Jessi's Big Break

  “No fair,” Claire murmured, shuffling back to her hiding place.

  Everyone remained silent for about two minutes.

  Then Byron cried out, “Aaauuuggggh!” and tumbled to the living room floor.

  “Sssshhh!” hissed Adam.

  “Nicky farted!” Byron howled.

  “Did not!” Nicky protested.

  “Guys, cut it out,” Mr. Pike said.

  Two more minutes of silence.

  Vanessa started snoring. That made everyone crack up.

  Then came a round of burping.

  Animal noises.

  Bird calls.

  At 7:20, Kristy asked, “Do you think they went home first?”

  Mallory called my number, but the machine was on.

  “They must have hit traffic,” Mrs. Pike said.

  Claire giggled. “That’s silly. Why would they hit cars?”

  By 7:25, everyone was sitting on the sofa, eating chips and pretzels.

  At 7:35, Mr. Pike brought out the pizzas. “Might as well eat them before they harden. We can always get more when Jessi comes.”

  At 7:45, Mrs. Pike tried our number again and left another message.

  At eight o’clock, Charlotte, Haley, and Natalie had to go home. Mary Anne left with them, and walked them to their parents’ cars on the way. “Call me when they show up,” she said.

  Mallory paced the living room. The triplets and Abby were playing Monopoly while Claire played Sorry with Kristy, Stacey, and Claudia. Vanessa was scribbling in a notebook. Margo and Nicky were in the den, watching TV. Mr. and Mrs. Pike were reading the newspaper.

  “I’m surprised they haven’t called,” Kristy remarked.

  “They did,” Claire said.

  Adam rolled his eyes. “Uh, Claire, do you know what fantasy means?”

  “They did!” Claire insisted. “I talked to them.”

  Mallory’s ears pricked up. “You mean, when the phone rang before while we were singing, and you picked up? That was them?”

  “Yup,” Claire replied proudly.

  Now everyone was looking at her.

  “What did they say?” Mrs. Pike asked.

  “That they were coming.”

  “Coming when?” Mallory asked.

  “Late,” Claire replied.

  “They said they were going to be late, and you didn’t tell us?” Byron said, practically yelling.

  Claire made a face at him. “We already knew that! Everyone knows nighttime is late!”

  Jordan and Adam groaned out loud.

  The rest of them kept it in. But barely.

  * * *

  When did my parents show up? At 9:10.

  By that time, Kristy and Abby had left. The lights were blazing in the house. The cookies and pizza were gone. But everyone yelled “Surprise!” anyway.

  “Where were you?” Becca asked.

  “Didn’t you get the message?” Daddy said.

  “I instructed Claire to tell you we were to be late,” Aunt Cecelia said.

  “See?” Claire said proudly.

  Mallory was looking around them, toward the empty porch. “Where’s Jessi?”

  Mama and Daddy looked at each other. “Well, uh, something came up,” Mama said. “An audition. She has to stay in New York. But just one more night.”

  “She’ll be here tomorrow afternoon,” Daddy added.

  “Oh,” Mallory replied. “I guess the surprise was on us.”

  She was not happy.

  Not at all.

  At five o’clock on Thursday morning, I was wide-awake.

  I’d been dreaming about the previous afternoon. The images were running through my mind, over and over again.

  Stepping out into the hallway after the performance. Feeling about two inches tall. Wanting to run away.

  And then Mr. Brailsford turning to my parents and saying, “Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey, I’m about to ask you something I very rarely ask of parents.”

  Very rarely. That was how he put it.

  I was a basket case.

  “I’d like Jessica to audition for the Dance New York education program, full-time.”

  The words didn’t compute at first. As if Mr. Brailsford had suddenly switched to Lithuanian.

  “Audition?” Aunt Cecelia spoke up. “But you already know how she dances.”

  “You’re right,” Mr. Brailsford said. “However, all decisions about full-time students are made by a committee, including the other teachers. And they need to see Jessica. If they like her as much as I do, she’s in.”

  It was sinking in. I was light-headed. He was singling me out.

  My future was racing before my eyes. My name in lights.

  I wanted to scream. I bit my lip.

  “Well,” Daddy said. “Well. That’s an honor.”

  “You mean, she would have to leave home?” Mama said. “Live in New York City?”

  “Is this a boarding school?” Aunt Cecelia asked.

  Mr. Brailsford shook his head. “Sometimes students stay with relatives. Or a parent takes an apartment in the city. If neither of these is an option, we can help place students with the families of classmates.”

  Mama’s brow was all furrowed. “I have to admit, I feel funny about this.”

  “Let’s not jump the gun,” Michael spoke up. “He’s asking Jessi to audition. She has to earn the spot first.”

  “Of course she’ll earn the spot, Michael!” Aunt Cecelia snapped. “Must you be so negative?”

  “You needn’t make a decision right now,” Mr. Brailsford said. “We can squeeze in the audition tomorrow before the start of classes. Then, if Jessica makes it, she can start at any time — now, next semester, next year …”

  “The important question is,” Daddy said, looking me squarely in the eye, “is this what you want, Jessi?”

  The word yes left my mouth before I could put a thought together.

  “Michael and I would be happy to have Jessi another night,” Marian said.

  Mama and Daddy exchanged a long look. Then Mama nodded.

  “Well,” Daddy said with a sigh, “I suppose the audition is the easy part of the decision. We’ll worry about the hard part later, if we need to. Your mama and I think you should at least have the opportunity. I’ll contact SMS and let your teachers know you’ll be absent. I can leave work early tomorrow and drive in to pick you up at five-thirty.”

  “Really?” was the only word I could manage to say.

  “I’m delighted,” Mr. Brailsford said. “See you at the studio tomorrow morning, fifteen minutes before the session? We’ll make sure Jessi has plenty of activity the rest of the day. She’ll be with the kids who are starting the new session.”

  I don’t know how I kept my cool as we said our good-byes.

  The moment we stepped onto the elevator, I nearly exploded with joy. I wrapped my arms around Mama and Daddy and thanked them a million times. I didn’t care who was watching us.

  “I say we head to Chinatown for a family celebration!” Daddy declared.

  Outside on the sidewalk, Maritza, Tanisha, and Quint were waiting. When I told them what happened, they shrieked.

  “What if you make it?” Maritza asked. “Will you accept?”

  “I guess I’ll have to work it out,” I replied.

  “You’ll never regret it,” Tanisha added. “I haven’t.”

  “If you have any doubts, call me,” Quint said. “It’s payback time. I owe you for Juilliard.”

  Aunt Cecelia was nodding proudly. “They’re right, Jessi. They’re not wasting their talents.”

  I could see Michael rolling his eyes. “Unlike me, huh?” he muttered under his breath.

  “John, what about Becca and Squirt?” Mama was asking Daddy.

  “While I get the car, would someone call the Pikes and tell them we’ll be late?” Daddy asked.

  Aunt Cecelia agreed. She walked off to a pay phone while Daddy jogged to the car lot.

  How was Chinatown? Fun, but I was already n
ervous about my audition. I could hardly eat.

  Anyway, I was thinking about all of that on Thursday morning, as I lay in bed. And my stomach was beginning to grumble.

  I tried to go back to sleep. No way. So I got dressed and went to the kitchen to fix myself breakfast.

  Marian and Michael must have heard me. They emerged soon after. Michael made us oatmeal, while Marian put on a soothing jazz CD. That helped calm my nerves.

  I was silent as I rode the subway into Manhattan with Michael.

  I tried to look cheerful as I walked into the studio.

  Behind a table sat five grim, tired faces. The other Dance New York instructors. I’d seen them in the hallways but never met them.

  As Mr. Brailsford introduced me, I could feel my knees starting to knock.

  Fortunately, Toni entered the room then. She has such a warm smile. I immediately felt at ease.

  “Let’s start,” Mr. Brailsford said, walking toward me. “If something’s not clear, just stop me.”

  My mouth nearly hit the floor.

  He — Mr. Brailsford himself — was going to give me the combination.

  Talk about difficult. This combination was impossible.

  He went through each step about three times. I tried to follow. I tried to memorize. I practiced several times alone, with the piano accompaniment.

  “Okay, let’s see what you’ve got,” barked one of the teachers.

  I died. I blew it. Egg on face.

  “Let me try again!” I pleaded.

  “It’s early,” Toni said with a smile. “I can barely walk at this hour.”

  Right.

  I took a deep breath. I thought to myself, Where there’s a will, there’s a way.

  And I tried again.

  This time I made it through. The instructors were all scribbling away, whispering among themselves.

  Mr. Brailsford quickly taught me a second, jazzier piece.

  I was feeling confident now. I performed that one too. I even added a flourish of my own at the end.

  The fifteen minutes seemed to pass in a few seconds. The teachers smiled and left for class.

  I felt totally wrung out.

  “Very nice, Jessica,” Mr. Brailsford said as I wiped my face with a towel.

  “If you want to call me back or something,” I said, “I’ll be in Stoneybrook tonight —”

  Mr. Brailsford shook his head. “I won’t be calling you back. We’ve seen enough.”

  Ugh. My breath caught in my throat. I felt as if he’d punched me in the stomach.

  “That’s okay,” I said, fighting back tears. “I really enjoyed it, and —”

  “There’s no pressure, of course,” Mr. Brailsford said. “You can choose to start right away or wait for the spring session. Even next fall, if your parents prefer — ”

  “Start? You mean —?”

  Mr. Brailsford smiled warmly. “Jessica, I knew from the beginning. I just had to let my colleagues see you. They agree with me. You’re in. You’re one of us now.”

  “And then he said —” I dropped my voice as deeply as I could. “ ‘You’re one of us now.’ ”

  “He didn’t!” Mama exclaimed.

  “He sure did,” Daddy said.

  Aunt Cecelia raised her eyebrows. “You weren’t there.”

  “No, but I heard the story several times on the way home,” Daddy replied.

  “He sounds like Darth Vader,” Becca remarked.

  “So I can start tomorrow if I want,” I said. “I already met some of the kids in the full-time program. They’re really nice and —”

  “Jessicaaaaa,” Daddy said in his warning voice. “We talked about this in the car. You know this is going to take some hard thinking.”

  “So let’s think now,” I said. “I mean, I called Michael and Marian after the audition. They said I can stay with them.”

  “I know, darling,” Mama said. “Michael called us too.”

  Aunt Cecelia was smiling. “He’s grateful to you, Jessi. You inspired him, you know. He’s started painting again. He told me he really wants your dream to come true.”

  I could hear pride in Aunt Cecelia’s voice. That made me feel good. She ought to appreciate her son.

  “I feel it would be too much to ask of them,” Daddy said. “They’re a busy young couple. As much as they love you, we can’t ask them to be your guardians year-round.”

  “I wish one of us could take an apartment in the city,” Mama said. “But that would mean quitting a job and losing that income plus paying the rent on the apartment. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to Becca and Squirt.”

  “Yeah,” Becca said.

  “I could commute,” I suggested.

  “That’s over four hours of traveling every day,” said Daddy.

  Mama looked horrified. “Alone?”

  “I’d meet her at the Stoneybrook station,” Aunt Cecelia said.

  “Fine, but what about in New York?” Daddy asked. “How would she get to Grand Central Station at the end of the day?”

  “You might get mugged,” Becca piped up.

  “I could ask one of the other kids to take the subway with me,” I said.

  “Two eleven-year-olds riding the subway alone?” Mama said.

  “I’m not a baby!” I exclaimed.

  “She’s right,” Aunt Cecelia agreed.

  Daddy glared at her.

  Mama sighed. “Look, Jessi, it’s late. We’re all tired. I don’t want to argue and wake up your brother. Let’s sleep on this. It’s a complicated issue. And the transportation is only part of it. Even if by some miracle we worked it out, you still have a lot to think about. Do you really want to leave Stoneybrook — your school, your friends, the Baby-sitters Club?”

  I didn’t have an answer to that one.

  In fact, the question kept me up most of the night.

  Could I give everything up?

  I loved my New York friends. I’d had the best time with them. I hadn’t even missed the BSC that much.

  But now that I was home, I couldn’t wait to talk to Mal. Or my other BSC friends.

  I thought about our school trip to Hawaii. About a bus ride we took through this gorgeous mountain scenery on the island of Oahu. I had vowed to myself I would someday move to Hawaii. But I couldn’t help noticing that a few people on the bus were fast asleep. “Commuters,” Stacey had said. “They probably see this every day.”

  I remember thinking: If you can be bored with this, you can be bored with anything. Better to be a visitor. That way, scenery will always be spectacular and romantic.

  Well, I had been a visitor to New York. And it was spectacular and romantic too.

  What would happen if I moved there? Would it become routine, the way Hawaii had become for those commuters? Would I be caught up in the competition and professionalism, like Tanisha? Always worrying about auditions and injuries?

  Would that be worth leaving Stoneybrook, my family, and my friends for?

  I drifted off. I never did find the answer.

  * * *

  Boy, did it feel good to see Claudia, Stacey, Mal, and Mary Anne the next morning. They were waiting for me on the corner of Locust and Fawcett — the way it’s been every morning before school. As if I’d never left.

  “Welcome back!” Stacey shouted, throwing her arms around me.

  “Are you a star yet?” Claudia asked.

  “She is around here,” Mary Anne said.

  They were full of questions. I had time to tell them only a fraction of what had happened.

  They told me about the so-called surprise party, but just briefly. Claudia quickly changed the subject. “So, how did your audition go?”

  “Fine,” I said.

  “Are you going to be in some big ballet or something?” Claudia asked.

  “Unfortunately, no.” It was my turn to change the subject. “So, tell me everything that happened here.”

  Okay, I didn’t mention a thing about Mr. Brailsford’s offer.

/>   I didn’t want to.

  For something this big, I wanted to talk to Mal alone first.

  I planned to bring it up at our lockers. But I chickened out.

  At lunch, I managed to tell her about my final week. Well, most of it. A few other friends sat at our table, and I had to repeat my story from the beginning a few times.

  It wasn’t until later, on our walk home, that we had some privacy.

  That was when Mallory told me the full story of the surprise party. She tried hard to make it sound funny. Like something out of a sitcom.

  But it wasn’t funny.

  And I felt guilty.

  “I can’t believe no one at home told me about this,” I said.

  “Becca probably forgot,” Mallory said with a laugh. “And I guess your mom and dad didn’t want you to feel bad.”

  “Well, I do. You all showed up, and I finked out.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. We just shouldn’t let Claire take messages.”

  I pictured the room full of people. My friends. All waiting for me. All pulling together at a moment’s notice.

  Would my friendships with Maritza and Quint and Tanisha and Celeste be as close?

  Could any friendships ever be as close?

  Maybe.

  Maybe not.

  “So, what was your audition for?” Mallory asked.

  Gulp. Sweating time.

  “For a different ballet program,” I replied.

  “Really? How did you do?”

  “Pretty well.”

  “Great.”

  I braced myself for the questions: What program? and Are you going away again?

  But Mallory never asked.

  So I didn’t say another word about it.

  I wasn’t ready to.

  I’d been wrong. I didn’t need to talk to Mallory about my decision.

  I needed to make it myself.

  We said good-bye, and I headed home.

  My mind was going a mile a minute as I walked in my front door. I could hear Becca inside playing with Squirt. Aunt Cecelia was sitting on the living room sofa, reading a newspaper.

  “Welcome home, darling,” she said.

  I sat next to her. “Aunt Cecelia, you really do want me to become a ballerina, don’t you?”

  Aunt Cecelia put down her paper. “Jessica Ramsey, are you trying to get me to convince your parents to send you away?”

  “No! I just want an honest answer.”