Virtually in Love Read Free Page B

across the street from Aesop’s, so about five minutes later we were walking into the big auditorium where we always had our S&D meetings. There’s a stage at one end with a piano on it. The rest of the room is one enormous open space. A whole bunch of folding chairs were stacked at one end; they use them for plays and other stuff, but we usually leave the place mostly clear so the kids can run around.
    Kaz’s cousin Maya was over in front of the stage, her perky, glossy black ponytail bouncing as she laughed at something one of band’s trombonists was telling her. Most of the other cheerleaders and probably half the band were milling around nearby.
    â€œOh good.” Vanessa’s eyes scanned the place as we entered. “The kids aren’t here yet, so we didn’t miss anything.”
    I smiled at her. “Don’t worry,” I said. “They wouldn’t dare start without you.”
    Kaz laughed, and Vanessa rolled her eyes at both of us. But it’s true. She was the whole reason our school got involved with Song & Dance. She’d found the group’s website last year and almost single-handedly convinced everyone in the pep club that we should hook up with them, even though the city where they’re located is almost an hour’s drive away.
    That was Vanessa for you, though. She seems quiet and kind of passive sometimes, but she’s tougher than any of us when it comes to stuff she cares about. And she definitely cares about kids. She adores them all, from the brattiest eight-year-old to the drooliest, smelliest baby. She’s been babysitting since she was eleven, and she’s planning to major in child psychology in college.
    Maya spotted us and hurried over. “The bus driver just called and they’re almost here,” she said, smoothing down her already perfectly smooth hair. “She suggested we start with dance today since it rained yesterday and the kids are pretty hyper from being cooped up inside.”
    We all nodded obediently, which is the best thing to do when Maya is in charge.
    â€œCan’t wait to show them some moves,” Kaz said, hopping around in what was probably supposed to be a tap dance of some sort.
    The trombonist, who had followed Maya over, snorted loudly. “Maybe we should leave the dancing to the cheerleaders, bro,” he said, giving Kaz a slap on the back.
    I grinned as the others—including Kaz—laughed. Kaz is famous for his goofy dance moves. When he was teaching everyone to do the Hustle at the homecoming dance last year, he accidentally stepped on the vice principal’s foot and gave one of Maya’s cheerleader friends an elbow to the jaw. Someone even shot a video, which went semiviral on the school website. One of the comments compared Kaz to a marionette on a sugar rush. Which had led to Vanessa and me calling him Pinocchio for a week or two.
    A few minutes later a stout, smiling woman with wild gray hair and a whistle around her neck appeared in the doorway.
    â€œThere’s Ms. Sokolofsky,” Vanessa said.
    The woman spotted us and waved. Then she turned and let out a shrill tweet on her whistle.
    â€œIn here, kiddoes!” she sang out.
    The kids came pouring in. Song & Dance helps kids from all over the region who don’t have access to good music education, whether because they’re living in a women-and-children’s shelter in the city or attending a poor rural school with no full-time music teacher—or whatever other reason. Sometimes kids come only once or twice until their families are back on their feet, while others have been coming for as long as we’ve been having our meetings.
    â€œHi, guys!” Vanessa called, lighting up like a candle as she beamed at all of them.
    As she hurried off to help a pair of tiny girls who were in danger of getting trampled by some of the bigger, more excitable boys, I spotted one of my favorite regulars, an undersize