Instrumental

Chapter 4

There might be a break on the job front. Nadia"s news before rehearsal made me do a jig. I approach Madame Solierre after the others had left to confirm Nadia’s information.

"Yes, I"m asking several of the advanced pupils to assist with the younger beginner classes because I’ll be shorthanded for a while."

"Would you consider me?" My voice echoes in the empty room.

"I"ll give it serious thought." She pauses. "Have you reconsidered trying out for the pirate solo?"

I bite my lip. "No."

If this is an impromptu interview, I"m off to a rip-roaring start.

"That’s unlike you. I don"t wish to pry, but do you mind telling me why?"

The floor creaks as I shift my weight. "I"m afraid."

"You"ve had solos before."

"I messed up."

Madame Solierre seems confused. "Are you speaking of the competition performances?"

I nod.

"Genevieve, it was a single event and not the breakdown you’ve built up in your imagination."

"I didn’t imagine freezing during my solo performance." The one I stumbled through after I thawed out. The one I didn’t finish properly. The last solo I performed. "And our ensemble placed next to last because I fell during that performance. How does that not constitute a breakdown?"

Two thousand pairs of eyes watched as I went down. As blind as the lights made me, I knew that. Madame Solierre might think it"s not big, but my reality is that competition is my juggernaut.

And I’ll have to do it again by summer’s end.

"My poor performance cost the studio a win. I can"t let people down like that, especially a company."

Failure. A weak link.

"You didn"t single-handedly sabotage our placement." Madame Solierre studies me. "But I appreciate how those kinds of setbacks take away confidence. There are ways to rebuild it. I recommend attending the second intensive camp. Dancing and becoming stronger increases confidence."

"Yes, I’ll be there."

"Ballet schools also improve technique and artistry. Nothing like an excellent ballet school to immerse you, and a rigorous program would build your confidence immensely."

"I considered information for several." My eyes skim the Joffrey school poster on the wall behind her. "It sounds good but intense."

"They are, so dancers can reach their full potential. I’m thrilled I attended mine. I wouldn’t have had the same career without it."

What is my potential?

A photo has what appears to be a young Madame Solierre in a beautiful costume on stage. I point to it. "Is this you?"

"Yes, that"s my first performance in a ballet company. I was eighteen when that was taken."

I ask her a couple of questions about her dance career, one that lasted eight years at a prestigious company. She was a principal dancer but an injury ended her career, and she opened a dance school here. Her first class was held in this very room. "The studio is a nice way to still dance but not actually dance."

"Yes, and in the end, I"m pleased I established this studio and school. But for a while, I wanted no part of dance."

"I can"t imagine you doing anything but."

"Me neither. I ran from everything. It was too hard remembering what I’d lost."

"What changed your mind?"

"Dance took me and others out of some dark moments when I was young." Madame Solierre looks as though she’s far away. "I never forgot that."

"I"ve never needed dance to do that for me."

"I"m glad, Genevieve. Consider yourself fortunate." She regards me for a moment. "What are your plans for dance in the future?"

"I love to dance, but I"m not sure if pursuing it after high school is smart for me."

"I believe with hard work, you could dance professionally."

"Really?"

"I said with hard work. Despite what you believe, overall, your technique and artistry has been exceptional. If we stepped up your training, you"d be well on your way. Would you like to pursue a professional dance career?"

Haha, Dance. You can"t reject me. I"ll wait you out until you"re too tired to fight. "Yes."

"Any ideas about which path you wish to explore to achieve that goal?"

"Which do you believe is best?"

"I"d love to see you at a ballet school. They"re excellent for focus. Fewer distractions."

I never thought of myself as distracted. "Okay, I had talked to my parents about going."

Madame Solierre beams. "Excellent. Genevieve, you’ll need to monitor your extracurricular activities closely in the future. It might be necessary to give up things. The professional track is demanding."

I swallow. There"s that priority thing Mom mentioned. "I understand."

Do I? Am I ready?

"Let"s formulate a plan. Time is of the essence. If you don’t address this now, you may never rise to the challenge again."

I do agree with that; I"m at a turning point.

"Are you interested in auditioning in Houston the middle of August?" Madame Solierre asks. "I believe you’d enjoy their program, and I know a few people there."

I probably would, but I can picture that conversation with my parents — ‘Let’s forget you told me you have to stop doling out money and fly me out to Houston to audition for an expensive ballet school.’

They already think I"m clueless.

"I won’t be able to swing that," I reply.

"We can submit a video audition recorded here."

That’s a more reasonable proposition, but what if, by some miracle, I was actually accepted? Houston is far away, and Southerland has been home my entire life. One day I’ll leave, but I’ve never been anxious to, and I love being with my parents. Philly or New York would be an easier separation stepping stone. Even Boston or Atlanta would be closer.

But I knew leaving was likely. "We can do that."

"That"ll be plan A. This ballet competition may be the ticket for you."

My eyes grow wide.

"They offer scholarships to ballet schools, as well as for summer intensive programs, which are excellent ways to get accepted into competitive ballet programs," she explains. "Masterclasses during the event will allow you to learn from outstanding teachers, and a high standing will do wonders for your resume as well as a quick, if not somewhat artificial, boost to your confidence."

I take a deep breath. The competition was terrifying enough. Now we"re adding these life elements to it. "Artificial boost?"

"It"s a good learning experience if it"s kept in perspective, but they alone don"t determine a student"s skill. I enroll my students in competitions to give them another venue to perform in, and it allows an opportunity to see their peers outside of this studio. Plus, they"re fun and exciting."

I raise an eyebrow. Yeah, that last one I fell at was fabulous.

That sounds great in theory, but at the end of the day, I cracked. It"s hard to be a professional ballerina when you suddenly have a serious issue with stage fright.

"Presently, you"re only participating in two ensembles with the senior cast, correct?" Madame Solierre asks.

I nod. Only two? It"s like my Everest.

"You need to register for two more performances. They allow four."

"Why?" My voice is high. I swallow to calm myself.

"To be eligible for those scholarships, you must perform a classical ballet solo and a contemporary solo."

I stifle the urge to stomp my foot. How am I going to survive this?

"And you have to be in the competitive level, not the intermediate one you did before," continues Madame Solierre.

I wipe my sweaty palms on my skirt. "What about the professional program here? Didn’t you say we could do that?"

"We can. But the ballet schools we"re considering are tied directly to companies, which I can"t provide."

I told Dad the same thing.

"I"ll also give you one of the teaching positions. You’ll benefit from the experience."

"Thank you."

She heads to the desk in a corner and looks at a laptop. "You"ll assist Janie, a newer instructor, with the four and five-year-olds. It"ll ease you into the role of teaching since the content won"t be challenging."

That"ll be absolutely darling. At that age, they"re learning how to tap their toes properly, turn without falling, and arrange their hands.

"The position will begin during intensive camp. Is that a problem?"

It definitely could be. I didn’t think that through, but I need this job. "No."

"Starting next Tuesday, can you come in at noon before rehearsals? We need to develop routines."

"That shouldn"t be an issue."

"You"ll need to put in extra rehearsal hours polishing it. Once camp begins, you should be here by two at the latest for us to get any proper work done, but I"d recommend one."

I press my lips together. There are only so many hours in a day, and I"m quickly running out of them. Getting here at one won’t happen, and two will be painful. "Yes, but I won’t have much extra time once camp starts."

"Genevieve, let me reiterate we have little time, and it’s tighter with the Peter Pan performances coming up. This competition could shape your dance future."

I shift my weight as I catch sight of Madame Solierre’s first company performance photo. "I"ll make it happen."

"And you may call me Madame Cossette if you wish. We"ll be with one another more in the future, so we can be less formal."

Maybe she’ll get wild and start calling me Gen instead of Genevieve. But I appreciate the gesture.

We say our goodbyes, and I leave the room, bombarded by emotions. Madame Solierre is dedicated to her school and students.

I’m not at that level.

I put my sunglasses on as I exit the building.

Do I have to be?

Usually, my bedroom is my happy niche.

It"s failing me now.

There’s no moon tonight, and it’s darker than usual. I stare at the Degas ballerinas on my walls like they can talk to me. Maybe teleport me into their scene so I don’t have to deal with my issues.

Dad pokes his head into the room.

"Hey, pumpkin. I knocked several times. Are your earphones that loud, or are you daydreaming that hard?" He sits gingerly on the edge of my bed, smelling like Ivory soap. Dad always seems a little out of place when he"s in here.

I sit up. "Sorry, I was lost in thought."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

I shake my head.

"I"d like to go out for a family dinner tomorrow. Your Mom is planning a trip to your grandparents this weekend, so we can’t do it then."

"She was just there." We visit regularly, but twice in three weeks is unusual.

"They’re adjusting things. Your grandfather hasn’t been feeling well lately, and your grandmother’s heart problems are getting worse."

Dad and I sit quietly.

"Do you have dance tomorrow?" he asks. "I need to visit with you all I can before you leave us."

Poor Dad. "I finish at four, and nothing is decided with ballet school. I have to be accepted, remember. How was your day?"

"Busy. But nothing I can"t handle." He runs his hand through his already messy blond hair.

"Dad, have you ever told someone one thing, and they thought you meant something else?"

"Plenty of times." He chuckles. "Ask your mom."

"I meant with something important."

He grins. "Our car almost got repossessed the one time."

Mom must have had a fit. "So, let"s say I told someone I was interested in something but hadn"t made the decision to do it. But they took it to mean I was really, really interested and ready to go all-in."

Dad wrinkles his forehead. "Are you talking about boys? We should get your Mom in here." He stands.

"No, Dad. This has nothing to do with boys."

He looks relieved, and then puzzled. "So, what are we talking about?"

Mom said I could bounce ideas off them, but I guess I"ll have to be more concrete. "I told Madame Solierre I’d try for ballet school."

"I thought you’d already decided that," he says, still sounding confused.

"I did… kinda. It"s okay. Thanks for listening."

He ruffles my hair. "You"ll figure it out, pumpkin, and I"m always ready to talk. I"ll let you return to your music."

He leaves, shutting the door behind him.

No one has mentioned anything about my performance in the competition. It seems forgotten to everyone but me.

I need my confidence back.

I slap the bed. I’ll push myself to practice harder and get stronger, starting with Intensive Ballet Camp. Live with an impossible schedule for a few weeks, and make it work somehow. Get in top shape for the video audition and do a stellar performance at that competition as a backup.

Every piece is critical to get a dance school acceptance quickly.

And maybe, my little voice of hope whispers, someday, Dance and I can be friends again.