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

I’m just going through the motions. I silently bless the hours I’ve spent in the studio, my mind on auto-pilot.

Olivia is a constant presence in my peripheral vision, keeping to the edge of our group in both classes, occasionally chatting with Lisa. She doesn’t try to stand out during either class, just quietly does what is asked of her. A subdued Olivia is disconcerting. I catch the other girls glancing at her curiously.

Finally, the classes finish and everyone from our studio gathers in a dressing room to get ready for the ensemble competition this afternoon. The groups from other studios around us are chatting and spilling over with nervous excitement, completely different from our hushed and anxious group. Even the younger kids in our group, who have no idea what’s wrong, are quiet, shooting nervous glances our way from time to time, then whispering quietly among themselves.

Olivia finishes her makeup first, looks around and then plops herself down in the middle of the younger girls, deftly pulling a lipstick tube out of one of their hands and applying it for her. I watch in the mirror from the corner of my eye as she smiles and jokes with them. The tension eases from their shoulders as she takes over, encouraging them and making sure they do everything properly. I’ve never noticed how often she does that. I’m the one who assists with the little kids’ classes at the studio, but she’s the one who acts like she actually cares about them outside of class.

“Oh my god, I can’t take it anymore,” Katy bursts out when she finishes applying her eyeliner. “Whatever happened between you and Olivia last night, can we just let it go for now? This sad, mopey, silent treatment is making everyone nervous.”

I eye her and Lisa, standing on either side of me, all three of us leaning close to the mirrors and bright lights as we apply the finishing touches of our hair and makeup. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be…” My throat closes up and I stop to take a breath. Do not cry Hannah. You just finished your makeup. Do. Not. Cry. I slowly blow out through my nose and a snot bubble escapes. I burst out laughing, “Ugh!” Giggling, Lisa hands me a tissue and some of the tension eases. I blow my nose, being careful not to smudge my lipstick, glad the urge to cry is gone.

“Hey,” Lisa gets my attention. “You know we love you, right?” I nod, a tiny smile creeping across my face. “Okay. Now get your act together, we’ve got a competition to win.”

“Yes ma’am,” I respond, nodding my head sharply. “Seriously, you guys are my best friends, I’m sorry I’m such a…”

“Mess?” Katy provides helpfully.

“Yeah, sorry I’m such a mess today. But I’m good. We’re gonna be great.” I straighten my spine and head over to the rack where all our costumes hang. I’m flipping through the hangers looking for mine when Olivia starts looking for her costume on the other end of the rack. I pull hers off the hanger next to mine and turn to hand it to her. “Here,” I say quietly, handing it to her. I clear my throat.

“Don’t,” Olivia snaps, holding up a hand in warning. “Thanks,” she adds, acknowledging the costume in her hand. “But I don’t want to get into it with you right now.”

“I just wanted to say I don’t hate you.” I murmur. “Good luck,” I add, for good measure.

Olivia stares at me for a beat. Then she shakes her head and starts to walk away. She gets about two steps before she turns back to say over her shoulder, “I don’t hate you either.”

I guess that’s good enough for now.

Pushing my feelings aside, I finish getting my costume on and join the rest of my group so we can get on stage and perform one last time. It’s time to get focused on why I’m here. Today my goal is to dance with my friends, to dance with the group, all of us creating a beautiful picture together on stage. Each of us has our part to do on stage, mine is to handle the pressure and not let my feelings mess this up for everyone else. One last dance and then it’s time for the awards. One more dance and I’ll be one step closer to my dream.

I’m standing on stage holding a plaque in front of my chest, in complete shock.

I can’t wipe the grin off my face.

I won the Grand Prix award.

I won.

The Grand Prix.

My eyes roam over the audience as I stand there, grinning from ear to ear. My mom and dad are standing up, clapping and grinning right back. My dad does a funny little dance when he catches my eye and I stifle a giggle. Ms. Parker is standing up too, a few seats down, smiling and clapping, stopping occasionally to wipe her eyes. I see Katy and her mom, Lisa’s family, even Olivia’s dad and step-mom all clapping wildly. I turn and glance back at all the other dancers on stage.

I was excited when Olivia and I were both called up as part of the top twelve in the Senior Contemporary Division. We stood next to each other in the line of dancers, not speaking but softly bumping shoulders from time to time. I was overjoyed for Olivia when they called her name in a tie for third place, but secretly disappointed when I wasn’t awarded first or second place in the division.

It’s possible there was a tiny part of my heart, a part I don’t want to admit exists, that pouted at the unfairness of it. That she can skip as many classes as she does for cheer, that she doesn’t seem to want it as badly as I do, and still place higher than me. But I pushed it away and concentrated on being happy for my not-best-friend.

When they moved on to the top twelve of