I ran to the wings, carrying my toe shoes. All of the dancers who were in the first act were already arranged on the stage. The curtain went up, and the orchestra began to play. I heard applause from the audience. Then the ballet began.
I watched the first act as I put on my toe shoes and did my warming-up exercises. I was beginning to get caught up in the story — the story I’d almost forgotten during those weeks of rehearsal. I’d gotten totally involved in practicing my steps over and over again, and the wonderful fairy tale of the Sleeping Beauty had become less important. But now it was coming to life.
On the stage, the king and queen sat on thrones while each fairy danced a special dance as she presented a gift to the baby princess. Then, just as the Lilac Fairy was about to present her gift, the bad fairy, Carabosse, appeared in a coach drawn by four giant rats. (The rats were dancers from the beginner’s classes.) She shrieked and cackled as she danced, screaming at the king and queen because they had not invited her to the baby’s christening.
The king and queen begged her forgiveness, but she would not listen. Instead, she put a curse on the baby princess — that she would one day prick her finger on a spindle and die.
All the dancers fell back when Carabosse cursed the baby — except for the Lilac Fairy. Lisa looked beautiful in her costume as she stepped forward with her wand held high, driving Carabosse back and trying to remove the curse. The Lilac Fairy couldn’t take the curse off, but she did manage to change it, so that instead of dying, the princess would only sleep — for a hundred years, until a handsome prince woke her up.
I was completely caught up in the story by the time the first act ended and the “fairies” came rushing off the stage. Then I heard the music that was my cue. I took a deep breath and walked onto the stage. I hoped I looked like a real princess — like Princess Aurora, on her sixteenth birthday.
The Rose Adagio began, and almost immediately, I was swept into the dance so completely that my nervousness fell away. I didn’t worry about Hilary. I didn’t worry about whether Becca was going to call my name. And I didn’t worry about whether my friends were having a good time. I just danced.
At the end of the second act, Carabosse came back onstage. She tempted me with her spindle, and when I took it I pricked my finger and collapsed into my hundred-year sleep. The rest of the dancers put me into a bed, and the “magic forest” grew up around me as I slept.
Next, I danced for the prince who had come looking for me one hundred years later. Of course, I was only supposed to be a vision — a dream. He kept trying to dance with me, but I kept escaping from his embrace.
Then I had a rest, as the prince journeyed to find me, led by the Lilac Fairy. And then he found me and kissed me. I didn’t giggle at all. (My friends probably did.) I woke up and danced with all the fairy tale creatures, including Carrie as the Bluebird of Happiness. That part was especially fun.
Then, at the end, I danced with the prince, who was now my husband. The dancer who played him was from another class. I think he’s an eighth-grader. He’s a good dancer, and very strong. That’s important in this dance, because he keeps having to lift me up in the air.
The music in that part is so pretty that I could have danced forever. But finally, the music ended and the performance was over. Carrie hugged me as soon as the curtain came down.
“You were great!” she said.
“So were you,” I answered. “Do you think they liked us?” I listened to the applause. It had started immediately, and it didn’t stop as we took our first curtain call.
“I guess they did!” she said to me, as the curtain went down again.
When we took our second curtain call, she pushed me out in front of the line of dancers. I’d almost forgotten that I was supposed to curtsy by myself. When I did, the applause swelled, and I heard Kristy’s whistle. My dad was yelling “Bravo!” I smiled, and looked to my right. There, in the wings, was Mme Noelle. She smiled back at me. She looked proud.
Then I looked back at the audience. People were starting to stand up — but they weren’t leaving. They were still clapping. A standing ovation! I’d never gotten one before. I felt the tears come to my eyes. And then I saw Becca, her arms full of pink roses, climbing the stairs to the stage.
She walked across the stage and handed them to me, smiling. “Surprise!” she whispered. I took the roses and gave her a huge hug. She’d kept that secret very well. When I let her go, I looked up to see Mallory standing there with another bouquet of roses — white ones. (I guess she knew how I felt about red roses!) “These are from everybody in the club,” she said, handing them to me. “You were wonderful!”
I was speechless. I stood with my arms full of roses, smiling out at the audience, until the curtain fell again. I will never forget that moment!
Then the show was really over. It was time to get out of my costume, wash the makeup off my face, and go back to being Jessi.
I headed for the dressing room and ran into Hilary in the hall. “Jessi, you were fantastic!” she said.
“So were you. So was everybody,” I answered. “Wasn’t it fun?” I’d almost forgotten that I’d ever been worried about Hilary and her dirty tricks.
“I want to apologize again,” she said. “I’m really sorry for what I did. And you know what? After this, I’m quitting dance.”
I was shocked. “You’re kidding!” I said.
“Nope,” she answered. “I never really loved it. Not like you do. I mainly did it for my mother. And I just wasn’t that good at it.”
“You are too good,” I said. I didn’t like to hear her put herself down.
“Not good enough for my mother,” Hilary replied. “And I realized that things had gotten out of hand that day when you confronted me in the dressing room. I must have been crazy to do the things I did to you.”
“How does your mother feel about your quitting?” I asked.
She frowned. “I haven’t told her yet. But it’s my life, and I have to do what I want.”
I gave her a hug. “Good luck,” I said. “I’ll miss you in class.” And as soon as I said it, I knew it was true. I would miss her. Hilary’s okay. And maybe once she quits dance her mother will go easier on her.
When I walked into the dressing room, I saw my friends from the BSC waiting for me. They rushed over to hug me and tell me how wonderful the ballet had been.
“Anybody up for ice cream?” I asked, after I’d thanked them for the flowers. My dad had said that I could invite my friends out for a celebration after the performance.
“Sounds great!” said Mallory, and everyone else agreed. After I’d changed, we walked out of the theater together to meet my family. Becca threw herself at me, and I gave her the toe shoes I’d worn in the show.
“Did you autograph them?” she asked.
“Sure did,” I said, smiling at Mama and Daddy and Aunt Cecelia, who were standing nearby, waiting their turn to hug me. “See? Right there.”
I pointed to my left toe shoe, where I’d written (in red ink, with the calligraphy pen that no longer cursed me), “For Becca, with love from Princess Aurora.”
* * *
Dear Reader,
Like Jessi, I took ballet lessons when I was growing up, although I was nowhere near as good as Jessi is. The first time I took lessons I was about five years old, and I carpooled with three other girls in my neighborhood. One of them was named Lovey, which was a nickname for Adelaide. My dad used to pick us up from ballet, just like Mr. Ramsey picks Jessi up. Dad would arrive in our little blue Renault. The car was old, and every time Dad put on the brakes, the car squeaked. Lovey said that the noise was made by mice who lived in the dashboard. Obviously, since my main memory of ballet lessons is the car ride home, ballet was not as important to me as it is to Jessi. However, although I was not cut out to be a dancer myself, I love all kinds of dance. My favorite is tap! So those lessons were important to me after all.
Happy reading,
* * *
 
; About the Author
ANN MATTHEWS MARTIN was born on August 12, 1955. She grew up in Princeton, New Jersey, with her parents and her younger sister, Jane.
There are currently over 176 million copies of The Baby-sitters Club in print. (If you stacked all of these books up, the pile would be 21,245 miles high.)In addition to The Baby-sitters Club, Ann is the author of two other series, Main Street and Family Tree. Her novels include Belle Teal, A Corner of the Universe (a Newbery Honor book), Here Today, A Dog’s Life, On Christmas Eve, Everything for a Dog, Ten Rules for Living with My Sister, and Ten Good and Bad Things About My Life (So Far). She is also the coauthor, with Laura Godwin, of the Doll People series.
Ann lives in upstate New York with her dog and her cats.
Copyright © 1991 by Ann M. Martin.
Cover art by Hodges Soileau
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc. SCHOLASTIC, THE BABY-SITTERS CLUB, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
First edition, March 1991
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
e-ISBN 978-0-545-69035-5
Ann M. Martin, Jessi and the Dance School Phantom
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