TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Chapter One: The Last Dance

  Chapter Two: No-Cut Sport

  Chapter Three: Dance Off

  Chapter Four: Oldie But Goodie

  Chapter Five: Showtime!

  Chapter Six: L is for Laughingstock

  Chapter Seven: In Sync

  Chapter Eight: All Glitter, No Gold

  Chapter Nine: Chery on Top

  Author Bio

  Illustrator Bio

  Glossary

  Discussion Questions

  Writing Prompts

  More about Hip-Hop Dance

  Explore More

  Copyright

  Back Cover

  Cover

  Title Page

  Table of Contents

  Start of Content

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  CHAPTER ONE

  THE LAST DANCE

  “Five-six-seven-eight!” Chery Etienne shouted and snapped her fingers to her favorite song. Chery and her dance squad—The Chery Bars—got into position. They bounced softly on their heels and casually looked around. But when the rap started, The Bars went hard. They danced at 100 percent—stomping, pumping their arms, twisting, and sliding.

  Chery hopped in front. Her legs and hips moved one way while her arms and upper body moved another. The Bars followed.

  Chery rolled her shoulders and dipped. She placed her hands on her knees one at a time to the beat.

  “Yeah! Yeah!” Chery yelled over the music. “And jump!”

  Chery tapped Jordyn in. Jordyn moved out front and led the dance. Then she nodded at Chery. They pretended to lasso the other members of the squad, Day-Day and Jolan. The boys leaned back like they were being pulled. When the beat dropped again, they all waved their arms, “breaking loose.”

  “And jump!” Chery called. Everyone landed with a hard stomp.

  “Jolan, go!” Chery yelled.

  “Oh!” Jolan said, shaking his hands to signal he forgot. “I’m used to Kioko going first.”

  “Kioko hasn’t danced with us since June,” Chery said, stopping the music.

  Kioko Tabata used to be a part of the squad. Now Chery’s dance squad consisted of Daniel “Day-Day” Abelman, twins Jolan and Jordyn Jackson, and herself.

  “Honestly, Kioko not being here throws me off too,” Jordyn said, dropping to the ground. “I wish she didn’t have to change schools.” Sweat covered Jordyn’s face.

  They were all sweaty. Chery took a swig from her water bottle.

  “I hope she makes it to the dance-a-thon next month,” Chery said. “She’s the only one who can do my signature move with me.”

  “The Chery on Top!” the others said.

  Chery whipped her waist-length box braids around, brought one leg up straight, and spun. With her leg still in the air, she fell into a split. Then she slid up and fell back down into a split in the other direction.

  Her squad clapped loudly.

  “That’s definitely a showstopper!” Day-Day said. “But Kioko plays rugby now at her new school.” He draped a towel over his head.

  “What if we didn’t do the dance-a-thon?” Jordyn said, giving her brother a look.

  “No dance-a-thon?” Chery asked. She jumped up and did a moonwalk side glide.

  “Our dad said we have our entire lives to dance,” Jolan added.

  Chery stopped gliding and grabbed Jordyn’s and Jolan’s hands. “This is the last summer with our squad! You guys are moving to Germany, and Kioko already left because of private school. We have to make this year’s dance-a-thon count!”

  Chery cued the music on her phone. She snapped her fingers again.

  “Come on,” Cherry said, “we only have a few more weeks to perfect our dance. Five-six- seven-eight!”

  Instead of moving left, like they practiced, Chery fell to her knees. She twirled and jumped back up again. She was just in time to move to the right with everyone else.

  “What are you doing?” Jolan asked, mis-stepping. “You messed me up! Why’d you change the routine?”

  “You know me!” Chery replied. “My body grooves how it wants!”

  “You always do your own thing!” Jolan complained. “I’m tired of starting and stopping. I’m tired of practices. I’m tired of sweating. I quit!”

  Chery knew Jolan picked fights when something was bothering him. And she thought about the look he’d shared with Jordyn earlier. And the fact that they both talked about not dancing anymore.

  “Guys, what’s going on?” Chery asked. “You both seem off today.”

  Jordyn took a deep breath. “We’re moving to the military base at the beginning of August. Our dad thinks it’s better to make friends over there before school starts.”

  Chery’s face fell. “That’s in three weeks,” she said. “I thought I had one more dance left with my squad!”

  “You and Daniel can perform as a duo,” Jolan said.

  “Actually, this kind of works out for me too,” Day-Day said. “Between private ballroom dance lessons and dancing with our squad, I could use a break.”

  Chery felt her heart deflate.

  “But I’m taking a break from ballroom dancing in the fall,” Day-Day quickly added. “And I’m going to join the school’s hip-hop dance team in September. You should too!”

  Join the school team? That option was even worse.

  Chery had her own squad—it even had her name. Besides, she had never joined a dance team because her mom said getting to the practices was too difficult.

  But Chery knew that wasn’t the only reason. She had once overheard her mom talking about it on the phone. Dance classes were also too expensive.

  CHAPTER TWO

  NO-CUT SPORT

  Rap music blared from speakers in the auditorium. Chery felt it in her heart. But it wasn’t why her heart was thumping fast. Today was the first day of school, and she was auditioning for the Ess Robinson Middle School hip-hop dance team. About twenty other students crowded onto the stage.

  Chery stood in the second row behind Day-Day. He turned toward her, waving two big thumbs up.

  Day-Day wasn’t worried. He’d been taking dance lessons since he was five years old. But Chery didn’t know the first thing about tryouts.

  The dance coach, Miss Miller, joined them onstage. “I grew up dancing ballet,” she said. “But I love the freeness of hip-hop. Unlike in ballet, your moves don’t have to be exact. I want you to have the choices I wish I’d had as a young dancer. This is your dance team. I’m going to rely on you for ideas.”

  Miss Miller began the audition by teaching a dance combination. She put different moves together, counting each one until she reached eight. Chery and her squad kind of practiced that way. But instead of using numbers, they used words like bomp, zoop, gah, and ayy!

  “Let’s practice that combo two more times,” Miss Miller yelled over the music. “But after the last eight-count, I want to see some improvisation. Show off your moves!”

  Chery beamed. You didn’t have a dance squad without having moves. After repeating the second combo, she quickly performed some of her favorite moves. Then she lifted her leg for the Chery on Top move—but Ana crashed into her.

  “Sorry!” Chery said.

  “We’re supposed to be showcasing our talents,” Ana Alvarez Aces said, narrowing her eyes. Aces wasn’t Ana’s real last name, but that’s what everyone called her because she aced everything she did.

  Chery tried to explain her signature move, but Ana scoffed. “This isn’t amateur hour,” she said.

  Talking with Ana made Chery miss the next set of combinations. Miss Miller was already counting the next combo, and Chery quickly got lost. Instead of moving forward on the three-count, she moved sideways and landed on Ana’s foot.

  “Ow!” Ana said.

  Chery crisscrossed instead of gliding, tripping up some of the other dancers. She completed a full turn instead of a half-turn. And as everyone moved left, Chery moved right. She even crashed into some of them.

  Miss Miller must have been looking the other way. Because when the combination was over, she clapped.

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  “Well done!” she said, smiling. “You’re all amazing dancers.” Then she called Ana up to the front of the class.

  Ana put all the combinations together with no mistakes, just like Miss Miller showed them. For the first time in her life, Chery wished she’d had actual dance lessons. Then maybe she wouldn’t look and feel like such an amateur.

  The next day, the audition results were in. Two pieces of paper were taped to the doors of the auditorium.

  Chery waited for the hallway to clear before she checked. She and Day-Day walked together. Her heart pounded as she neared the door.

  “You got this,” Day-Day said.

  Chery peered up at the paper. She spotted Day-Day’s last name—Abelman—above Alvarez. Then she spotted her own: Etienne.

  “See! Told you!” Day-Day said.

  Suddenly, Ana appeared behind them.

  “Everyone made it,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s a no-cut sport.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  DANCE OFF

  For the next two months, Chery and the rest of the dance team practiced three days a week. They needed a solid routine for the regional competition being held before winter break.

  Then one afternoon, Miss Miller practically leaped onto the stage. “I have a really great opportunity for one of you,” she said. “I just found out a slot has opened for a solo dancer in a touring dance competition.”

  A soft murmur filled the room.

  “That means one of you lucky dancers can compete!” Miss Miller continued. “It’s in a few weeks, but the registration fees are paid, and a spot is reserved.”

  The students erupted in applause.

  Ana raised her hand. “You know how the boys football team is undefeated?” she said. “And the girls cross-country team is headed to the state tournament? I think the most seasoned dancer should represent the school.” Ana flipped her hair. “So we can keep the school’s winning streak going.”

  “I came in first place in the jazz finals over the summer,” Trina Bell said.

  “Pick me!” Kai Victor said. “I’m gonna be there with my brother anyway for his all-star dance team performance.” He jumped out of his seat with his arms at ninety-degree angles. “See my robot!”

  Miss Miller waved her hands in the air. “Every single one of you has talent. But this competition is about more than just winning. It’s about preparation, showmanship, and learning.”

  “So, then who gets to go?” Ana asked.

  “This is a team sport. I think it should be a team decision,” Miss Miller said.

  “How?” several voices asked.

  “A dance battle!” Day-Day shouted, looking at Chery. Shouts of glee erupted.

  Chery smiled. Dance battles were what her squad did for fun! But moments later, only seven students, including Chery and Ana, lined up for the challenge. Not even Day-Day stepped up.

  “You got this,” he whispered in Chery’s ear.

  “Let’s start with our warm-up routine,” Miss Miller said. The dancers started doing the familiar combo.

  But not Chery. She waited for the music to speak to her. When the right sound hit, Chery’s body popped. She raised her knee right when the music went high. And dropped it when it went low. Then she dropped to her knees and twirled up and repeated.

  Oohs and aahs erupted around her.

  “Everyone improvise,” Miss Miller said after a while.

  One by one, dancers ran out of moves, and bowed out. Soon, only Chery and Ana Aces were left. The students surrounded them.

  “Since it’s just the two of you,” Miss Miller said, “let’s put on new music.”

  As Chery waited for the right beat again, Ana moved first. She was confident and graceful. Her arms stretched long and wide. And when she bounced on her toes like a ballerina to the thump-thump, bump-bump- bump, she got big claps.

  For her turn, Chery pumped her chest to start the challenge. She pointed two fingers from her eyes to Ana’s, giving her a hard stare.

  Chery shuffled her feet, heel to toe. Then, stepping close to Ana’s face, Chery dropped her heel and slid backward.

  The kids hooted and waved.

  Ana came back with an arm wave to a body wave. Then she lifted one of her legs to her head and spun.

  “Get it!” Kai shouted.

  Chery rolled her head so her long braids whipped around and around. She lifted her leg, too, and ended with the Chery on Top move.

  The class exploded in a huge round of applause.

  “Cher-y! Cher-y! Cher-y!” some of the students shouted.

  Miss Miller quieted the class. “Great dancing from all who participated. But it looks like you’ve decided—Chery is our winner!”

  A week later, Chery and Day-Day were the first at dance practice when Fran Perkins hurried in and dropped her backpack. Several workbooks and a dance catalog spilled out. Chery helped Fran pick them up.

  “Thanks,” Fran said, placing the catalog on top of the pile. “By the way, do you know what you’re wearing to the solo competition?”

  More dancers filed into practice. “Something funky, I hope,” Kai said.

  “It should be shiny,” Nell Sunri said. “So you stand out.”

  “You have to go to DanceYes!” Fran said. “Ana’s aunt owns it. Tell her you know Ana, and she’ll hook you up.”

  “You have to look the part,” Kai said, breaking into a robot dance and voice. “You must keep the streak! Keep the streak!”

  As more dancers poured into practice, others joined him. “Keep the streak!” shouts grew.

  Get a new outfit? Keep the streak? Chery just wanted to dance. But was everyone saying that without the right outfit, she wouldn’t be good enough to keep the winning streak going?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  OLDIE BUT GOODIE

  The next Saturday morning, Chery and her mom, Beatriz, set out to buy a dance outfit. Chery was tired and fell asleep almost instantly in the rocking car.

  Before long, the lurching and jerking of her mom’s parking woke Chery.

  “This isn’t the mall,” Chery said, looking around.

  “If you weren’t asleep, you would have heard me say we’re going to a pop-up flea market,” Mom said, staring. “Did you stay up past your bedtime dancing again?”

  “Only until midnight! I had to get my moves right,” Chery said with a yawn.

  “Sleep is just as important as practice, young lady,” her mom replied.

  “So is getting the right outfit,” Chery said. “I need to go to DanceYes! Everyone said Ana’s aunt has the best dance clothing.”

  “We can get something here,” Mom said. “Remember your dance at the community center? When you and your squad wore those tracksuits? I found them in a place like this.”

  Chery remembered the suits. They were nice and stretchy. Perfect for doing splits.

  Before long, Chery and her mom had been in and out of so many booths that Chery’s feet were tired.

  “These aren’t even dance outfits,” Chery said, flipping through old clothes hanging on a rack. “They’re just regular clothes.”

  “Hip-hop fashion is about making what we wear our own,” Mom said. “It’s about whatever works for you and your squad.”

  “But I’m not with my squad anymore,” Chery replied. “I’m on a school team now. And the other sports teams are on a winning streak. I don’t want to be the one who jinxes it because I wore the wrong thing.”

  Beatriz hugged Chery. “You danced just as well in my oversized shirt, remember?”

  Chery wondered if Mom was saying this to avoid buying her an expensive dance outfit.

  Over a loudspeaker, a record scratched. It pounded with the base of a popular song. Across the way, in the center of the booths, two guys stared at each other. One had on a hoodie, the other wore skinny jeans. They walked toward each other like there was a problem. Their shoulders bumped. Just when it looked like trouble, the music switched, and they broke out into a dance.

  Regular-looking people tossed their bags aside and stepped in line with the two dancers. It was a flash mob! It grew from two to five to twelve dancers. Men, women, boys, and girls in regular street clothes moved together.

  Shoppers crowded around.

  The music changed to an old rap song that talked about hip-hopping non-stopping. The dancers fanned out and formed two lines. Then, two-by-two, dancers battled. The two who shoulder-checked each other were the last to go. One moved like a puppet being pulled by strings. The crowd clapped in rhythm during his performance.

 

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