Dancer at Silver Spires Read Free Page A

isn’t it? Unless you’re a professional ballet dancer, I guess.”
    My heart began to thud. They were talking about a ballet performance. Miss Morgan? Yes, I’d heard of her. She was the Silver Spires dance mistress.
    What? A ballet performance? Here? At school? said the other me , forgetting, as usual, that the new me didn’t want to know these things.
    And a few seconds later Olivia gave me the answer. She sounded half nervous, half sulky. “It’s going to be so scary on that stage when just about everyone in this place thinks ballet is the least cool thing ever. They just don’t get it, do they? I mean, they’ve got no clue how hard it is.”
    I didn’t stay to hear any more. I just got up, switched off the TV and left the room. I wished I’d never found out about this ballet performance. The very thought of it made waves of tension zap through me. I knew it had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t as if I’d be dancing myself. But it was still ballet, and that wasn’t supposed to be a part of my new life here at Silver Spires. I’d done everything I could to avoid it, yet it had crept up on me again.
    I raced up to the dorm and sat on my bed, trying to calm down, telling myself that I didn’t have to watch the performance if I didn’t want to. Surely it wouldn’t be compulsory to attend. In fact, I didn’t even know if Year Sevens would be invited. No, I’d just keep right away from it and everything would be fine.
    But the other me wouldn’t leave the subject alone.
    It sounds like Abi’s really good. I’d like to see her dance .
    Then the new me slammed the door shut. Well, you’re not going to. It would only upset you. Ballet’s in your past.

Chapter Two

    â€œOkay, girls, let’s do some stretches. Sitting on your mats in your proper gym position.” Mrs. Truman, our PE teacher, paused and checked we all had legs stretched, toes pointed, backs straight and heads up. “Remember, gymnastics is an individual sport, so you don’t need to look around at each other.”
    We were all still puffing a bit from the warm-up. We’d done lots of side skipping and different sorts of jogging with our heels up and then our knees up, and backwards jogging too, and all the activities made me feel alive. Gym is the complete opposite to ballet. In gym, you don’t turn out your legs and your feet like you do in ballet. You point your feet straight out in front. You don’t curve your arms softly, you snap them tight in a wide V. You don’t grow up out of your ribcage, feeling the imaginary piece of string making you tall; you arch your back hard. If I’d gone to The Royal Ballet School I wouldn’t be allowed to do gym, because it would spoil my ballet technique and risk injury. At Silver Spires, I can do it as much as I want. So I make the most of it and, as well as the ordinary lessons, I go to gym club.
    After the stretches, we put the mats together and worked in groups on a routine which had to include moves from four to three to two points of balance. I was with all my friends and we had a brilliant time moving in and out of various shapes. I concentrated hard on making sure I didn’t do anything that might look too graceful or ballet-like, and didn’t mind too much when Bryony suddenly said, “Your legs are very strong, aren’t they?”
    â€œI like gym,” I said, carefully.
    Bryony was looking at me as though she was really impressed with my strength. “You’re the only one of us six who can support my weight in the aeroplane balance,” she said now. “And yet you’ve got such a small, slim build. Have you done lots of gym before, Izzy?”
    I felt myself crumble a bit inside. “No, not loads…well, quite a lot…” I knew I was sounding unsure of myself and it was a relief when Emily suddenly spoke excitedly. “Let’s compare