I unzipped the shoe compartment, stuck in my flip-flops, and pulled out my half-soles. These were shoes that covered the top half of my feet and had a strap across them but were open at the heel. These were the best shoes for a variety of dance styles, like contemporary or lyrical, so I wouldn’t slip on the floor. I sat down on the rubbery marley floor and pulled on a shoe. I winced as I hit a blister, but pulled the shoe on all the way. Blisters came with the territory. So did sore muscles, scabs, and bruises. Us dancers are tough.

I was ready to stretch. As any teacher will tell you a million times, because it’s true, stretching warms up muscles, increases flexibility, and helps prevent injuries. I stood up and began with neck rolls. I could see myself in the mirror as I rolled my head to the left and then to the right. Then I did some shoulder rolls.

Just as I started side stretches, the door opened.

And a giant trophy walked in—with my little sister’s legs and slightly lighter-than-mine brown pigtails sticking out from behind it. Oh my gosh. Hailey. That trophy was almost as big as she was.

“Weeeeeee are the champions, my friend!” the trophy sang. “And we’ll keep on fighting—”

“Hailey, what are you doing with my trophy?” I asked her. “And what are you doing in here?!”

“You were nervous, so I’m reminding you who you are. You’re a champion dancer!” Hailey triumphantly placed the trophy on the floor in front of me. “Like it says on the plaque. Top Junior Solo of the World.”

“Not exactly the world.” I had to grin. “At nationals.”

“Oh. Actually, I never really read the plaque. Well, nationals is still pretty good, I guess,” Hailey reassured me.

Nationals was more than pretty good. It was amazing! It was held in New Jersey, so close to New York City you could see skyscrapers through the windows of the convention center. I had danced a lyrical solo. I’d loved my intricate choreography, the beautiful music, and my shimmery costume. After I’d danced, I’d watched the crowd jump up from their seats and cheer. Including my mom and sister. My sister might be annoying, but she really was my biggest cheerleader.

“Thanks, Hailey. Seriously,” I said. “But now, please hide the trophy, and you need to go!”

“Hide it?” Hailey asked. “But I was going to show your teacher. When she comes in, I’ll announce you like: Drumroll, please . . . introducing the top junior soloist of the nation: Harper!”

Hailey proceeded to fangirl around me, jumping around and squealing and acting like she was going to faint.