Slip Jig Summer Read online

  Copyright © 2018 Elizabeth J.M. Walker

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Walker, Elizabeth J. M., 1983–, author

  Slip jig summer / Elizabeth J.M. Walker.

  (Orca limelights)

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN 978-1-4598-1743-2 (softcover).—ISBN 978-1-4598-1744-9 (pdf).—ISBN 978-1-4598-1745-6 (epub)

  I. Title. II. Series: Orca limelights

  PS8645 A45965 S55 2018 jC813'.6 C2017-904564-4

  C2017-904565-2

  First published in the United States, 2018

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2017949705

  Summary: In this high-interest novel for teen readers, ballet-obsessed Natalie has to spend the summer with her Irish-dancing cousins.

  Orca Book wPublishers is dedicated to preserving the environment and has printed this book on Forest Stewardship Council® certified paper.

  Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.

  Cover photography by Shutterstock.com/urbazon

  Edited by Tanya Trafford

  ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS

  www.orcabook.com

  Printed and bound in Canada.

  For Mom and Dad

  Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  One

  “Has anyone seen my lipstick?” Yumi asked, frantically searching the dressing room’s counter.

  “You mean this one?” Amber asked as she applied a bright red layer to her lips.

  Yumi scowled and held out her palm. “Hand it over.”

  “How do you still not have your own stage makeup?” I asked. I was sitting on the floor doing up my pointe-shoe ribbons.

  “Because I know I can borrow everything from the two of you?” Amber said. She pinned once last loose piece of hair into her bun. “Right, Natalie? Can I borrow your blush?”

  I sighed. “It’s in my makeup bag.”

  Amber smiled as she picked up my pink polka-dot bag and rifled through. I didn’t mind. The three of us had been dancing together for the past five years—since we were ten. We were prepping for our annual year-end ballet recital.

  “Two minutes!” the stage manager called over the intercom.

  “Was that for us?” Amber asked.

  “Yes!” Yumi said. “Hurry up and finish your makeup.”

  I stood and looked in the mirror to make sure I didn’t have any stray hair poking out of my bun. I smoothed out the front of my purple-satin bodysuit. Amber reached over and fluffed up the long purple tutu.

  “I love these costumes,” Yumi said, looking at herself in the mirror. “I can’t believe we’re finally dancing ‘Waltz of the Flowers.’ ”

  I smiled at her reflection. “We earned it.”

  “Waltz of the Flowers” is a dance from the ballet The Nutcracker, but one that isn’t considered too Christmasy. It was performed every year at the recital, and it was always the first dance a class would perform on pointe. The part of Dewdrop was performed by one of the more experienced dancers at the school.

  “One minute!” the stage manager announced.

  “We have to go!” I said to Amber. She was adding some finishing touches to her eye makeup.

  “I know, I know!” Amber said but didn’t budge from the mirror.

  “Amber! Put the eyeliner down!” Yumi said and started shoving Amber toward the door.

  We were in one of the smaller, older theaters in Toronto. There were two levels of dressing rooms backstage, all connected by narrow hallways. We passed other dancers on our way to the stage door: little kids in pink tutus, older dancers in feathery Swan costumes. We met up with the rest of the girls from our class.

  “Pinkies!” I whispered and held up my pinkie finger. I shook pinkies with Amber, Yumi and the rest of my class for good luck before heading through the stage door.

  We had to wait quietly in the wings while the soloist on stage, one of the senior dancers, finished her “Dying Swan” solo from Swan Lake. I got goose bumps on my arms as she danced—it was so beautiful. The crowd applauded as she took her final curtsey and the red velvet curtain came down.

  It was our class’s turn. We got into position in our opening V-formation—with Amber and I at the tip of the V since we were the tallest. The curtain rose. The music began, and we danced. There wasn’t anything else quite like dancing onstage—the lights, the adrenaline making my turns crisper, my kicks higher. I loved the sound of our pointe shoes as we landed a jump in unison, the rustle of our tutus as we moved about the stage.

  It was always over much too soon. We hit our final pose: arabesques around Dewdrop. The audience applauded as Dewdrop curtseyed, and then we Flowers took our own curtsey. The curtain came down, and I sighed as I left the magic of the stage behind.

  Two

  We still had one more dance to perform. We changed out of our purple flower costumes and into much simpler costumes—navy-blue leotards with matching wrap skirts. Our second dance was a more modern dance our teacher, Michelle, had choreographed. It was set to an upbeat violin piece by Lindsey Sterling.

  “Uck,” Yumi said as she patted her forehead with tissues. “Why must dancing require so much sweating?”

  “Dancers do not sweat—we perspire!” Amber said as she blotted her own forehead.

  “Here,” I said as I rooted around in my makeup bag. “I have some actual blotting papers. No need to use up the dressing room’s entire supply of tissues.”

  “You’re always so prepared, Natalie!” Amber said. “Oh, and I might need to use your finishing powder again too.”

  “Of course,” I said, laughing.

  “You’re both taking summer classes, right?” Yumi asked as she began sticking a couple more bobby pins into her bun.

  Amber and I exchanged looks in the mirror. “Of course!” we both said.

  “Only novices take summers off,” Amber said haughtily.

  While we waited for our next dance, we stretched to keep our bodies warm and chatted—about boys at our schools (we all went to different high schools), what dances we might get to do the next year (I was dying to do the “Dance of the Swans” from Swan Lake), and who might be teaching the summer session (sometimes it was Michelle, and sometimes it was a much sterner teacher named Madame Lebrun, who we often called Madame No Fun).

  “One minute until ‘Beyond the Veil,’ ” announced the stage manager.

  “That’s us!” Amber said. “Let’s make Michelle proud.”

  Yumi nodded. “I love this dance.”

  “Me too.” I did a last check in the mirror before I left our dressing room.
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br />   This time we were following one of the preschool classes dancing to “The Teddy Bears’ Picnic.” They wore fluffy white tutus and each held a stuffed bear. It was pretty adorable.

  The curtain came down. Yumi, Amber and I went onstage first. The rest of the class joined in throughout the piece, and all of us did one big combination together. Then we quickly exited, each of us doing a different turn or leap. I danced off doing a series of piqué turns. I lost my balance and nearly fell into Yumi, who was doing a grande jeté.

  “Yikes, close one,” Yumi whispered once we were in the wings.

  “Sorry,” I whispered back and felt my face flush. I would definitely be working on my piqué turns over the summer.

  We headed back to our dressing room, dripping sweat once more. I handed out the blotting papers. Yumi also wiped off her bright red lipstick.

  “Yuck, I can’t stand stage makeup,” she said.

  I wiped off my lipstick too. It always felt tacky and gross, no matter what lip gloss I tried to smooth over top of it. Amber touched hers up.

  “I like it,” she said, admiring her made-up face in the mirror.

  “If you like it so much, maybe you should bring your own next year,” Yumi said.

  Amber changed the subject. “Did your dad come this year?” she asked me.

  “Ha, as if,” I said. “He’s still traveling the world. I got a birthday card from China a while ago. And last year it was New Zealand.”

  “Sorry,” Yumi said.

  “Maybe next year,” Amber said.

  “I doubt it,” I told them. My parents split when I was two. It’s just me and my mom at home, but I don’t mind. She works a lot but always finds time to drive me to my ballet classes. She says watching me do something I’m so passionate about makes it all worth it.

  I changed into my after-show outfit—a blue sundress. I packed up the rest of my things and made sure my costumes were hung up in the garment bag with my name on it. We didn’t get to keep them. We left them in our dressing room to be picked up by one of the costume assistants after the show.

  We had to stay backstage until all of the dances were done, but as soon as they were I headed for the lobby with Yumi and Amber and looked for my mom. She was relatively easy to find, since she was tall, like me. I spotted her carrying a giant bouquet of pink daisies.

  “Mom, you didn’t have to get me flowers,” I said, even though lots of other parents had brought flowers for their kids. I saw Yumi’s dad present her with a bouquet of white roses.

  “You were so beautiful!” my mom said. “Let me take a picture!”

  “Okay. That’s enough,” I finally said. How many pictures did she need of me standing in the lobby, holding my flowers?

  “That first costume was beautiful!” she continued to gush. “You looked just like a real ballerina! And the second dance was amazing!”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I almost fell during my exit.”

  “I didn’t notice. You looked perfect to me,” she said, still smiling.

  “Thanks, Mom,” I said. I could have done the chicken dance in a monkey suit and my mom would still tell me it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. “Is it okay if I go say ’bye to my friends?”

  “Of course! I’ll meet you just outside,” she said.

  I found Yumi with her roses and Amber holding a bouquet of blue and purple orchids.

  “Fancy,” I said to both of them. My pink daisies seemed a bit childish next to theirs.

  “I love daisies,” Yumi said. “They’re super pretty.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “So—see you in two weeks?”

  “Ah, the worst part of the year!” Amber groaned. “Fourteen days to kill between recital and summer session!”

  I laughed and gave both of them a hug. It was going to be a long two weeks.

  Three

  The next morning I got up to find my mom had made pancakes with banana slices for breakfast—our favorite breakfast. My daisies were now in a glass vase in the center of the kitchen table. I dug into my pancakes, but my mom just picked at hers.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  “Natalie, there’s something I have to tell you,” my mom said.

  “What is it?” I asked, my appetite suddenly gone.

  “It’s my job.” Mom works as an environmental geologist. “I’ve accepted a new project, but it means I’ll be working up north for the entire summer.”

  “Oh,” I said. “So I have to go with you? I take it they don’t have ballet schools up there.”

  “Well, no…” my mom said. “I can’t bring you with me. I would love to, but there would be nothing for you to do, and I’ll be working long hours on the survey site…”

  “So…if I’m staying here, how will I get to ballet class?”

  “I know you’re fifteen, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be by yourself all summer,” my mom said. “I already talked to your aunt and uncle in Windsor. They’ve agreed to have you stay with them.”

  “In Windsor? Why are you telling me this now? Why didn’t you even ask me?” My voice was shaky, like it gets right before I start crying.

  “This job is important to my career,” my mom said. “And it’s good money, which will make it easier to afford your dance classes. I waited until now to tell you so it wouldn’t ruin your last week of school and your dance recital.”

  My face burned. I knew she was right about ballet class being expensive. And everything else that went with it—ballet slippers, pointe shoes, leotards, tights, stage makeup…

  “Why can’t I go stay with Dad for the summer?” I asked. When I was eleven, I visited him for two weeks when he was living in Germany. I haven’t seen him since.

  “It’s too expensive to send you to China,” my mom said. “And your dad is so busy and just… well, he wouldn’t know what to do with you for an entire summer.”

  “But…I haven’t even seen Aunt Lydia and Uncle Nolan since I was a little kid. I don’t even remember what they look like.”

  “You’ll have fun with your cousins,” my mom said, still trying hard to sell the idea.

  “They’re just a bunch of strangers to me.”

  “Your dad’s brother and his wife are the closest family we have, honey.”

  “Why can’t I stay with Amber or Yumi?” I asked.

  “I feel more comfortable leaving you with family,” my mom said. “Before Lydia and Nolan moved to Windsor, your father and I were really close with them. I shouldn’t have lost touch with them after your dad left. I think it’s time for you to get to know your cousins again.”

  “Will I at least be able to find some ballet classes there?” I asked.

  My mom sighed. “I feel like we’re already imposing on them enough. I don’t want to ask them to drive you back and forth to ballet classes. Your aunt and uncle both work and already have three other kids to take care of—”

  “So you’re sending me away to some other city to live with people I don’t even know and I can’t dance for the entire summer?”

  “I’m afraid so,” my mom said. “But it’s only two months. It’ll go by quick. Summers usually do.”

  “This isn’t fair at all,” I told her, but I knew it had already been decided. Mom wouldn’t be doing this if there was another option.

  “I’m sorry,” my mom said. “I’ll miss you. And we’ll talk on the phone and email.”

  I nodded. There were no words left for how angry and upset I was.

  “When do I have to leave?” I finally asked.

  “This Thursday. So you still have a little time with your friends and time to pack, okay?”

  I had to swallow the lump in my throat. I didn’t trust my voice, so I just nodded again. I went to my room, leaving my plate of pancakes behind. I threw myself on my bed. I could hear my mom cleaning up the breakfast dishes.

 
I looked at the ballet posters on my blue-painted walls: one of Misty Copeland of American Ballet Theater and another of iconic Canadian dancer Karen Kain doing an arabesque penché. This wasn’t just going to be a summer away from home and my friends. It’d be a summer away from ballet. But my mom was right—my aunt and uncle were letting me stay at their house, so I couldn’t ask them to drive me to ballet classes too.

  I sighed and rolled over to grab my phone.

  “Hello?” Yumi answered.

  “Hi. It’s Natalie,” I said. “I have some bad news.”

  “What?” Yumi asked.

  “I’m not going to be able to do the summer session with you and Amber,” I told her.

  “Oh! Natalie!” Yumi said with a gasp. “Why not?”

  I explained.

  “That really sucks. We have to have a slumber party before you leave!” Yumi said. “Did you tell Amber yet?”

  “No, I’m going to call her right now.” We said our goodbyes.

  After I’d told Amber, we made plans to have our slumber party at my place the night before I had to leave.

  Amber and Yumi came over on Wednesday night. We laid out our sleeping bags and pillows in a row on the living room floor, nestled between the couch and the TV. My mom had promised to leave us alone for the night while she did some packing. Amber had brought a copy of our recital that her dad had recorded.

  “Are you packing any dance stuff?” Yumi asked as one of the senior classes opened the show.

  “Yes,” I said. “I packed my tights and leotards, my ballet slippers and pointe shoes. I’m hoping I’ll be able to find somewhere at their house to practice by myself. I don’t want to fall behind.”

  “I don’t think you’ll fall behind,” Yumi said. “You’re the best dancer in our class!”

  “I am most definitely not!” I said and hit Yumi with my pillow. “You are!”

  “Hey!” she said, smacking me with her pillow.

  “You guys! I’m trying to watch the recital!” Amber said, hitting both of us with her pillow.

  I hit Amber back, and she fell onto Yumi in a fit of giggles. Her laughing was contagious, and Yumi and I began to giggle too. Finally we calmed down enough to watch our own class on the TV. We saw ourselves gracefully dance on stage in our purple “Waltz of the Flowers” costumes. I sighed. The only thing I was going to miss more than my two best friends was dancing.