"Come see Kansas Kate kick Kentucky Kitty all the way to Alaska!" the poster read.

Kayla Duke looked away. She was working on her high kicks. Miss Pike coached Kayla's dance team. Miss Pike wanted Kayla's legs to be strong. She wanted those feet to be high. "Keep it up!" Miss Pike called.

Miss Pike had trained Kansas Kate. In those days, the dancer had been plain Kate. Kayla was just plain Kayla. She hoped to make it big in dance someday. Then she would call herself "Dakota Duke." She could not be Kansas Kayla or Kentucky Kayla. No one likes a copycat.

"The key to becoming great is to believe you are great. Work like you are great!" Miss Pike cheered.

The phone rang. Miss Pike answered it. Kayla stopped for a drink of water. Her legs needed a break!

"I know why you called," Kayla heard Miss Pike say. "You can't fool me. You know that your girl is going to lose the high kick contest."

To whom was Miss Pike speaking? Kayla decided to sneak over and listen.

"Poke fun all you want. Kansas Kate will kick the stuffing out of your Kitty."

Why would Kate kick a kitten? Kayla shook her head.

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