Page 62 of Tendu: Dancing in the Castle

“Yeah, we are,” said Will with great confidence, then lowering his voice so only I could hear. “You could act. I mean, really act. Do your thing.”

“I don’t know.” I considered it, then asked Mr. Timms: “Are we being judged on every aspect of the performance?”

“Of course, my dear, of course,” our ancient teacher confirmed.

It was possibly the greatest level of concentration I had ever put into learning choreography, for that would be my weakness, and it had somehow become imperative to beat Simone and Aleks. Will had retained a good background knowledge of the piece, and half an hour of rehearsal later, we were ready, relatively speaking, for the purpose of the day. The lift practice from the other afternoon proved helpful too. Mr. Timms talked round the kiss, but did not get us to rehearse it.

Justin and Sadie went first. They muddled through, Justin avoiding the kiss with elaborate side-to-side head movements. Sadie looked a little offended. We all bit back laughter and applauded. Ruaridh and Sun were much better. Aleks and Simone were threateningly good, all because of him, though I had the feeling he was holding back somehow. Their kiss was brief and unconvincing but still reminiscent of the Ceilidh, for me anyway.

“I need a minute,” I said, before Will and I began.

“I know what you’re gonna do,” Justin sang. “They’ve won. It’s over.”

It was a scary thought to lose myself, as acting would cause me to do, in front of everybody, and with Will. A muttered discussion took place at the back of the room, the improvised balcony.

“Maybe I shouldn’t do it,” I said to Will. “You’ll have to guide me in the choreography. I don’t know it well enough for this.”

“It’ll stop you being nervous, Malph,” he reminded me. “You’re always better if you’re in character.” That was true. Even though the audience was so small, I still found the thought of performing in front of them daunting.

“Just do it already!” Justin was getting impatient.

“Yes,” said Aleks. “Is too much… what is word? Conferring.”

We began. And I knew I had to act, properly act. This was what I had planned to do: make the most of all opportunities of this sort that happened at the castle.

I was fourteen and in love with Will, for he stayed Will, though I became Juliet. Little vestiges of Amalphia remained to dance and stage direct, and the two girls merged in places. Eventually there was clapping, balcony became floor, and Capulet gave way to Treadwell.

“See, I told you it would be fantastic,” said Justin. “We just needed popcorn.”

Mr. Timms was effusive. “The girl with the perfect line is an actress also.”

Will and I were surrounded, Justin excitedly telling everyone that I could sing too, so was, in fact, a ‘triple threat.’

“Have we won, then?” Will demanded.

“I think so,” mused Mr. Timms. “Though Zolotov and Miss Treadwell both invented some of their own choreography.”

I glanced over at Aleks, but he wasn’t looking our way. In fact, Simone and he appeared to be dramatically bad losers.

“Mr. Hearst had it down better than anyone,” continued Mr. Timms. “And the acting, my dear – I was transfixed – even if the kiss took up rather more of the score than it should have.”

“She’s a creature possessed in the moment, no control whatsoever,” Justin explained. “I once had dinner with Lady Macbeth. Had to wrestle a knife from her hand. The waiter was genuinely frightened.”

“But we won?” Will asked again.

“Hearst,” said Justin. “It’s the taking part that counts remember; the winning is just all that actually matters.” At least he bore no grudge in defeat.

Crammed into the elevator, the doors refused to close as sometimes happened.

Mr. Timms waffled on about ‘the craft.’ “So is it method acting you employ, my dear? Was the embrace based upon your own first kiss?”

“No. I always hated that type of exercise in drama classes. I just inhabit the character. Or she inhabits me. I don’t know.”

“But your understanding of Juliet?” he went on. “What would make her behave in so brazen a manner? A girl with no experience of love?”

“I don’t know.” I jabbed repeatedly at the ground-floor button. “There’s no thinking in the process. I don’t even remember it all that clearly.”

“Treadwell, I’m hurt,” said Will. “How can you not remember a snog like that? It was awesome.”

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