The Chosen Ones by Lisa Luciano

Author:Lisa Luciano
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Micro Publishing Media
Published: 2017-10-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Carol was happy to dissolve into the shadows in the back of the tiny theater. She thought about retreating before she was spotted, certain she had made a mistake by coming. Then she remembered the words so casually tossed off by two judges at Nationals who didn’t know she was within earshot.

“What does Donovan need to win?”

“How about a personality transplant? He might as well be a robot for all the emotion he shows out there.”

Paige stood on an illuminated stage with three other dancers. As she led them through the number, droplets flew from her body which was covered only by a hot pink leotard, see-through tights, and a pair of scuffed white jazz shoes.

“It’s not happening,” one young man said between gasps.

They all stopped.

“Wait a minute,” Paige said, wiping her brow. “There’s got to be a way to make this work.”

They tried the sequence again.

“Okay. That was better,” she said.

“Better?” he asked. “That was freakin’ outstanding! Wow. Where did you learn to be such a slave driver?”

“From a lady who doesn’t know the meaning of the words, good enough,” she conceded with an air of respect that took Carol by surprise.

“May we stop for lunch?” another dancer asked, pulling off his sweat-soaked headband and waving it with a flourish as he bowed at the waist.

“You may,” Paige said. “Make it salad.”

After their departure, Paige tried the steps once more by herself, but pulled up halfway through, still dissatisfied.

“You’re waiting too long on the break,” Carol called out.

Paige scanned the seats as footsteps filled the empty room. She used her hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the spotlights. Carol slowly stepped out of the velvet haze and stood a few yards from the rim of the stage. Paige had learned long ago how to disguise her emotions. It served her well as she buried her shock under a veneer of coolness.

“Is how have you been a good question?” Paige asked.

Carol shook her head. Paige squatted on the edge of the stage, pushed her legs between her arms, and lowered herself to the ground.

“No. I didn’t think so,” Paige said, grabbing a towel from a nearby chair and patting her face. “Well, you were never much for idle chatter, so why don’t we get straight to the point? Why are you here?”

“Robby’s the best skater in the world.”

At least we agree on one thing, Paige thought.

“But he can’t win with the programs he’s got. Would it shock the hell out of you if I asked you to choreograph new numbers for him?”

“Okay. Where’s the hidden camera?”

But there was no big-toothed master of ceremonies lurking behind the curtains. This was for real.

“I can’t believe this,” Paige said, her eyes almost as wide as her mouth, which was now wedged open.

“I’m not a choreographer,” Carol grudgingly admitted. “When he was a kid, I gave him basic stuff. He practically did it himself. He was so technically good, it was enough to get by. Now he needs someone who can reach in and touch his core and then get him to show it to the world.

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