple the first time we went to the left.” Thank you Lisa, easing tensions since fourth grade. “It was crazy!”

“Yeah, she was really good,” Hannah bites her lip nervously. This time I don’t bother to hide my eye roll. I don’t understand how she gets so nervous, she won the freaking Jean Field Award at YIGP when we were ten, or as I like to call it, the “Child Prodigy Award.” Obviously she’s an amazing dancer.

“Hannah Banana O’Brian, knock that shit off. You were one of the best dancers in the room.” I can hear the eye roll in my tone as I say it, oops. I glance at Mrs. O’Brian out of the corner of my eye and mouth “sorry” to her when I see her looking. “Seriously, Lisa and Katy agree with me, right?”

At their nods, Hannah sighs and shrugs. “She was still really good.”

“So what? Just because she was good doesn’t mean you aren’t,” Lisa points out. How do they put up with Hannah’s need for reassurance all the time? Has she always been this needy? I don’t remember her being like this when we were younger. Maybe I just blocked it from my mind.

“I don’t remember her at all, was she in my group?” Subject change so we can be done with the needy portion of this conversation.

“Yeah, she was behind you. You cut her off the one time in the grand jeté.”

Oops. “Oh. Wish I could have seen it, it sounds impressive,” I add.

We throw the rest of our stuff in our bags and head out to the O’Brian’s SUV and pile in. “It was cool, but then she was late on everything else, so I don’t know if they’ll like that or not,” Hannah points out slowly. Finally, she’s showing some backbone again. “It’s PSB, musicality is a big deal.” she adds with a shrug as she buckles up in the front seat. I’m squished in the back with Lisa and Katy, but at least I managed to score a window seat.

We spend the rest of the hour drive home dissecting the audition class. I don’t hang out with these ballet girls much anymore, but I have to be honest I’m enjoying it more than I expected, especially now that Hannah isn’t fishing for compliments. I forgot how much fun these girls can be. My cheer bitches only ever want to talk about boys, clothes, and gossip—celebrity or otherwise. It’s nice to have a conversation that actually uses a few extra brain cells. But I’d never tell them that.

Chapter 8 Hannah

Tutus? Check.

Good tights? Check.

Spare tights? Check.

Pointe shoes? Check.

My English teacher drones on, but my mind is fully occupied with making sure I haven’t forgotten to pack something. Someone is asking me about the symbolism of the green light. Green light? All I can picture are the bright stage lights that will be shining in my eyes tomorrow.

Extra pointe shoes, soft shoes, bandaids, second skin, and toe tape? Check, check, check, check and check.

Hair stuff, make up, emergency supplies? Double check.

A voice by my head is speaking in Spanish. “¿Donde esta la estacion de trenes?” With a start, I realize the question was directed at me. I quickly think back to what was said and pull an answer past the endless litany of checklists in my head. Where is the train station?

I quickly glance down at my Spanish book and grab the first building name I see. “Está al lado de la universidad.” I just need to get through two more periods and then I can forget about school and focus on what’s important.

Did I check all this last night before I went to bed? Absolutely. Am I convinced I forgot something? You bet.

The day is a blur until I sit down next to Lisa at lunch.

“Did you pack a nice dress for the awards?” Lisa has her own list in her hand, double checking she didn’t forget anything either. At least she’ll have a chance to go home and grab anything she forgot before Katy and her mom pick her up before driving down for the competition. “I have 3 leotards per day, is that enough?”

“I only packed two, one for the morning classes and a spare so I don’t have to wear a sweaty leotard all day.” I peer over Lisa’s shoulder at her list to see if she has anything I forgot. Warm ups, pajamas, extra clothes, toiletries, phone charger. All there.

My mom is picking me up after school to drive two hours south to Orange County for the Youth International Grand Prix regional semifinals. Technically, the competition starts tonight with optional classes, but the real competition doesn’t start until tomorrow morning. The whole weekend is a combination of master classes and onstage competition. We’re performing our ensemble Sleeping Beauty excerpt, plus a couple of us are competing solos. Lisa is doing her Lilac Fairy variation, Olivia has a contemporary solo, and I’m competing three solos–Aurora’s wedding variation, Kitri’s Act One variation, and a contemporary solo. There’s some younger girls also competing but I’ve been so worried about myself I haven’t really paid attention to who’s