even the one without a brain can be sexier than you, Alexandra! You must work baby, you really must work.”
Alexandra bit her lip and nodded, trying to do it better.
“All right boys … now we will work on the lifts, yes? All right, you enter, both boys carrying the girl … Anna, you try first. Leon downstage, Jonathon upstage … yes. Now, Anna, you come on sitting on their shoulders. Yes, arms like this. Leon, don’t drop the girl! Lower Anna down gently, she is your princess, you are a slave, do you want to be executed? Yes … now walk slowly down the centre … the corps are here, and here, ignore them, they are your slaves, they are like the furniture. Now Anna, the part we worked on last day … yes, hold the arabesque … now, Jonathon you pick her up like this … Leon, you stand here and present, be ready … Now start walking back Jonathon, Leon, take her hand … now lower her down. No, not like a sack of potatoes! She must stay in the arabesque, tilt her more forward. Anna, hold your stomach, baby. Alexandra! Are you paying attention? Because I will not be happy if I have to waste time going over this again. Now we will try it with the music.”
He walked over and started to fiddle with the CD player. They heard the music for Spanish choreography, and the boys began dancing. Mr. Moretti swore and tried again, getting Chinese. Jonathon and Leon happily jumped the Chinese jumps.
“Having fun?” Mr. Moretti called out angrily, not turning around. He swore again and began muttering in Italian. “Where did the Arabian music go? It was right in between here and here.”
“Maybe Mr. Yu accidentally erased it?” Jonathon suggested.
“Why would that man have done that? No, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.” Mr. Moretti tossed the CD case down on the table. “I believe you. Now you will just have to hear me singing. Have fun, children. From the beginning please, Anna still.”
Alexandra tried to mark the choreography on the side, but it was hard to mark choreography that was mostly highly stylized pas de deux work. She smirked; Anna’s back was completely red from Leon and Jonathon sliding her down wrong. They all suddenly stopped, as they heard Mr. Yu yelling in the next room. Mr. Moretti glared furiously at the wall that divided the two studios. “Shall we try it again?”
When the rehearsal was almost over, Mr. Moretti looked at his watch. There were two minutes left. “Alexandra, now you try,” he announced, smiling his Cheshire cat smile. Alexandra drew a deep breath and walked over to Jonathon and Leon, who were groaning in mock pain.
“All right, from the beginning, with Alexandra. Five … six … seven, eight, and … No, Alexandra hold yourself! Try again. Fine, just continue. I can’t watch that anymore.” Mr. Moretti folded his arms. He didn’t bother singing, and the silence was overpowering. When they finished, they all stood awkwardly in the centre of the room.
“Are you finished?” Mr. Moretti asked, sounding pained. Alexandra nodded, blushing. She began to wiggle her feet around nervously. “I will not let anything like that go on stage. You were obviously not watching. When you are in the studio, I am God. Do you understand me? When you are outside of the studio you may do whatever you wish, but here I am God and you must obey me. If I say do something, you do it. Exactly how I said. And pay attention the entire time. Okay, everybody may go home.”
Anna burst into giggles as soon as they reached the stairs. “Omigod, that was hilarious!” Wait ’til I tell Grace, she’ll love that one. That was totally classic Mr. Moretti. ‘I am God …’” Alexandra felt sick. She rushed to get changed. She wanted to get out of the academy before everyone else got out of rehearsal.
As she trudged up the stairs she stopped to look at a framed photo of Leonie Camden on the wall. The Demidovskis framed pictures and news clippings of their favourite graduates on the wall, and she was one of Alexandra’s favourites. Leonie graduated four years ago, and she had accomplished everything that Alexandra dreamed of. Leonie got her RAD Solo Seal award at sixteen, and she was always chosen for solo and principal roles. After winning gold at the Prix de Lausanne during her graduation year, Leonie was invited to join the San Francisco Ballet.
Alexandra smiled to herself, looking at the picture of Leonie in arabesque. It was taken right after she won gold. Leonie looked exhausted but happy as she posed in her tutu. Alexandra had watched Leonie perform that variation on YouTube a million times. She always imagined herself in Leonie’s place, trying to feel the way Leonie’s muscles worked during the harder parts, the way the lights would appear, the size and rake of the stage.…
Alexandra continued up the stairs. Her resolve was back.
“Alexa! Alexandra!” Mrs. Demidovski had spotted her from inside the office and called her in. “Come here, eh?” She gestured at a chair.
“Hello, Mrs. Demidovski,” Alexandra said nervously. She walked quickly into the office and sat down, twisting her hands nervously in her lap.
“Where is your coat? You need coat go outside, it is cold! I don’t want everyone get sick before The Nutcracker, cannot be some fever, some cough, some something else.”
“I’ve got a coat right here.” Alexandra held it up for inspection.
“Ah. It doesn’t look warm enough, eh?”
“It’s warm.”
“Ah that’s good. So, you have lots of friends here? Grace? Grace is good girl, good friend for you. Also new boy, what is name … Mr. Demidovski like? Julie?”
“Julian?”
“Yes, yes. Good boy, nice body. And Tristan, work hard, much improve.” She started chuckling at the idea of Tristan. “You’re a good girl, much improve. Don’t worry, just work, eh? Get stronger, then more roles, okay? Must fight, be strong. Sometimes there is tree, a little cherry tree, have pretty blossoms … it is growing, watered … but then an axe come, whack!” Mrs. Demidovski hands were like knives as she mimed chopping the little tree into bits. “Chop, chop … must not be like this, must be strong, too hard to chop down. And if axe come, chop, must grow back, stronger. Cherries come. Yes? You need something, come talk to Mrs. Demidovski.”
“Okay. Thank you, Mrs. Demidovski.” Alexandra felt absurdly elated.
Mrs. Demidovski sat back; the conversation was clearly finished. Alexandra stood up, nodded, and smiled awkwardly, thanking her again.
As Alexandra walked toward her mom’s car, the happiness she had felt from Mrs. Demidovski’s words slowly evaporated as common sense kicked in. It was alright for Mrs. Demidovski to say “be a good girl, work hard, wait,” but Alexandra had been waiting and working ever since she came to the academy. Grace and Anna never had to wait, and they hadn’t even won a bronze, Alexandra fumed. I am just so tired of the whole academy!
“Hey, how was rehearsal?” Beth asked as Alexandra got in the car.
“Hell, as usual. I seriously hate Mr. Moretti,” Alexandra said, pulling her pointe shoes out and placing them on the car cup holders.
“Alexandra, put those away! They stink!”
“They’re wet! If I leave them in my bag they’ll just stay wet, and then they’ll melt, and then they’ll be dead and I’ll have to use a new pair tomorrow.”
“All right, fine. But put them on the back seat.”
“Fine. Oh, and Mrs. Demidovski
