Page 108 of Dancing in the Dark

“I need you to focus now, Mia.” She places Jordy, that dumb boy from my class whose dumb dad finks Fifi is pretty, beside me. He makes a mean face, kinda like he wants to bite me, so I make a mean face back, cos Cato says you can’t be a baddie if you look scared.

Even if you are, you don’t let the other people know.

“What?” Jordy bumps me wif his shoulder. “Don’t look at me.”

“Shut up.” I bump him back and wipe the dumb tears off my face. Dumb boy. Dumb dad. Dumb everyfing. “Miss Debbie? Did you see F⁠—”

“And we’re moving.” Miss Debbie grabs my hand. She grabs Jordy’s, too, since we’re at the front of the line, then she walks backward like she knows she won’t trip over.

I would.

“Remember to be quiet,” she whispers. “We don’t speak when we dance. Everyone knows where they have to stand.” She lets Jordy’s hand go and presses her finger to her mouth. “Find your places, children. Mia, you’re over here.”

“But, Miss Debbie!” I try to yank my arm back. She’s strong. She’s got grown-up muscles. “Miss Debbie, I don’t want⁠—”

“It’s completely normal to be nervous, sweetheart. Here.” She stops me at the side of the stage and presses her hands to my shoulders. “You stay right here, alright?”

“But Miss Debbie⁠—”

“The curtain will open in about thirty seconds. Can you count all the way to thirty?”

I can count all the way to a hundred! But I’m trying to ask you a question and you’re not listening.

“Start counting, Mia. When the music starts, you go to your right.”

I don’t know which way is right! And I don’t know where Daddy is sitting. I don’t know if Fifi’s here. And most of all, I don’t know if I still have feet.

“Get ready, children.” Miss Debbie walks past all the other kids and presses her hands to their shoulders, too. “No wriggling. No fussing.” She pulls Kara’s finger out of her nose and shakes her head. “No picking either, sweetie.”

If she wants to pick her nose, she should be allowed to! It’s her nose.

“You better dance this time.” Jordy crashes his shoulder against mine and knocks me to the side. “You always ruin our crography when you don’t do your steps.”

“Leave me alone before I tell Cato to punch you in your dumb face.”

You’re a dumb boy. And I have dumb tears in my eyes.

And now the dumb curtains are moving.

Oh no.

“Wooo!” All the moms and dads and brothers and sisters clap for us, even though we didn’t even do any dancing yet. They’re so loud, but except for the moms and dads in the front row, I don’t see all the others.

“Let’s go, son!” Jordy’s dad claps the loudest. He has a seat right up front, which means I see him put his fingers in his mouth and whistle until the sound hurts my ears. “Show ‘em how it’s done, buddy!”

“Where’s my dad?” I cover my ears, cos the clapping is too loud. And the moms and dads. And the brothers and sisters and grandmas and grandpas.

I don’t have a mom. Or a grandma or a grandpa. Or a brother or a sister.

I have a dad. And I have a Fifi. But I don’t see them, cos my dad never sits in the front row.

“Move!” The music starts and Jordy crashes against my side. “Get out of my way, Fletcher.”

Roses are red. Stages are lame. How’m I s’posed to see Fifi’s smile if I don’t even know if she came?

41

FLETCH