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Alexandra Dunstan

Excited for Harbour with Julian Reese and Tristan Patel!

Alexandra went down the list, counting. “Three pictures of tendu à la seconde, head shots for all of them, four in arabesque, three letters of reference …” she muttered.

Emma came into her room without knocking. “Mom wants to know if you want breakfast before you go to rehearsal.”

“I’m not going to rehearsal right now, I’m going to Harbour and then rehearsal.”

“Whatever,” said Emma, raising her eyebrows and flopping onto Alexandra’s bed. “How come you have so many black bodysuits out?”

Alexandra sighed. “I need to decide which one is best, so I know which one I am wearing for auditions.”

“I like that one,” Emma said, pointing at a black bodysuit laid on the pillow. Alexandra glared at her. That one was her favourite, but she didn’t feel like agreeing with Emma right now.

“Go away, Emma.”

“Aren’t auditions after Christmas? How come you’re getting ready now?” Emma showed no signs of leaving.

“Because I want to.”

“Oh, okay. Do you want break—”

“Yes, go away!” Alexandra yelled. She pushed Emma out the door, shut the door behind her, and turned back to her computer. She sighed, looking at the pictures on the website. Crossing both fingers, she looked up. Please, can I just get in somewhere and go. Royal Ballet School would be nice, but obviously SFB or SAB would be cool too. Really, I’m not that picky, any of the others would also be appreciated.

Beth called upstairs, “Alexandra, if you want me to drive you downtown, we have to leave really soon. Get down here and eat breakfast.”

Alexandra went downstairs, grabbing her bag. When she saw the waffles, she asked, “Actually, can I get something to eat downtown?”

“Alexandra.… Okay, I guess we don’t really have time for you to eat here anyway.” Alexandra grabbed a banana and followed her to the car.

As they drove downtown, Alexandra sang along to Linkin Park, “Hands held high into the sky so blue/The ocean opens up to swallow you.”

“Is that the music from your contemporary solo?”

“No, Mom. I couldn’t use it for a contemporary solo. I’m thinking of this one, though,” she said switching the song. “Do you like it?”

“Yes, I like that one. Look over there. What are they protesting this time?”

Alexandra rolled her eyes. “It’s called Flux.”

“What, the protest?”

“No, the song.” They pulled up to Harbour. Alexandra looked at her cellphone. She had enough time to go to Starbucks before Jules and Tristan got there. She ran across the street and ordered a Clean Green juice. When she looked out the window, Jules and Tristan had just arrived.

“Hey,” she said as she reached them. “It’s right here.” Jules was looking around, confused.

“Wow, I was standing right in front of it,” he said. “Is it really small?”

“No! It’s upstairs, it’s quite big actually.”

“Geez, that’s a lot of stairs,” Julian said.

As they stretched in the studio, Julian asked, “Who’s the dude in the pink girl’s tights?”

“He’s here a lot,” Alexandra whispered. “He has mental problems. The government pays for his classes here. He’s fine though.”

The teacher came in, and Julian sat up quickly. “She’s really tall,” he sounded surprised, “and, like imposing-looking.”

Tristan agreed. “She used to go to the academy, you know.” He ran over to her.

“Come on,” Alexandra said, grabbing Julian’s arm.

“Hey! I’m so glad to see you guys,” the teacher said, putting down her coffee and hugging Tristan and Alexandra. “And who is this?” she asked, smiling at Julian. “I’m Leah.”

“That’s Jules. He’s new at the academy.”

“Oh, I see. Don’t listen to the academy too much, hey?”

“Okay!” Julian said, grinning.

“Well, let’s start!” Leah addressed the whole room. There was a cheer and everyone moved onto the floor, shedding extra clothing and taking last swigs from their water bottles. Alexandra grabbed Julian’s arm and led him to the centre. Tristan went to the very front, a bit to the left.

Leah interrupted the class twice to correct Julian’s placement. “See?” she said to the class, one hand pushing his back in, the other pushing his stomach in, and her head shoving his ribs to one side. “When Jules finds this position, he is in a much more stable place. This will really improve your ballet, too. You’ll really notice the difference in everything you do.”

She finally moved on to across the floor exercises. “And five, six, seven, eight, and slide-brush-in-breathe … and one! Feel your back curve, and up — and fall. Alexandra, suspend — yes, that’s right!” The class clapped and Alexandra grinned happily as she ran off. “Paul, you need to breathe, just fall. And jump! Five, six, and go —”

Julian grabbed his water bottle at the side of the room.

“So? Do you like it?” Tristan whispered excitedly. Julian nodded, choking on the water.

Alexandra ran over to them. “Jules! You’re really good at jazz. Come across the floor with me?”

“Sure,” Julian said, concentrating on not hiccupping. Tristan glared at him. “Why don’t we go as a three?”

“Sure,” said Alexandra, smiling and taking Julian’s arm. “Come on, we can go in the next group.” They joined with a girl in brightly coloured Lululemon tights, forcing Tristan to go in the group after.

“Good energy, Julian!” Leah called.

“I really like this class!” Julian whispered excitedly as they walked to the other corner. “I’m totally stoked to come again.”

“Yeah, let’s come again without Lexi.”

“What?” Julian was puzzled.

“Nothing. Come, quick — we can go in this group.” He shoved Julian ahead of him.

“Okay,” said Julian. They danced across the floor without Alexandra.

After class, they got changed quickly, so they wouldn’t be late for rehearsal. As soon as they’d left the changing room, Tristan walked quickly for the stairs, tossing a sunny “Bye-bye!” to the lady at the desk.

“Hey, Tristan,” Julian said, interrupting his chattering about how great the class had been for the first time. “Alexandra’s still getting changed.”

Tristan stopped walking. Alexandra came out a couple seconds later, and they all went downstairs together. Julian couldn’t stop talking about how cool Leah, in particular, and Harbour, in general, were, and Alexandra easily gushed about both of them with him. Tristan tolerated this for about two blocks, but then he’d had enough and interrupted them.

“I bet Leah would choreograph a solo for you for competition, if you asked her.”

Julian immediately stopped walking and turned to him. “Do you think so? That would be friggin’ awesome!”

“Yeah, sure. She’s done loads for me.”

“She did one for me last year,” Alexandra said. Julian did a happy little skippity hop.

“Okay, stop that,” Tristan said. They reached the academy and went to get changed. Tristan smirked at Alexandra as he followed Julian into the boys’ changing room. She rolled her eyes and went off to to the girls’.

“Dmitri’s coming to rehearsal today,” Grace announced to the washroom at large.

“Good,” Aiko said, smiling as she fixed her bun. “I am happy to finally rehearse with him! I was beginning to wonder if the first time would be on stage.”

Alexandra scooted in between the two of them to put her hair up.

“How come you’re so late?” Grace asked. Alexandra shrugged. “You should get here early. You know how much Mr. Moretti yelled at you last time. I just don’t want you to get yelled at again. You should probably go over his corrections before we go in. Do you want me to help you?”

Alexandra stuck hair pins in her mouth just before Grace finished speaking, and then mimed that she was too busy with her hair to answer.

“Okay, okay. I was just trying to help.” Grace left to go upstairs. And the rest of the girls quickly followed.

In the hallway, Dmitri was sitting on one of the chairs, everyone in a semi-circle around him. He was not tall, or skinny (in fact, he was a bit chubby for a dancer) and he was rather lazy. He was tolerated because he was strong, and also because the company was always short of male dancers. He rarely bathed, believing that body spray worked just as well as water, and laughed if anyone complained (he also thought that not bathing proved he was straight). And he was scary to do pas with, since he liked to threaten to drop girls as they were in the air. Dmitri also liked to amuse himself by waiting until the very last second to catch his partner and experimenting with using only one or no hands to partner. Nobody really wanted to work with him, but he was in the company, so they all tried to, just for the status of it.

“I like to dance balls out,” Dmitri was saying as Alexandra came and joined them.

“So — no dance belt?” Anna joked.

Dmitri looked at her. “You think you’d like it if I dance with no dance belt?” Anna shook her head, but Dmitri ignored her. “Okay, maybe you’d like it like this?”He stood up and swung his hips all around. “I have no problem with that.”

“I don’t think that it’s that large,” Grace said drily, making sure that Dmitri couldn’t hear her. Alexandra grimaced. Dmitri was wearing white knit tights that were so old that they were completely see-through. He always wore them over nothing but his skin coloured dance belt. To complete the effect, he would roll the tights and the dance belt together, down over his hips, so you could see way more of his butt than anyone wanted. Not to mention that his white shirt was too short for him, and stopped quite a bit before his tights, giving everyone a good view of his belly. He, of course, was under the impression that this made him irresistible. No one seemed to agree.

Mr. Yu came out and called Grace, Dmitri, Tristan, and Aiko into the studio. He slapped Dmitri on the back fondly as he entered the studio. “No drunk today?

Anna, Alexandra, Leon, and Jonathon were left waiting for Mr. Moretti in silence. Just when Alexandra thought she couldn’t stand the quiet anymore, Mr. Moretti called them in. Alexandra tried to avoid eye contact with Mr. Moretti.

“Today will be good for you, boys,” Mr. Moretti said. Leon and Jonathon groaned.

“Now, babies,” Mr. Moretti continued, ignoring Leon and Jonathon. “This must be sexy. I mean it, babies. If it is not sexy, I will kick you out. Go to your room, close the door, and practice in front of the mirror. It must have fire, passion.” He taught them the first bit. “No, no! Alexandra, you move like you are very, very shy. It must be sexy, baby. Practice in front of the mirror, look at yourself. No, no, now you just move your hipses. You are not doing hip hop, you must be slow, controlled. And move, and move … like honey, molasses. You think you are the most beautiful woman in the world. Now you hide your face, but not because you are shy. Because you still know that the man is watching you … yes. Anna, now look up and see if it is working … yes.”

Jonathon laughed and imitated them on the side.

“Look, 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 randomly called me into her office after rehearsal.”

“For what?”

“The usual. Be a good girl, everything will be all right. Don’t worry, work hard …”

“How nice of her.” Beth’s tone was sarcastic. “Just to make sure we keep paying her, I suppose.”

“I don’t think so, actually. You know how awkward she is about money. I don’t really understand her. I swear, it’s like Mr. and Mrs. Demidovski really like me every time they talk to me, and then casting comes up and I don’t know what happens.” Alexandra winced. “Ow! I need ice … and Tylenol.”

“Tylenol? I don’t like you taking it so often.”

“Mom, my ankle’s killing me.”

“Okay, but be sure. I don’t want you ODing on Tylenol.”

Alexandra started giggling. “I can totally see that in 24 Hours: ‘Ballet Dancer Teen Overdoses on Tylenol.’”

“Alexandra! It’s not funny.”

In her room, Alexandra heaved her bag onto the bed with a groan. She took her school books out; biology, Hamlet, history.… A paper fell out of her English binder. It was a letter from McKinley inviting any Super Achievers students to submit their accomplishments to be posted on the wall and in the student newsletter. Underneath was a reminder to register if you wanted to perform at the school assembly.

Alexandra sat down on her bed and stared at the paper, biting her lip as she considered. Bronze at the Genees might be considered good by the kids at the academy, but she knew that the others in the Super Achievers program would just want to know why not a gold. A girl in her class had made the gymnastics team for the Olympics, and one of the boys had just missed school because he had a special violin solo performance in New York. Katy had just got back from three months of modelling in Italy. And she hadn’t seen Josh or Emily in weeks because they were filming. And that’s just the things I know about, Alexandra thought, pushing her textbooks off the bed so that they fell to the floor with a crash.

“And as for the assembly performance? Forget it!” She said out loud to her history book. The rhythmic gymnasts would steal the show, like they did every year, and the Evergreen Arts dancers would embarrass themselves by performing, which they did every year and never seemed to realize. No, performing was not an option. Especially if Diana was going to perform. Diana was in the program for opera, and she was incredible. Alexandra groaned and lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. She clenched her hands into fists and punched the pillow. If I’d just gotten gold … but I still wouldn’t have performed, I guess. Ballet couldn’t compete for coolness with rhythmic gymnastics and opera, and she couldn’t risk the fallout if people didn’t think she was any good. She couldn’t endure the embarrassment.

“Alexandra! Dinnertime soon, come and set the table,” Beth called.

“Coming,” Alexandra yelled back. She sighed, feeling her jaw line and cheeks. It didn’t seem possible to just stop. She needed to. She would be perfectly fine, and then suddenly everything would seem too much, she would panic stuff food into her body as fast as she could. It didn’t have to be a lot, just fast. And then, she would have to throw it up. She couldn’t dance on a full stomach, it wasn’t possible. Throwing up made her feel so much better. It calmed her down, made her feel like she was succeeding, even if everything seemed out of control. She could walk out of the bathroom and not feel so inferior, and for a couple minutes nothing mattered so much. It was worth it, just for that feeling. But I have to stop doing it so often, Alexandra thought as she felt her face. What is the point if it makes my face bigger?

She sighed and turned on her laptop. Immediately a message from Jules popped up.

Alexandra Dunstan
Julian Reese Hey
Alexandra Dunstan Hey, ‘sup?
Julian Reese Um, nothing. Do you have Leah’s number?
Alexandra Dunstan Ya …wait a sec
Alexandra Dunstan 778-448-2053 is her cell
Alexandra Dunstan She runs Movement Conspiracy, u can google them
Julian Reese Thx!
Alexandra Dunstan No prob
Alexandra Dunstan How was RAD?
Julian Reese Uh…rlly bad
Julian Reese Haha! Always
Julian Reese Was rehearsal good?
Alexandra Dunstan It was ok…
Alexandra Dunstan Gotta go for dinner, see u tmw
Julian Reese K, good night
Alexandra Dunstan ’night
|

Alexandra smiled, looking at the blank screen. Jules is rather sweet …

Emma burst angrily into the room. “Mom said that you had to set the table. I did it yesterday; you have to do it today.” Alexandra ignored her.

“I’m not doing it!” whined Emma.

“Fine! Just be quiet and go away!”

Alexandra went downstairs and began setting the table.