“I’ve been observing you,” Monsieur Dabrowski starts.
I hold my breath. Should I beg? Plead my case? I try to think of the right words, but my mind goes blank.
“And I’ve decided that level four is not right for you.”
He takes a seat and points to a chair beside him, but I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. Do not cry, I repeat to myself. Do not cry.
“You’re a talented dancer,” Monsieur Dabrowski continues, clearly oblivious to the tornado going on inside my heart.
I nod. I know I’m a good dancer. I work hard. I never give up. I practice for hours until my body molds itself to my will. I strive to move through the air in a way that makes me feel something. But I know that Monsieur Dabrowski doesn’t mean to praise me. He’s just trying to soften the blow. Somehow that makes it worse.
“This summer is going to be challenging. But what I saw today made me think that your skills do not match this level. It might be too hard on you, I’m not sure.”
My chin begins to quiver. I need to sit down after all. My legs are about to give out as I take the seat next to him. To think that just last night I felt like I owned the world. He’s going to tell me I’m being bumped down to level three, isn’t he? Or that there was a mistake, and that I should have never been accepted into the program. Maybe Mom was right all along.
“I’ve decided to move you up to level five.” Monsieur Dabrowski eyes me, waiting for my reaction.
“You…What?” is all I can say. I can’t have heard him correctly.
“You will be in level five starting tomorrow. Make sure you go to the office to get your new schedule and be ready to work harder than ever before.”
Level five! Oh. My. God. This isn’t really happening. My face breaks into a huge smile. “Merci so much! Thank you. Beaucoup, beaucoup.”
“I’m not doing you a favor,” Monsieur Dabrowski says, one eyebrow raised at my excited rambling. “And I reserve the right to change my mind if it turns out that you are dragging the class down.”
I nod, willing myself to stop beaming. He needs to see that I’m taking this seriously.
He’s silent for a moment, and I wonder if this is my cue to leave. I perch on the edge of my chair.
Monsieur Dabrowski gets up, shuffles the papers resting on top of the piano, and then turns around to face me again.
“You may go now, but make sure you have the correct attire for tomorrow,” he adds, pointing his chin in my direction. I look down at my outfit. I’m wearing the knitted leg warmers I usually slip over my pink tights at the end of class, and my gray leotard, of course. I was so proud to put it on this morning. I wanted to FaceTime Grandma when I was dressed, but then I remembered it was the middle of the night at home.
“I’m sorry?” I have no idea what he’s talking about. My pointe shoes are brand-new; I bought four more pairs just for my trip.
Monsieur Dabrowski lets out a frustrated sigh. “Level five students wear the classic leotard from Repetto, white and sleeveless. It’s a tradition at our school.”
“I don’t have a white leotard,” I say in a whisper. “I’m not sure if I can get one tonight—” I’m about to say more when the look of contempt on his face stops me.
“The rules apply to all, Mademoiselle Jenrow. There will be no exceptions. Being assigned to level five is a badge of honor.”
“I am honored! Very, very honored. It’s just that…”
“That what?”
I look down, but I can feel his gaze burning through the top of my head. “I swear I’ll do my best,” I add, desperate.
For a brief moment I think that I could borrow one from Audrey, but aside from the fact that we’re not the same size, I can’t imagine she’d be so generous as to save my butt.
Monsieur Dabrowski clicks his tongue. “It sounds like your best might not be good enough. Please don’t make me regret my decision.”
“I won’t, Monsieur Dabrowski. I promise.”
And to keep this promise, I’m going to scour this city for as long as I have to, until I get my hands on that mythical leotard. Ready, steady…
GO. THE MAP on my phone says that it will take approximately twenty-four minutes to get to the Repetto store, which closes in half an hour. Now is probably a good time to start panicking. I type in a few more searches, sweat coating my palms. There’s another location a few blocks away from school, but it’s already closed for the day.