Page 20 of I'll Be the One

“I believe I mentioned punctuality last week, Miss Shin?” Mr. Park says with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I left my house at ten, but there was this huge accident on the 5.”

Bora rolls her eyes. “Next time, leave at nine. Everyone had to drive here and yet onlyyouwere late.”

Great, as if I weren’t already on Bora’s bad side.

Since Dad’s never been a morning person, there was no way I could have left any earlier. And it’s not like I could have driven myself, either. I don’t say any of this out loud, though. If I told her about my car situation Bora would probably just tell me to drop out like Mom did.

“This is your first and last warning, Miss Shin,” Mr. Park says. “Talent isn’t an excuse for laziness. You’re lucky this is the first dance practice, because otherwise, you would have been eliminated.”

“Yes, sir,” I say, bowing deeply in respect. “I won’t be late again.”

“Everyone else already went around and introduced themselves,” Bora says curtly. “And unfortunately, we don’t havetime for you to do the same. Please go sit down and wait for further instructions.”

I expect everyone else to be staring at our conversation, but when I look away from the judges, I see that only Tiffany is looking in my direction.

You okay?she mouths at me.

I nod, because I am. I’m surprised by the concern on her face—I thought Tiffany didn’t like me after the awkward first encounter we had—but before I can dwell much on it, I spot Henry Cho, who’s currently the center of attention.

Everyone—including the camera crew—is crowded around where he sits at the back of the studio. Henry is in the middle of some story, and he’s all smiles and charm, making the people around him laugh. Some even slap their knees and look like they’re about to cry because they’re laughing too hard.

I find a spot to sit in the very back, since that’s the only place with any space left. The dance studio is pretty fancy, with floor-to-ceiling mirrors and shiny wooden floors, but it’s barely big enough to fit all forty of us.

After I’m settled down, I try to ignore Henry. But it’s hard to do so when everyone around him is so loud. I don’t turn around to face him, but I can’t stop myself from staring at him and everyone else around him through the mirror.

There’s a greater variety of people in the dance group, so less than half the people in the room are Asian. The rest are a good mix of black, brown, and white kids, and we’re all dressed inhip-hop street clothes. Together, we look like one big, awesome dance crew.

“Henry, Henry. So, what happened after that?” It’s a question, but the guy who says it practically yells his words, clearly a bit too excited.

“Oh, well, I was just standing there, wondering what the heck was going on...”

He’s so different from the Henry Cho I saw last week that I start to doubt whether last week even happened. I tune him out, focusing instead on the people sitting next to him.

Henry’s sitting with a petite Asian lady who’s frowning down at a Surface Pro tablet, and a big professional-wrestler-type guy who reminds me of the Rock. From the looks of it, I’d guess that the woman is his manager and the guy is his bodyguard.

Henry’s about to continue his story when Bora claps her hands.

“Okay,” she says. “We’re going to get started. When we call your names, please come down to the front of the room. You will be put into ten groups of four. Mr. Park and I have grouped you by age and/or similarity in style. Since each studio only has one sound system, each group has been preassigned choreography that you will learn together. During the elimination round next week, the other judges and I will either eliminate the entire group, choose to save a few from the group, or allow everyone from the group to advance to the next round. Whenwe call your names, please proceed down the hall to find your assigned dance studio.”

I let out a small sigh in relief. Somehow, it’s less stressful knowing that they’re doing the same thing for the dancers as they did with the singers last week.

Everyone waits in nervous anticipation as the groups are called.

“Studio one,” Mr. Park says. “Elisabet Hernandez, Tiffany Lee, Prithi Reddy, and Katerina Kovacova.”

Tiffany gives me a little wave before she gets up to join her group. I wave back before I refocus my attention on Mr. Park.

“Studio two: Henry Cho, Doug Barton, Skye Shin, and Imani Stevens.”

I jump up from the floor, and so do the other members of my group. Everyone else in the room stares at us as we stand. Most of the attention is focused on Henry, but I also feel some eyes following me, as well as the others in our group. And of course, the cameras also watch our every move.

Since I’m sitting at the very back, I end up leaving way later than Imani and Doug, who both bolt out of the room. Henry, however, lingers behind. He has his full attention on me.

Well, that’s awkward, I think.

I rush past him, since I really don’t have time to socialize. I’m busy enough with school and prepping for the singing portion of the competition. I need all the practice time I can get out of today.

---