I Forgot to Tell You Page 4

  “Grace,” Leon answered briefly. Kaitlyn suddenly realized that Grace was the only one not there.

  “What about Grace? Is she okay?”

  “Yeah,” Alexandra snorted. “Did you know that she has been paying the Demidovskis for roles? I was just telling Aiko about it, and then everyone showed up.”

  “Omigod, for real?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Guys, I don’t think that we should assume that this is true until we have confirmed it,” Jessica interjected. “Like, how do you think Grace would feel about this? What if she didn’t, or what if her parents didn’t tell her about it?”

  “Don’t be annoying,” Alexandra sighed. “It’s real, okay?”

  “How do you know?” Kaitlyn asked, sitting down on the floor. For something this big, she might as well be comfortable.

  “I talked to her.” Alexandra shrugged. “And, like, my mom knew because Gabriel told her by accident.”

  Taylor giggled, and Kaitlyn looked across the room, laughing with her. Of course Gabriel did. He had the special talent of almost always saying the thing that shouldn’t be said to the person it shouldn’t be said to.

  “What did Grace say?” Aiko asked, her soft voice even quieter than normal. She looked more confused than anything. Aiko was so sweet, Kaitlyn thought to herself. She just worked harder than everyone else, and so she was the best, and because she was also older than them all, and Japanese, they left her alone. Next year and this spring and summer she was going to be auditioning, so she had been running on a lot less sleep and food than normal.

  “Grace said that she didn’t, but I know she was lying,” Alexandra said firmly.

  “How?” demanded Julian.

  “Uh, she’s my best friend, of course I know when she’s lying,” Alexandra said. She rolled her eyes. “She totally knows about it. I can’t believe she’s been lying about this for so long.”

  “It’s almost one o’clock; we have to get to class!” Angela broke in. She stood up and went to get ready, everyone following her.”

  Kaitlyn followed Taylor to their lockers, and started to pull out her dance clothes. “Do you think it’s true?”

  “Yeah.” Taylor nodded.

  “I wonder if anyone else is.” Kaitlyn frowned.

  Taylor shrugged, pulling out her uniform with a grimace of displeasure. “Ugh, this uniform is so faded and stretched out now, I wish I could wear my new Yumiko, I ordered this really sweet one but it hasn’t come yet — it’s hot pink with turquoise edges.”

  “Sounds great,” Kaitlyn lied. “So, what do you think this means for Coppelia? Like, do you think Grace will still get to do it, or what?”

  Taylor shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess it depends on how much the parents complain. Hey, do you wanna go to a party with me tonight?”

  “What?”

  “I can’t bring Keiko, she doesn’t drink. So, do you want to come? I won’t actually be drinking, just a little bit. Come on, it’ll be fun!”

  “Um, I’ll come, but I don’t really drink.” Kaitlyn had never drunk anything. Period. But it would be so exciting, and scary, to go with Taylor … “Okay, I’ll come. What should I wear? When?”

  Taylor looked her over and frowned. “Um, why don’t you come to my house after class and we’ll find you some stuff? My mom will be cool with that, ’cause she wanted to grill you about which summer intensive auditions you were going to, anyway.”

  “Okay,” Kaitlyn agreed. “Who is going to this thing?”

  “Oh, nobody you know,” Taylor assured her. “But it’ll be fun!”

  She walked off to get changed, and Kaitlyn slammed her locker door shut, closing the lock. This should be interesting.

  Upstairs, everyone was still gossiping. Kaitlyn sat down at the side of the floor to put her pointe shoes on, basking in the comforting knowledge that they were all talking about someone other than her. It had been a difficult few weeks after she had not shown up to YAGP. Everyone had questioned her about “being sick” for ages, and she had gotten the impression that they didn’t believe her story about getting pneumonia.

  “Kaitlyn!” she heard someone whisper loudly from behind her. She turned around, frowning.

  Her mother was in the doorway. Sighing, Kaitlyn stood up and walked over to her. “What?”

  Cecelia grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the studio and behind the door. “I just found out something extremely interesting,” she began.

  “Grace has been paying for her parts?” Kaitlyn guessed.

  Cecelia frowned. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me?” she said.

  “I just found out like five minutes ago,” Kaitlyn explained.

  “You should have phoned me.”

  “I was going to class! Can I go now?”

  “No, you can’t go! Do you realize what this means?”

  “Grace is in trouble and the whole school hates her right now?”

  “It means that we are going to get your part back! They can’t keep you from playing Swanhilda when you clearly deserve it. I am going to go in there and give those people a piece of my mind.”

  “Mom, please don’t,” Kaitlyn groaned.

  “I most certainly will! You deserve this role, Kaitlyn, and you are going to get it. It is unbelievable that the Demidovskis would let themselves be bought.”

  “Okay. Hey, can I sleep over at Taylor’s tonight?”

  “It’s a school night.”

  “I know. Her mom can drive me to school tomorrow, and she can loan me some clothes.”

  “Are you sure that anything of Taylor’s will fit you?” Cecelia asked.

  “Yes! Seriously, Mom, stop it. She’s got a few things that I’ve fit into before.”

  “What about your homework?”

  “I’ll do it with her.”

  “Yes, you and Taylor doing homework. That’s a sight I’d pay to see. Especially considering that Taylor dropped out.” Cecelia snorted. “Alright then, as long as it’s okay with Charlize.”

  “Okay. I have to get back to rehearsal.” Kaitlyn ran back into the studio and finished putting on her pointe shoes. They were perfect; softly molded to her feet, but still hard enough to provide enough support. She walked out into a clear space on the floor and began to pirouette, landing after four. She felt a little guilty for wasting such a perfect pair on class, they were so good that maybe she should save them for a performance. She tendued to the side and ronds de jambed to the back. Two pirouettes to start, and then she began to fouette, two normal, then one Italian, stretching her leg up to an almost 180-degree extension before rotating around into attitude derrière.

  “Kaitlyn!” Gabriel gestured from the doorway. He looked frazzled, his hair sticking every which way. “Can you come here, please?”

  Kaitlyn nodded and grabbed her stuff, leaving the rest of the dancers waiting for rehearsal. As she left, she checked the clock; almost eleven; they should have started by now.

  “Kaitlyn, come here,” Mrs. Demidovski said impatiently as Kaitlyn entered the office. Gabriel shut the door, and the office was suddenly isolated from the rest of the academy. Now there was just Kaitlyn and Cecelia, the Demidovskis, Mr. Moretti, and, of course, Gabriel, who was sitting behind his desk pretending he didn’t exist. Kaitlyn wished that the floor would open and she would suddenly be out of here.

  “Your mother tells me that you ‘must’ dance Swanhilda,” Mr. Demidovski told Kaitlyn, his voice emphasizing the must.

  Kaitlyn bit her lip.

  “You want dance Swanhilda?” Mrs. Demidovski asked.

  “Of course,” Kaitlyn said automatically.

  “Well, you aren’t ready,” Mrs. Demidovski said emphatically.

  “Okay.” It seemed the most diplomatic thing to say.

  Cecelia glared at her before turning back to the Demidovskis. “You betrayed our trust by allowing a student to buy her way into roles that should rightfully be my daughter’s,” she said angrily.

  “I think you are making a
gross assumption here,” Mr. Moretti said, leaning against the wall and looking at her, his eyes half-laughing. Kaitlyn blushed. She could tell that Mr. Moretti was making fun of her mother, and it embarrassed her. “You are assuming that the role would automatically be Kaitlyn’s if it were not for Grace. Which is simply not true.”

  Kaitlyn was confused. She looked at her mother, who was opening and closing her mouth like a cartoon fish, and then at the Demidovskis, who were nodding their agreement with Mr. Moretti, suddenly looking a lot happier.

  “Exactly!” Mr. Demidovski said, thumping one hand against his bony knee. “Kaitlyn, she, you, are not ready! Kaitlyn still has the childish mistakes, she is not enough developed. The tricks, very good, but the artistry, the details, not strong enough.”

  “Well, isn’t that your fault as her teachers?” Cecelia asked, losing ground quickly.

  “We have someone in mind as Swanhilda, and Kaitlyn is fine in the corps,” Mrs. Demidovski said firmly. “She will make a good Friend if she works hard and listens to Mr. Moretti.”

  “But, Grace won’t be playing Swanhilda?!” Cecelia protested.

  “We will decide,” Mr. Demidovski said firmly. To his left, Mr. Moretti nodded his agreement.

  “Kaitlyn has to go to rehearsal,” Mrs. Demidovski intervened. She looked at Kaitlyn. “Go, go, you will be late.” Kaitlyn gratefully left the room, heading toward the studio.

  Inside the studio, the usual prepared pre-rehearsal atmosphere had completely disintegrated. Everyone was sitting on the floor, giggling and gossiping. With Mr. Moretti busy in the office, rehearsal was already almost twenty minutes late in starting. Over in the corner, Kageki and Leon were making bets on how late it was going to be. “Definitely an hour,” Leon said, shaking his head. “Mr. Demidovski’s in there.”

  In the middle of the room, Tristan was attempting to do a lift with Alexandra, but they kept failing. Alexandra had red marks all over her back from Tristan narrowly grabbing her as she slid toward the ground. Jonathon stood up and walked toward them. “I bet I can do that with you,” he dared Tristan.

  “Yeah, right,” Tristan scoffed. “You can try.” He stepped into arabesque, and Jonathon lifted him straight up above his head, only his red face and the shaking of his biceps showing the effort it took for him to keep Tristan up there. He lowered Tristan down. “Nice man,” Tristan said, surprised. “You’ve been working.”

  Jonathon grinned.

  Kaitlyn stood near the barre, watching and laughing. It was so hilarious watching the boys try to partner each other; they were so competitive about it. Taylor walked up to her and leaned beside her on the barre. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  Kaitlyn shrugged. “I don’t really know,” she lied.

  “I hope we finish early so we can get ready,” Taylor said impatiently, looking up at the clock. “It’s almost twelve, and they still haven’t even decided what order they are rehearsing. I thought we were supposed to be doing a full run-through today?”

  “Who knows?” Kaitlyn walked away from Taylor, heading over to sit with Jessica and Keiko, who were doing some homework as they waited. Jessica was frowning over a page that had a lightly pencilled-in thought map. “I can’t think of a good thesis,” she complained.

  “What’s it supposed to be on?” Kaitlyn asked, sitting next to her.

  “Whether I believe that changes in environmental policy originate with the public or institutions,” Jessica moaned, burying her face in her hands. “This is so stupid.”

  “I thought you guys were working on Macbeth?” Kaitlyn asked, confused. “That’s what Alexandra was working on.”

  “I failed the Macbeth test because I didn’t read the stupid book because I was too busy with competition,” Jessica complained. “So, now I have to do this stupid essay.”

  Angela was calmly going through her math work, working through the answers at a methodical pace. Kaitlyn looked over her shoulder. “Ew.”

  “What?”

  “Grade eleven math looks gross.”

  “It’s fine,” Angela said calmly. “You just have to be confident in the basics.”

  Kaitlyn shuddered. She didn’t have basics in math, she had sheer panic, and worry that hit her ten seconds before she had to complete a quiz as opposed to the night before.

  Mr. Moretti walked in, and everyone was suddenly quiet, turning to look at him. Tristan hopped out of Jonathon’s arms.

  Mr. Moretti looked around to make sure that everyone was paying attention. “Okay,” he said, “I will be rehearsing Friends, and then I will be rehearsing the village corps, first act, and then I will be rehearsing with Leon, Tristan, Kageki, and Julian. The rest of you may go.”

  Grace got up to leave with Aiko, but Mr. Moretti put up his hand to stop her. “Aiko, you may go,” he said. “Grace, I want you to stay and learn this.” Grace went back to the side, putting her bag down again. Mr. Moretti, paused, considering. “Grace, you learn Alexandra’s role,” he decided.

  After rehearsal, Kaitlyn ran to get changed out of her sweaty dance clothes and undo her hair. “Ugh, my hair looks gross,” she said despairingly, looking in the mirror. The sweat and gel had turned into a clumpy mess.

  “We can fix it at my house, don’t worry,” Taylor said, laughing. “Come on.” Kaitlyn started doing up her boots. “Oh, and one thing,” Taylor said, looking around as her voice dropped, “my mom doesn’t know that this is a party. She’s still mad about me dropping out of school, so I said that we’re going over to your friend’s to do homework. That way she’ll believe that it isn’t a party.”

  “Wait, so she’ll assume that it isn’t a party if it’s my friend’s house?” Kaitlyn protested.

  “Yes,” Taylor said firmly. “Hurry!”

  Charlize was already waiting at the side of the academy. Taylor and Kaitlyn quickly climbed in. “You girls are fast today,” she commented, looking through the rear window to make sure she didn’t squash any small pink-tutu-clad toddlers.

  “Mmm,” Taylor said, “Mom, what’s for dinner?”

  “I don’t know,” Charlize said, considering. “I suppose we could pick up pizza.”

  “Yeah! I want pizza. Can you get me the kind that’s just got cheese on it, nothing else?”

  “Sure,” Charlize said, heading out of Vancouver toward the North Shore. “What kind do you want, Kaitlyn?”

  Kaitlyn considered. She hadn’t had pizza in a while. This was a weighty decision. “Um, can I get the Hawaiian?”

  “Sure, that’s what I like, too,” Charlize agreed. They drove on, the lights starting to flicker on in the fading light.

  Inside Taylor’s house, Taylor practically pushed Kaitlyn up the stairs and into her room, leaving Charlize to go phone for pizza. She put her bag on her bed and began digging through her closet. Kaitlyn sat gingerly down on the pink bed. It was very squishy.

  “How about this?” Taylor asked, reappearing with a tank top. It was white with black lace on the edges, and three small buttons down the front.

  “That’s so pretty!” Kaitlyn said, jumping up and holding it up to her in front of the mirror.

  “Try it on,” Taylor suggested.

  Kaitlyn pulled it on, and looked again. Oh. “It’s sort of too low.”

  “It looks fine to me, but whatever, I’ll look for something else.”

  Taylor came out with an off-the-shoulder baby-blue top. “Here.”

  Kaitlyn pulled it on. It was a little small, especially in the arm holes, but it would do. “Yeah. I like this.”

  “Okay.” Taylor kept digging until she found a deep purple off-the-shoulder top with rhinestone buttons on the front for herself, and changed her jeans. “Too bad I don’t have any jeans you would fit into,” she said, sighing. “Oh well.”

  Kaitlyn pretended she didn’t hear that last comment.

  Taylor began to do her hair and makeup, and Kaitlyn gingerly added a bit of eyeshadow and mascara. She knew how to do stage makeup, but everyday makeup was beyond h
er.

  “Now, put this hoodie on over top,” Taylor ordered. Kaitlyn obeyed, zipping it up just in time to hear Charlize say: “Girls! The pizza’s here!”

  Zack’s house was lit up in the dark, and Kaitlyn and Taylor couldn’t stop giggling as they walked up to it from the bus stop. “Oh, Kaitlyn, how come we never really hang out?” Taylor asked, wrapping her arm around Kaitlyn’s waist. “This is so much fun!”

  They walked into the light, and Kaitlyn was surprised to see a woman she assumed was Zack’s mother opening the door. There were parents who condoned underage drinking?

  “Come in, girls, don’t you look pretty,” she gushed. “All the kids are in the basement, so if you want to go downstairs …” Kaitlyn realized that there were two parties going on, one upstairs with adults and their party below. She and Taylor took off their shoes and headed down.

  Downstairs there was a pool table, a couch, and a lot of people. Kaitlyn didn’t recognize anyone. “Is anyone here from McKinley?” she whispered to Taylor.

  “A few people,” Taylor whispered back. “Zack’s friends with all the other tech-club kids who work backstage. I met a few of them when I danced at the assembly before the break, but I only really know Zack. He should have gone to King William’s, the school I was supposed to go to, but he didn’t want to go to the same school as his brother. So I guess all these other people are his old friends who go to King William’s.”

  “How do you know Zack?” Kaitlyn asked. But Taylor was already walking in. She hooked her arm around Kaitlyn’s, leading her in a weaving path toward the kitchen. She pulled two coolers out of her bag and handed one to Kaitlyn. “You owe me,” she said, giggling.

  “How did you even get these?” Kaitlyn whispered back.

  “My mom always keeps a bunch in the fridge and she doesn’t care when I take them. She says that it’s better than me getting roofied.”