“Remember,” she said. “Vanessa changed the high kick in the end to a split jump.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “And don’t forget the arabesque to the new twirl move.”

“I know that. Don’t worry about whether I have all our moves down,” she said dismissively. “Concentrate on yourself.”

“You started this,” I said, annoyed. “Duets are all about making sure we’re both on the same page. We have to help each other shine.”

Megan snorted. I knew what was bothering her—again. She was still bitter that she didn’t get the first-ever solo. We all had wanted that solo—but I was still super happy for Lily.

“It’s Lily, not us, in the solo today,” I reminded her.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t prove that I’m solo material,” Megan muttered.

So that was her plan. She wanted to stand out in the duet in the hopes she’d get the next solo. That’s a risky move, because nowhere in the word “duet” are the letters s-o-l-o. And, PS, the next solo was a big one, because it was nationals! Yes, if we placed high enough today, then we got to go to nationals and nationals this year . . . in NEW YORK CITY!

Then again, Megan has a point. The only person I should focus on was myself at the moment. I wanted to finish strong at regionals. I didn’t want to let down the Squad! I didn’t want let down DanceStarz, the studio I represent! And I didn’t want to let myself down! I worked too hard for this.

We headed down the hall to the changing rooms. Regionals dressing rooms were an upgrade from the local competition. DanceStarz had our own corner, and Megan’s and my mom were waiting for us.

“Great job, sweetheart!” My mom gave me a big hug. “Did you have fun?”

“Fun?” Megan’s mother turned around. “This is not time for chitchat. They need to get ready for their big duet.”

Mom raised an eyebrow at me.

“Don’t engage,” I whispered.

“Don’t let her add to your stress.” Mom smiled at me. Then she frowned. “Where are the girls’ costumes?”

“Oh, I had my assistant do a last-minute steaming,” Megan’s mother said. “No wrinkles, only perfection. She’s bringing them in now.”

We went and sat down in front of the tables set up with mirrors. Megan and I didn’t say anything while our moms helped us with our hair—except for the occasional “ouch” when the bobby pins got yanked out of our hat heads. My mom cleaned up all the pins and took the hat. We both know, though, that I’m better at doing my own hair than she is, so she let me finish. My hair was a little ratty from the bobby pins, so I brushed it out and pulled it up into a high ponytail.

“Mom?” I called her over and swung my pony back and forth.

“Wispie-free!” she said. “Nice and smooth.”

“Where are our leotards? She is taking forever.” Megan was complaining. Megan’s mom’s assistant (I still couldn’t believe she had an assistant) walked in with our leotards on hangers. “Give me mine!”