took a breath of the heavyjungle air and moved her focus back to Operation Puppy Love.
Inspiration! Or was it motivation? Allie couldn’t remember what actors said. She smiled to herself as she walked, realizing that it didn’t matter—she had them both.
16
THE MIDDLE OF LAKE ALPHA
DANCE BOOT CAMP HELL
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 6TH
9:12 A.M.
“Music—on!” In the middle of Lake Alpha, surrounded by tree-capped mountains and with nothing over her head except Mimi’s threats of expulsion, a clear blue sky, and a sparkly black swim cap to protect her blow-out, Triple straddled her surfboard like it was a horse and she was a corseted woman in the eighteenth century. She directed her command to the round waterproof aPod amplifier floating like a buoy a few feet away, where “I Will Survive” blasted from the speakers.
Skye crouched into position, her back arched and her arms pressed tightly together, and snuck a look at Triple before tucking her head down between her shoulder blades.
Apparently, Triple owned the water just like she owned the dance studio. Triple’s black wetsuit was totally dry from the waist up—she hadn’t gotten so much as a droplet of wateron it after swimming out to the middle of Lake Alpha with Skye an hour ago. Skye’s skimpy gold string bikini wasn’t so lucky. Shivering and rubbing her hands along her upper arms to try to generate some heat, Skye looked longingly toward the narrow strip of white sand on the shore, where a pile of towels, hoodies, and yoga pants awaited them.
“Tell me why we keep doing the routine to Gaynor and not Gaga?” Skye whined, clawing at the air as a tiny gust of wind threatened to topple her off the shiny white surfboard.
One of Triple’s tawny, slender arms twitched in time with the music, while the other remained firmly planted on her perfectly proportioned hip. She narrowed her golden eyes and shot Skye a look that said
more dance, less talk.
“Because,” Triple growled, “relying on the music to dictate your dancing is one of many bad habits we’re trying to break. Now stop stalling! Keep your focus!”
Skye sighed, squinting her teal eyes at the pine-topped mountains ringing the lake and watching the air-chairs crawl up Mount Olympus like ants on an anthill. She closed her eyes and tried to astrally project herself into one of the chairs, but when she opened them she hadn’t moved an inch from the gently rocking surfboard.
Taking a deep breath of pine-scented air, Skye tensed her muscles and concentrated on keeping her balance on the swaying board. The surfboard routine was all aboutbalance. When she practiced the routine in the llama cage, surrounded by well-placed llama poop, it was all about accuracy. One wrong step, and shoes became ews. When she did the routine in the sauna wearing ankle weights, it was all about endurance.
And when she did the routine in her sleep, it was all about insanity.
For the past twenty-four hours, Triple had been following Skye around, tapping notes into her aPod and creating a spreadsheet that she may as well have called
Reasons Skye Sucks and Should Give Up Dancing for a Career as a Dental Hygienist.
Skye had no idea how she was supposed to get through five more days of one-on-one rehearsals with Triple. Unlike Gloria, Skye wouldn’t survive.
“And a-one, two, three, and four!” yelled Triple, raising a pair of huge waterproof binoculars to her eyes so she could view Skye’s moves in sharp detail. “Remember, strong core! Fluid arms!”
Skye nodded. When this week was over, she’d either be good enough for Alvin Ailey or nuts enough for Alvin and the Chipmunks.
As Gloria began to belt, Skye started the routine. Her feet were like suction cups on the surfboard, stepping and sliding so quickly and carefully that the surfboard stayed horizontal, miraculously not tipping her into the deep.
At first I was afraid, I was petrified
Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side
Determination to stay
Inspiration! Or was it motivation? Allie couldn’t remember what actors said. She smiled to herself as she walked, realizing that it didn’t matter—she had them both.
16
THE MIDDLE OF LAKE ALPHA
DANCE BOOT CAMP HELL
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 6TH
9:12 A.M.
“Music—on!” In the middle of Lake Alpha, surrounded by tree-capped mountains and with nothing over her head except Mimi’s threats of expulsion, a clear blue sky, and a sparkly black swim cap to protect her blow-out, Triple straddled her surfboard like it was a horse and she was a corseted woman in the eighteenth century. She directed her command to the round waterproof aPod amplifier floating like a buoy a few feet away, where “I Will Survive” blasted from the speakers.
Skye crouched into position, her back arched and her arms pressed tightly together, and snuck a look at Triple before tucking her head down between her shoulder blades.
Apparently, Triple owned the water just like she owned the dance studio. Triple’s black wetsuit was totally dry from the waist up—she hadn’t gotten so much as a droplet of wateron it after swimming out to the middle of Lake Alpha with Skye an hour ago. Skye’s skimpy gold string bikini wasn’t so lucky. Shivering and rubbing her hands along her upper arms to try to generate some heat, Skye looked longingly toward the narrow strip of white sand on the shore, where a pile of towels, hoodies, and yoga pants awaited them.
“Tell me why we keep doing the routine to Gaynor and not Gaga?” Skye whined, clawing at the air as a tiny gust of wind threatened to topple her off the shiny white surfboard.
One of Triple’s tawny, slender arms twitched in time with the music, while the other remained firmly planted on her perfectly proportioned hip. She narrowed her golden eyes and shot Skye a look that said
more dance, less talk.
“Because,” Triple growled, “relying on the music to dictate your dancing is one of many bad habits we’re trying to break. Now stop stalling! Keep your focus!”
Skye sighed, squinting her teal eyes at the pine-topped mountains ringing the lake and watching the air-chairs crawl up Mount Olympus like ants on an anthill. She closed her eyes and tried to astrally project herself into one of the chairs, but when she opened them she hadn’t moved an inch from the gently rocking surfboard.
Taking a deep breath of pine-scented air, Skye tensed her muscles and concentrated on keeping her balance on the swaying board. The surfboard routine was all aboutbalance. When she practiced the routine in the llama cage, surrounded by well-placed llama poop, it was all about accuracy. One wrong step, and shoes became ews. When she did the routine in the sauna wearing ankle weights, it was all about endurance.
And when she did the routine in her sleep, it was all about insanity.
For the past twenty-four hours, Triple had been following Skye around, tapping notes into her aPod and creating a spreadsheet that she may as well have called
Reasons Skye Sucks and Should Give Up Dancing for a Career as a Dental Hygienist.
Skye had no idea how she was supposed to get through five more days of one-on-one rehearsals with Triple. Unlike Gloria, Skye wouldn’t survive.
“And a-one, two, three, and four!” yelled Triple, raising a pair of huge waterproof binoculars to her eyes so she could view Skye’s moves in sharp detail. “Remember, strong core! Fluid arms!”
Skye nodded. When this week was over, she’d either be good enough for Alvin Ailey or nuts enough for Alvin and the Chipmunks.
As Gloria began to belt, Skye started the routine. Her feet were like suction cups on the surfboard, stepping and sliding so quickly and carefully that the surfboard stayed horizontal, miraculously not tipping her into the deep.
At first I was afraid, I was petrified
Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side
Determination to stay
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