Page 47 of Forbidden Dance
I join in, wishing I could see into the hall. I can only hope he’ll wait.
Last night, I planned and plotted for a way to escape and see him. On Saturdays, my parents always go see a movie and leave me to watch Andy. Afterward, though, they generally go to their room early and don’t come out again. If I can convince Andy to go to bed early, or at least stay in his room, I can sneak out at a relatively decent hour, ten or so. For someone like Blitz, that probably isn’t late.
As long as they don’t discover I’m gone, I can be out most of the night.
I’m distracted by these thoughts, and Betsy reprimands me repeatedly for my sloppiness and lack of form. I focus back in, pretending Blitz is at the window watching me, and get back on track.
She’s more pleased with me after that.
Class still drags. When we’re finally done, I snatch up my string bag and race out of the room.
The hall is mobbed with parents and dancers. I can’t stand to search through the crowd, so I jump onto one of the benches so I can see over everyone’s heads.
He’s not there.
I hop down, feeling low. Surely he waited.
Jacob is in Studio 2, so I pop in as he picks up mats.
“Was Blitz here for Advanced Jazz?” I ask.
“Nope,” he says. “Big ol’ no-show.”
My belly sinks. He wasn’t here at all. Why?
“Thanks,” I tell Jacob. I wonder who would know what happened. I curse my lack of a phone. I have no way to get in touch with Blitz. And he can’t talk to me either.
Even though I know it’s pointless, I wander through the academy, down the aisle of the dark recital hall, across the stage, and into the storage room. He isn’t anywhere.
When I get back to the front, I head out. No use getting in trouble for lingering if there’s no reason for it.
I head home to a dismal weekend without Blitz.
Chapter 17
The weekend is horribly long. I take Andy on walks past the academy, but I never spot the red Ferrari. I’m not surprised. I don’t think he’s there for any of the weekend classes.
But I know he’s still in town, because at church on Sunday, Mindy and I hole up in the girls’ bathroom reading Tweets about Blitz sightings.
Unlike the previous weekend, however, there are no date pictures. Just Blitz with his parents, eating at restaurants or shopping. The mentions are slowing down and almost none of them have anything mean to say. There’s one or two “Go home to Mama” messages, but overall it’s just general excitement to see a celebrity.
He is, however, doing another charity event Sunday evening. We find a link to a Holiday Giving kickoff for Any Baby Can. Seeing that he’s doing a fund-raiser for children makes my heart squeeze.
Knowing that he’s avoiding anything that even looks like a date gives me hope.
On Monday, I decide not to go up to the academy and risk him not being there again. I want to save up my escapes for when I can actually see him. So I plod on to Tuesday. It’s a good plan, because Mom has calmed down about all my time at the academy last week. She doesn’t even look up when I wave bye for the scheduled class with the wheelchair ballerinas. Hopefully she won’t be upset if I’m not back right on time.
Since Blitz didn’t see me in the light blue leotard on Friday, I carefully wash it to wear again. I’m anxious about this class, because Hannah the shark manager has told the mothers we’re going to be filming the video with Blitz.
As I approach the academy, I see it must be true. There are two vans in the parking lot, both for some production company. A couple men are hanging out behind the open doors of one of them.
When I get inside, the foyer is pandemonium. The girls are getting made up by actual makeup artists under bright lights. Two women are modifying their recital costumes, making sure every strap is perfect.
All the parents who aren’t involved in our class are standing around too. Dancers who should be in class are whining and begging to stay and watch rather than attend their own practice.
Danika weaves through the chaos, trying to move people along and maintain order. Her spiky blue hair is easy to follow in the crowd.
Despite being anxious to find Blitz, I look for Gabriella first. She’s waiting near the makeup table, her eyes bright with excitement. A woman approaches from behind and talks to Gwen, who nods. The two of them swiftly remove the sequin scrunchie and start braiding her long black hair.
