Two weeks into rehearsals, I still wasn’t getting the dance moves.
“Step back, forward cross, jumping Jack, pirouette, stomp. Punch, punch, fisty chin, spin around, and do it again.”
I successfully completed no more than two of the moves AJ was shouting toward the stage. Even those two were a couple of seconds behind everyone else. I’d missed several practices due to work—due to Mr. Fabro. Traveling out of town gave Ginger and Cadence time to get acquainted while Major stayed over at my house, but it really screwed with my progress onstage. We’d picked the puppy up on a Monday—all three of us—HRH! Abby had brought Major a cake shaped like a dog bone, and one for Cadence made out of dog food. It smelled pretty gross, but didn’t taste half bad.
“I dare you to try it.”
Cadence wouldn’t, b
