The Standout by Laurel Osterkamp Page A

challenge and we officially welcome you to the show.” She gestures toward Jim. “Jim, would you like to tell them why this will be such a special season?”
    “Thank you, Hilaire. I would love to." When he speaks I’m reminded of my middle school science teacher, Mr. Monroe, who was known for his ability to say Uranus , patiently and repeatedly, without ever cracking a smile. “This season, The Standout is doing something special. Every challenge will be centered on a famous ballet, like Giselle, Swan Lake , or The Firebird , just to name a few.”
    “Hold on!” Hilaire shouts to the cameramen and they all poke their heads out from behind their heavy equipment. “I don’t think the designers look amazed enough.” Now her focus plows into us. “Designers! This is incredible news. Respond to it! Ah! D’accord! Okay!”
    We’re all packed into the first two rows of the audience, and Gabe the cameraman comes and shoves his lens within spitting distance of my mouth. But I don’t spit; I smile like I’ve just been told that we’re skipping winter this year.
    “All of the garments you construct must be practical for a dancer to move in,” Jim says. “Your model should be able to stretch, or even fall, and the garment will withstand it.” He looks over at me and I laugh as if we’re sharing an inside joke.
    But on the inside, I’m breathing fire.
    “Your first challenge will have a Sleeping Beauty theme,” Jim continues. “We don’t mean the Disney version, but the classical ballet. You all have your Samsung tablets, and we’re giving you thirty minutes to research and sketch. Then we will go fabric shopping at Metaphor. Any questions?”
    “Jim?” Casey raises her hand. “So we’re supposed to pick a character from Sleeping Beauty and design a gown they can dance in? I’m not sure I understand.”
    Jim weaves his fingers together, unflinching in his absolute composure, just like Droopy Dog. “You are letting yourself be inspired by the ballet.”
    Casey cocks her head in question. “I don’t understand.”
    “Well, we can’t spell it out for you Casey.” Hilaire’s tone is not as patient as Jim’s. “You must think abstractly, comprendre?”
    “Umm, I guess?” Casey’s voice lilts and I’m guessing she doesn’t understand.
    But I do. And I can’t wait to get to work.

Chapter 20
    It’s late in the evening and I feel like the exclamation point at the end of a panicked sentence. It’s just a dress, I tell myself. It’s not your future; it’s just a dress.
    “Robin, how are you?” Jim approaches my work station. His salt-n-pepper hair is slicked back and today’s suit is navy pinstripes with wide lapels and a dark purple tie. I wish I’d designed his outfit instead of this garment, which is half nightgown, half cocktail dress.
    “I’m okay,” I answer.
    “What have we got going on here?” Jim points to the dress dummy that is wearing my Sleeping Beauty look.
    “Well,” I say, projecting false confidence, “I was thinking about how Aurora is woken up by the prince’s kiss, and that’s what I’m going for with this look: an awakening.”
    “Uh huh.” Jim fingers the midnight blue satin that’s the base of the strapless bodice, but over it is a long-sleeved teal chiffon blouse, with wing-like draping. There’s also teal chiffon as the lower layer of the skirt. “I like the teal,” he says, “it’s very subtle. And the fit is lovely: the combination of tight and loose is a great aesthetic.” He looks up at me and tilts his chin. “Robin, I totally think this works.”
    “Oh my God, thank you!” I’m so relieved that I almost start to cry. “I’ve been so scared, after the last challenge. . .”
    Jim waves one hand dismissively. “Oh, please. That whole thing was ridiculous. Your dress was lovely. It’s not your fault your model tripped and fell. And what muslin dress is going to survive that?”
    I feel like I’m swallowing air. “Really?”
    Jim leans