Dance Till you Drop Read online

  About the Book

  Four friends. One dance school. A whole lot of drama.

  Paige’s mum wants her to be the best dancer ever. But what does Paige want?

  Paige has grown up dancing and takes almost every class at Silver Shoes. She loves her friends there but often feels pushed into dancing by her mum, who was once a dancer herself. Now, with a ballroom competition coming up and her waltz looking less than graceful, Paige’s confidence starts to crack. Dancing no longer seems like fun. Paige wants to make everyone happy, but before she knows it her best friend stops talking to her, then Benji, her ballroom partner, walks out! Will Paige find the courage to speak up before she loses her friends and her love of dance forever?

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Character Profile: Paige Montreal

  How to do a Perfect Closed Hold

  How to do a Perfect Promenade Hold

  Glossary

  About the Author

  Collect them all

  Copyright Notice

  Loved the book?

  To my dancing idols and inspirations

  Chapter One

  ‘You can’t what?’ Ellie crossed her arms and narrowed her big green eyes at me.

  Uh-oh. I knew I was in trouble.

  I looked at Ellie’s fluoro-pink jazz boots. Then at Ashley’s bag with the ripped handle. Then at the picture of a young Miss Caroline dancing on a cruise ship above the bluest water I’d ever seen.

  But I couldn’t look at Ellie.

  ‘I can’t come to your birthday party,’ I whispered. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Why not?’ said Ellie.

  I picked at my leotard. Then I gave a little cough. Wow. Sometimes Ellie can be scary when she’s excited or passionate about something and can’t stop talking. But when she’s silent? That’s terrifying.

  ‘Well, come on, Paige,’ said Ellie. ‘You’re supposed to be my best friend, and now you can’t come to my eleventh birthday party? There better be a good reason.’

  ‘Mum told me yesterday I have a ballroom competition,’ I said. ‘I’m really sorry, Ellie. You know how much I wanted to come.’

  Eleanor is my best friend, so it wasn’t a lie. We’ve been friends since we first began as tinies at our dance school, Silver Shoes.

  Ellie is loud and energetic and never afraid. And that’s why I love her – because she makes me feel less quiet and shy.

  But you don’t want to get in her bad books. And I think I just did.

  ‘You already missed my singing showcase because you were doing some ballet workshop, and now you’re going to miss my party because you’ve got a competition?’

  ‘I can’t help it,’ I said.

  ‘Paige,’ huffed Ellie, shoving her foot into her jazz boot. ‘I love dancing too, everyone knows that, but I don’t let it get in the way of doing stuff with my friends.’

  ‘I want to come!’ I said. ‘And I wanted to be at your singing showcase as well! But I’ll get into trouble if I miss these ballroom things.’

  ‘You can’t miss this one ballroom competition?’ asked Ellie. ‘Even though you do, like, a thousand?’

  ‘No,’ I said.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘It’s really good practice. And exposure,’ I explained, before realising I was just repeating what Mum always said.

  I thought about my ballroom partner, Benji, and my cheeks grew warm.

  ‘Also I can’t let Benji down.’

  ‘What about letting me down?’ pouted Ellie, pulling on her other jazz boot.

  I couldn’t think of anything to say.

  ‘Whatever,’ she said, making a big deal of tying her final lace. She gave me a mean look as she breezed by me on her way out the door. ‘You don’t even like ballroom.’

  That wasn’t true! Was it?

  I sure didn’t like it when it caused fights with my best friend.

  But Benji and I had been working so hard on our waltz for the ballroom competition. My mum was state waltz champion before I was born. I know it meant a lot to her that Benji and I take out our age group at the competition. She made us practise in every spare moment – sometimes I felt I was even waltzing in my sleep!

  I sighed and put Ellie’s street clothes in a neat pile next to mine. Then I headed to the studio, ready for our weekly technique class. My arms were really sore from holding a ballroom stance for three hours. I hoped we didn’t spend too much time on cartwheels and walkovers today.

  ‘Paige!’

  I looked into the open doorway and saw Mum waving at me from a sea of dresses. She’s in charge of costumes at Silver Shoes.

  ‘Your hair is a mess!’ Mum scolded. ‘Come here.’

  ‘I’m late for class,’ I began to say, but she’d already taken my hair – which is long, blonde and silky and ALWAYS falls out even if it’s tied up – and twisted it into a bun so tight I felt like I had sunburn.

  ‘Work on your walkovers today, honey,’ Mum said, giving me a kiss. ‘Your knees are always crooked.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said, and escaped before she could find an imaginary thread hanging loose on my leotard.

  Once I was in the studio I went to take my usual place next to Ellie.

  But she wasn’t there. She was over in the far corner, laughing with our friend, Ash.

  I guessed she was still mad, then.

  Luckily our other friend, Riley, came rushing in, trying to fix her curly hair into a braid.

  ‘Hey Paige,’ she said, stopping next to me. ‘Whoops. Late again.’ She gave me a big smile that said she didn’t really care if she was late or not.

  I decided to copy her and spend the class not caring.

  But I did care.

  I cared that my knees stayed crooked on the walkovers. I cared that I got so dizzy in my pirouettes I almost crashed into the mirror.

  And I cared that throughout the whole class, Ellie didn’t look at me once.

  Chapter Two

  The next day, Friday, I had ballroom practice after school.

  I walked into the back studio to find Benji standing stiffly in front of the mirror, his chin up and arms out.

  Benji doesn’t take any other classes at Silver Shoes. He’s in a hip hop group with Ash, but that’s outside of the studio.

  I hung back in the doorway, embarrassed – for myself or for him, I didn’t know.

  When he caught me looking though, his body collapsed like jelly that’s just been punched.

  ‘Hey,’ he said.

  ‘Hi,’ I said, coming into the studio. ‘What were you doing?’

  ‘Working on my posture,’ Benji said. ‘Mum said it’s no good. Said there’s too much hip hop slouch.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said.

  ‘What about you?’ he asked. ‘Do you think when I dance ballroom I’m too hip hoppy?’

  ‘Oh,’ I squeaked. ‘No. I don’t think so.’

  I really wasn’t sure, because when I danced with Benji my head got all messed up and I couldn’t really think about anything except trying not to step on his feet.

  He shrugged. ‘I don’t care. Not gonna be a ballroom dan
cer, anyway.’

  ‘Well, don’t tell your mum that,’ I said, sitting down on the floor to stretch out my feet. ‘Don’t tell mine, either. In her mind, we’re together for life.’ I flushed bright red. ‘As dance partners, I mean!’

  Benji collapsed on the floor and lounged about next to me. I moved my legs away so that my feet weren’t touching him. He kept staring at himself in the mirror.

  ‘We’ve got that ballroom comp coming up,’ I said, because the silence was making my fingers and toes itch.

  Benji nodded. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I’m missing Ellie’s birthday because of it.’

  Benji sat straighter and squared his shoulders, but he didn’t look away from his reflection. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘She’s pretty mad.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I hope it doesn’t turn into a big fight,’ I said, pulling up my tights.

  Gosh! Why was it so hard to talk to boys!

  Benji was pulling ridiculous stage faces in the mirror now. ‘Yeah?’ he said, again. ‘Don’t do the ballroom comp then. I don’t mind. We do a hundred others.’

  ‘I can’t just pull out,’ I said.

  ‘Why?’ asked Benji, swishing his hair back in an over-the-top way.

  ‘Because I have to do the comp,’ I said.

  ‘Have to or want to?’ asked Benji.

  I looked down at my toes. ‘Want to,’ I said.

  But the ticklish feeling in my tummy said I wasn’t so sure. If I didn’t feel excited about it, why was I doing it?

  ‘Are you sure?’ said Benji, flicking his eyes at me in the mirror.

  Gosh! Maybe Benji hated dancing with me because I was so terrible and he wanted to pull out!

  But I didn’t get to ask him because Mum and our ballroom teacher, Fleur, came in.

  ‘What’s this?’ Mum laughed. ‘On the floor will never do. We better get you up and dancing, hey?’

  Benji gave her a weird smile that his eyes didn’t agree with.

  ‘How are you, Benji?’ asked Mum. She kissed him on the top of his head, and the way he tried to duck out of it made me smile. ‘You ready to dance the waltz with my Paigey?’

  ‘I guess,’ he said.

  ‘I guess!’ Mum laughed again. ‘Well, I hope you guessed right, because we’re going to make you two state champions!’

  ‘Great,’ I heard Benji mumble under his breath.

  Fleur is a nice teacher, but Mum usually ends up taking over. She calls out corrections from the chair at the side of the studio, or jumps up to partner Fleur to show us how it’s done.

  Most of the time I wish Mum would go away to fix up the costumes or something, because I don’t feel like I dance my best when she’s around.

  I think she forgets that Benji and I are only just learning ballroom. We haven’t been doing it for twenty years, like she did. And she keeps slamming us with new styles to learn when we really should be concentrating on just a few.

  Take this example. Fleur was getting Benji and me to do some slow circles around the studio, in a basic one, two, three; one, two, three box step. It was just a warm-up! But Mum called out, ‘Paigey, you’ve got to stand closer to Benji! He’s not contagious, sweetheart, you can’t be ten metres away from him – it ruins the line of your arms.’

  I know it’s meant to be encouraging, but I get nervous when she calls out stuff like that! And when I did move closer to Benji I got all stiff because I felt like it still wasn’t good enough.

  Plus I didn’t like being too near to Benji. I wasn’t sure which part of his face I was meant to look at. We were so close I could see a chip on his front left tooth. Imagine what he could see on mine! I hope I didn’t have a booger!

  Benji acts cool, but he’s really good at ballroom. His thing is hip hop, but his mum and mine know each other from the old dancing days, so they thought it would be a great idea to get us together as ballroom partners.

  Benji’s a natural. Sometimes he looks like he enjoys himself, even with me stumbling and turning the wrong way and treading on his toes.

  I couldn’t understand why I was so bad. I bet Riley or Ellie wouldn’t have the same problem. Mum would never yell things out at them!

  Great. So I’d miss Ellie’s birthday to do a ballroom competition that I wasn’t even good at. It just got worse and worse.

  Chapter Three

  ‘I’m so glad we made it in time! How are you going, sweetie? Closing soon?’ Mum asked the girl behind the counter.

  We were at the Danceworks store, and the girl (it was Ash’s big sister, Bridget) looked up from where she was tagging singlets.

  ‘Half an hour,’ Bridget said. ‘Hey Paige.’

  ‘Hello,’ I said.

  ‘You guys know what you’re after?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Mum. ‘Hairnets. Paige’s hair just won’t stay still! And a nice, plain leotard with a sweetheart neckline.’ Mum turned to me. ‘Paigey, that’s what I’m going to create your waltz costume around. Do we need anything else, bub? You excited?’

  ‘I guess so,’ I said, but Mum was already flicking through the racks.

  I already had about five unused leotards at home, so I didn’t see why I couldn’t use one of them.

  ‘We’re going for a music-box theme, Paigey,’ said Mum, holding up a long-sleeved number and then putting it back. ‘Benji’s mum and I were talking. He’ll be the soldier and you’ll be the music-box ballerina. We reckon a lovely, soft yellow for the base colour? Some emerald greens in the skirt – that’ll make your eyes pop. What do you think, honey?’

  ‘Yellow’s nice,’ I said, yawning.

  There were two fluoro-pink glittery dance tanks hanging next to me that I knew Ellie would love.

  Even though she hadn’t talked to me since technique class on Thursday.

  ‘Then we’ll do some gold detailing,’ babbled Mum, ‘and use creamy white chiffon for the layers in your skirt, set against the green. I was at the craft store today and I saw some stunning silk butterflies for your hair. The wings were trimmed with these tiny crystals, so when you moved them it looked like they were flying and leaving a sparkly trail. You’ll be such a vision, babe!’

  Mum looked at me. I realised I’d been staring at the tanks, thinking about Ellie.

  ‘What’s wrong, honey?’ said Mum.

  ‘I’m just really tired,’ I said.

  ‘Of course you are, darling,’ said Mum, kneeling down to me with a leotard clutched in her fist. ‘You’ve been dancing all week, and you’ve had those extra ballroom practices, too. I’m so proud of your dedication.’

  ‘I haven’t been doing that well in ballet,’ I confessed. ‘I think Ms McGlone is mad at me.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ said Mum. ‘You should be mad at her for not making you the Ice Queen in the eisteddfod. You would have been better than Jasmine. Lovely girl, but …’

  Jasmine is ten times better than me at ballet (and she knows it). She deserved the lead. And it doesn’t bother me if I don’t get the starring roles. It’s a lot of pressure. I get so nervous as it is!

  But Mum thinks I’m being under-used. Also, she doesn’t like Mrs de Lacy, Jasmine’s mum. She said Mrs de Lacy is a pushy know-it-all, and that she thinks Silver Shoes was created just to promote the talents of Jasmine. ‘A true stage mum, Paigey,’ she told me once. ‘But I don’t want to talk about it. Negative thoughts give you wrinkles.’

  ‘Anyway,’ said Mum, looking at the leotard she was holding, ‘the colour of this one’s nice, but I don’t like the cut. Might have to try Transitions Dancewear.’

  ‘Do I have to do the ballroom competition?’ I blurted out.

  Mum paused. There was silence in the shop. Bridget disappeared out the back.

  ‘Why did you say that?’ asked Mum. ‘Of course you have to do the competition! You’ve been so excited. And you can’t let down Benji.’

  ‘He doesn’t care,’ I said.

  ‘Yes he does, Paige. Don’t be silly.’ She started looking through the costumes aga
in very loudly. A coathanger fell on the ground.

  ‘It’s just that Ellie’s birthday party is on the same day,’ I said.

  ‘Ellie will have plenty of other birthday parties,’ said Mum.

  ‘But I really want to go,’ I said, unable to stop myself talking. ‘I’m already dancing every single day, but I still don’t think I’m good enough for the comp. Not yet, anyway.’

  ‘Yes you are,’ Mum said. ‘You’re my daughter, aren’t you?’

  ‘But Ellie’s birthday …’ I said.

  ‘That’s enough, Paige,’ said Mum, firmly. ‘You’re just tired. We’ll get you a hairnet and then we’ll go home and I’ll make you a nice quinoa salad for tea.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘You don’t have time to think about birthday parties anyway,’ Mum continued. ‘You need to focus. The Royal Academy of Ballet is holding a masterclass weekend in June and it’s very respected. I’ve already signed you up for an audition next Sunday.’

  As if this week wasn’t bad and busy enough, now I had to worry about a masterclass?

  Worst of all, Mum had just dropped one of my most hated words:

  Audition.

  Chapter Four

  ‘Hello, my name’s Paige Montreal, I’m ten years old, and my favourite style of dance is lyrical.’

  I thought about it a bit more.

  ‘Actually, it’s ballet.’

  If I was going to audition for a ballet masterclass, I’d better say my favourite style was ballet!

  I looked at myself in the mirror of the drama studio at Silver Shoes – a small blonde scaredy-cat. And I was only practising for the audition. It wasn’t even the real thing.