times — maybe even ten thousand times — in her front yard, and miss it.
But today, when it counted, she had done it perfectly.
And she had done it so amazingly well, right in time with the music, like someone on TV or in the Olympics or something. I had never seen anything like it.
And it had happened right here, right in front of me, in my very own town!
I guess my excitement was contagious, because everyone else in my row jumped to their feet and started clapping, too. I mean, it really was incredible.
“How did she do that?” Courtney whispered to me as she clapped.
How could someone do that, be spinning and flipping and dancing all around the gym, while her baton was flying through the air above her head, and then just reach out at the exact right moment and grab it? There was really only one explanation.
“Practice,” I told her. “Lots and lots of practice.”
“That’s so neat,” Courtney said. “It’s so cool that you know her.”
“I know,” I said, and felt sort of proud. It was easy to forget all the times Missy had sat on me or slammed a door in my face when she was flipping around that mat in time to “I’m Gonna Knock You Out,” making that baton do exactly what she was telling it to, without a single mistake.
By the time she was done, the whole gymnasium, practically, was on its feet, screaming.
And then the music ended, and Missy fell to one knee in her final pose, her hands stretched to the ceiling as her baton, shining like my pirate sword from Glitterati, tumbled down right into them. She didn’t even look to make sure it was where she wanted it to be. She just knew that’s where her baton was going to end up, in her hands.
And it did.
The applause was so loud, I thought the ceiling of the middle school was going to cave in.
“She’s won for sure,” I leaned over to say to Erica.
“Oh, I hope so!” Erica was clapping harder than anyone.
“She has to have won,” Sophie yelled, to be heard over all the applause. “That was amazing! Your sister is so talented!”
“It’s no wonder she’s so moody,” Caroline said. “She has the soul of a true artist.”
Missy took her baton, gave a quick, professional bow, and walked off toward where her coach was standing, to wait for her scores. The crowd was still going wild. Everyone was waiting to see what the judges were going to give her.
But Sophie was right. Missy did win. She got a perfect score for the middle school ladies’ solo event.
Her statue with the little gold baton-twirling lady on it ended up being as tall as I was.
“Wow,” Courtney said, about Missy’s trophy. “She’s really lucky.”
“No.” I shook my head. “Luck had nothing to do with it. It was practice. She practiced every day. Sometimes even in the dark. Her mom would come out and yell at her.”
“Wow,” Courtney said again, impressed.
I guess that rule really is true: Practice makes perfect.
I was going to start practicing a lot more. Practicing everything…ballet, my acting, being a veterinarian. Missy was a total inspiration! If she could do it, why couldn’t I? I completely wanted a trophy like hers in my room. Not a baton-twirling trophy, of course.
But not a picture of me dressed like what I wanted to be someday (not a pirate, but an actress slash veterinarian), either.
Although doing stuff like going to Glitterati could be fun (if you did it with your actual friends) once in a while. If it didn’t distract you from your real goals, and from practicing.
Missy took her victory coolly. She wasn’t a sore winner.
“I should have won in the dance category, too,” she said casually.
But you could tell she didn’t mind coming in second in that event. So long as she had her trophy.
“You know,” Courtney said to me later, “your friends at your new school are nice. You’re really lucky.”
This time, I didn’t correct her.
“Thanks,” I said, looking fondly at Erica, Sophie, and Caroline as they stood
But today, when it counted, she had done it perfectly.
And she had done it so amazingly well, right in time with the music, like someone on TV or in the Olympics or something. I had never seen anything like it.
And it had happened right here, right in front of me, in my very own town!
I guess my excitement was contagious, because everyone else in my row jumped to their feet and started clapping, too. I mean, it really was incredible.
“How did she do that?” Courtney whispered to me as she clapped.
How could someone do that, be spinning and flipping and dancing all around the gym, while her baton was flying through the air above her head, and then just reach out at the exact right moment and grab it? There was really only one explanation.
“Practice,” I told her. “Lots and lots of practice.”
“That’s so neat,” Courtney said. “It’s so cool that you know her.”
“I know,” I said, and felt sort of proud. It was easy to forget all the times Missy had sat on me or slammed a door in my face when she was flipping around that mat in time to “I’m Gonna Knock You Out,” making that baton do exactly what she was telling it to, without a single mistake.
By the time she was done, the whole gymnasium, practically, was on its feet, screaming.
And then the music ended, and Missy fell to one knee in her final pose, her hands stretched to the ceiling as her baton, shining like my pirate sword from Glitterati, tumbled down right into them. She didn’t even look to make sure it was where she wanted it to be. She just knew that’s where her baton was going to end up, in her hands.
And it did.
The applause was so loud, I thought the ceiling of the middle school was going to cave in.
“She’s won for sure,” I leaned over to say to Erica.
“Oh, I hope so!” Erica was clapping harder than anyone.
“She has to have won,” Sophie yelled, to be heard over all the applause. “That was amazing! Your sister is so talented!”
“It’s no wonder she’s so moody,” Caroline said. “She has the soul of a true artist.”
Missy took her baton, gave a quick, professional bow, and walked off toward where her coach was standing, to wait for her scores. The crowd was still going wild. Everyone was waiting to see what the judges were going to give her.
But Sophie was right. Missy did win. She got a perfect score for the middle school ladies’ solo event.
Her statue with the little gold baton-twirling lady on it ended up being as tall as I was.
“Wow,” Courtney said, about Missy’s trophy. “She’s really lucky.”
“No.” I shook my head. “Luck had nothing to do with it. It was practice. She practiced every day. Sometimes even in the dark. Her mom would come out and yell at her.”
“Wow,” Courtney said again, impressed.
I guess that rule really is true: Practice makes perfect.
I was going to start practicing a lot more. Practicing everything…ballet, my acting, being a veterinarian. Missy was a total inspiration! If she could do it, why couldn’t I? I completely wanted a trophy like hers in my room. Not a baton-twirling trophy, of course.
But not a picture of me dressed like what I wanted to be someday (not a pirate, but an actress slash veterinarian), either.
Although doing stuff like going to Glitterati could be fun (if you did it with your actual friends) once in a while. If it didn’t distract you from your real goals, and from practicing.
Missy took her victory coolly. She wasn’t a sore winner.
“I should have won in the dance category, too,” she said casually.
But you could tell she didn’t mind coming in second in that event. So long as she had her trophy.
“You know,” Courtney said to me later, “your friends at your new school are nice. You’re really lucky.”
This time, I didn’t correct her.
“Thanks,” I said, looking fondly at Erica, Sophie, and Caroline as they stood
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