Bring It On by Jasmine Beller Page A

Emerson’s opinion mattered, and it would be easier knowing what her mother was expecting her to come home with instead of going through all those racks trying to guess. Emerson usually called it right. But she’d had to make a few returns.
    Now for the next unnecessary purchase. Emerson hesitated outside L’Occitane. Should she go to Saks or Macy’s to look for the acceptable but pointless dress?
    Saks, she decided. It was closer. And it was near the place with the yummy cookies. She took two steps in that direction and blinked. Olivia Pitre was coming toward her. “Olivia!” Emerson exclaimed. “You’re not supposed to be here!”
    â€œShould I go away?” Olivia teased when she reached Emerson.
    â€œThat’s not what I meant. I just meant, shouldn’t you still be at the Jamison Intensive?” Emerson asked.
    â€œI am,” Olivia told her. “I’m only back until Saturday. My mom’s fiftieth birthday is tomorrow, and my dad’s giving her a surprise party. I’m part of the surprise. I’m staying at the Biltmore tonight so I won’t be spotted.”
    â€œSo what am I missing out on at the Intensive? Tell me everything!”
    â€œEverything?” Olivia smiled. “Where to start? There are classes, classes, and more classes. All kinds of ballet. Pointe. Pas de deux . Character. Some modern dance and jazz, too. And stuff like nutrition and dance history. It’s incredible. Just to do this one thing you love all day, every day. I can’t wait for the Nutcracker auditions this year. My dancing has gotten so much better already. And this year you know we’re moving up to snowflakes.”
    Emerson felt oily guilt slide through her body. Sometime she was going to have to tell her parents the truth about ballet. She was going to have to tell them that she’d made an executive decision to veto it and the Nutcracker . She shoved the thought away. It was summer. She didn’t have to deal with the snowflake issue right this second.
    â€œNow you have to talk,” Olivia rushed on. “You have to tell me all about everybody in ballet class. I want to know all. Like I heard that Felicia broke up with Jared. Can you believe it? They’ve practically been going out since kindergarten!”
    â€œUm, I don’t really know,” Emerson admitted.
    â€œHow’s that possible?” Olivia asked. “You’re in class with her every week.”
    â€œI don’t know. I take the class. There’s no talking in class. I leave.” Emerson shrugged. “I guess you’re the one I mostly talked to.” Except she hadn’t talked to Olivia all summer. Or written her.
    It hadn’t occurred to Emerson that she’d fallen out of touch with her ballet friends. When did that start? she wondered. Probably ever since she’d been feeling that ballet wasn’t as important to her as it always had been. “I’ve been doing something new this summer,” Emerson told Olivia. “I’ve gotten really into hip-hop. I’m in a Performance Group and everything.”
    â€œNo way! We did a little tiny bit of hip-hop at the Intensive,” Olivia answered. “But how are you going to perform with them and do the Nutcracker ?”
    Is the Nutcracker all anyone cares about? Emerson thought. “I think . . . I think I’m going to pass on the Nutcracker this year,” she admitted.
    Olivia’s eyes widened. “No way! That’s our big chance. We get to perform with professionals. At the Intensive they say that’s really important. That it’s never too early to start making contacts.”
    Emerson tried to think of something else to ask Olivia about. Something not related to dancing of any kind. But she couldn’t come up with anything. “I guess I should go. My mom has ordered me to buy a dress.” Is it completely obvious I just want to get away from