Bunheads Read Online Free

give a happy little hop. This could be a sign of good things to come.
    Bea hurries up next to me, still breathing heavily from her performance, and looks for her own name. “Are you serious? I’m dancing
Unraveling in G
again?” Her red lips look black in the dim blue light, and her pancake makeup covers her freckles completely. “It’s like I’m still an apprentice,” she says grimly.
    “That sucks,” I say. Then, unable to help myself, I blurt, “I’m understudying Lottie in Otto’s new ballet.”
    “Really?” Bea immediately brightens. “Good for you.” She reaches out and gives me a quick squeeze. “See? Otto
was
watching you.”
    Then Daisy and Zoe come over, eager to find their own names. Zoe pushes past us, knocking Bea off balance.
    “God, Z,” Bea says. “Shove much?”
    Zoe ignores her and two seconds later gives a little yelp. “I’m understudying Lottie,” she says, turning to us and smiling, her teeth white and perfect.
    Immediately my heart sinks a little. Of
course
Otto put us together again.
    “I guess Otto was giving me the up-down, too, huh?” Zoe says slyly.
    “Uh, yeah,” I mumble.
    “Hey,” Daisy says. “You guys? Where am I?” She tries to catch a glimpse of the schedule, but we’re all in the way. She jumps up and down, attempting to look over Zoe’s shoulder.
    “Looks like you’re in
Symphony in G
and
Haiku
,” I say.
    “Yes!” Daisy pumps her little fist. “I’ve always wanted to dance
Haiku
.”
    Zoe leans over and whispers in my ear, “What a dork. That’s, like, the lamest part in our rep.”
    “She’s oblivious,” I whisper back. “But at least her delusion will keep her happy. You know how she stress-eats when she freaks out.”
    Zoe giggles.
    “It’s so cool you guys are learning Lottie,” Bea says loudly, trying to make sure Daisy doesn’t overhear us calling her a dork for being so excited about an apprentice ballet.
    But Daisy doesn’t even notice; she bounces off toward the Green Room, her dark hair unraveling from its bun.
    Zoe turns toward me and speaks with deliberate casualness. “You know, Otto will probably rehearse a second cast, which means one of us will dance it.” She thrusts her shoulders back and gives me a little smile. “I
wonder
which one of us he’ll choose….”
    I shrug and turn away, although inside I’m practically seething. We all want bigger and better parts. It’s ingrained in us—the drive to succeed is as natural to us as breathing.
    Behind me I hear Zoe snickering. I guess she thinks she’s funny.
    Honestly, I don’t think Zoe and I would have been friends if she hadn’t sought me out when I first came to the Manhattan Ballet Academy. Like me, she was one of the youngest girls in Level C, and she stood next to me in class. I was too shy to talk to her much, but I was happy to have an almost-friend.
    Over the course of a few weeks, we started talking more, and eventually Zoe invited me to dinner at her apartment. Since I’d been surviving on the slop they tried to pass off as food in the dorm cafeteria, I was thrilled at the idea of having a home-cooked meal. And I was also—though I would never admit this to Zoe—aching for a mother figure, even if it wasn’t my own. I was fourteen and on my own in New York City. It wasn’t easy.
    As I entered Zoe’s Park Avenue foyer, a yappy Pekingese nipped at my ankles.
    “Hello, Hannah,” Zoe’s mother cooed as she leaned against the doorframe. “I’m Dolly. Zoe has told me so much about you.” Dolly’s hair was a darker shade of gold than Zoe’s, but mother and daughter had the same striking green eyes. Dolly wore a crimson velvet robe wrapped snugly around her tiny frame. When she reached out to hug me, holding me tight to her bony sternum, her perfume overwhelmed me. Then she stepped back and craned her neck.
    “Zoe!” she shouted down the hallway. There was no answer. “She is
so
lazy.” Dolly sighed. Then she smiled broadly and picked up a