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Rhythm and Blues
Rhythm and Blues Read online
About the Book
Four friends. One dance school. A whole lot of drama.
Riley is one of the best dancers at Silver Shoes. Does this mean she will be a great teacher too?
Riley has sprained her ankle and is forced to take a break from dancing! Sitting at home on the couch is at odds with Riley’s energetic nature, so she excitedly takes up Miss Caroline’s offer to become her personal assistant at Silver Shoes. But will Riley get carried away with her new-found authority and end up hurting her friends? And will her impatience to return to dancing and master the lyrical exam routine make her injury even worse?
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
So You Think You Know Modern and Lyrical Dance?
Glossary
About the Author
Collect them all!
Copyright Notice
For Andy
Chapter One
I don’t know how it happened.
One minute I was reaching for the ball, the goalpost in my sight, and the next I was down on the sticky floor, staring at everyone’s sneakers, the ball bouncing away from me.
I felt a weird sensation in my lower leg, like a balloon full of pins had burst inside my ankle. Then WHAM! my head smacked into the ground.
Never was I more thankful for my nana’s thick, tight braids (‘Nana’ is what I call my mum; it’s a term from Fiji, which is where I’m from). I’m sure they cushioned the blow.
Blackness flooded my vision for a second. I blinked it away and let my eyes swim back into focus. There was a crowd of girls peering down at me.
‘Let me through, let me through!’ My basket ball coach, Stacey, pushed the players aside and knelt down next to me.
‘Riley?’ she said. ‘Are you okay? Did you hit your head? What happened?’
I coughed and tried to sit up, but little stars danced across the insides of my eyelids. A queasy feeling was making a whirlwind in my guts. I wished everyone would back away because they were making me feel worse.
Talk about embarrassing.
‘I jumped to catch the ball,’ I managed to say. ‘And then I landed on my foot wrong. It kind of rolled?’
‘Does it hurt now?’ asked Stacey.
‘Not too badly,’ I said, although the sensation of a million pins stabbing into your ankle probably wasn’t that healthy.
I never get injured. I was mad at myself and my body for letting me down, and causing this stupid scene in the middle of the court.
‘Sit up when you’re ready,’ Stacey said. ‘We’ll get you off the court and bring you some ice to put on it.’ She looked at my head. ‘And for your noggin, too. You might have concussion.’
‘I don’t have anything,’ I said, and to prove that, I took a breath and sat up. My eyes went swirly and my stomach along with them, but after a second the feeling went away.
Stacey glared at me. ‘Riley, I said when you were ready.’
‘I am ready,’ I lied. ‘Get me off this court.’
Stacey reached under me and put her arm around my back to hoist me up. I almost died. One of my friends, Ellie, would have loved the attention. She would even have thrown in some fake faints! My other best friend, Ash, would have laughed it off and made a joke about being a klutz. But I knew my third best friend, Paige, would have felt exactly the same as I did. I wished she was here right now instead of all these strangers smothering me.
‘Riley, don’t go so fast,’ Stacey scolded me.
I was just about pulling her along the court towards our team seats. My head was swimming and I felt like my breakfast might come back up. But I just had to get off that court, and away from all the attention.
Thankfully, I heard the whistle blow behind me, which meant the game had started again. Opal, the girl subbing for me, held out her hand for a high five as she raced on.
I gave it a weak slap but really I was super annoyed at her for taking my place.
‘Sit on the ground, Riley, and put your foot up on this.’ Stacey carefully placed her backpack under my injured foot. The assistant coach, Jackson, handed her two ice packs, each wrapped in a towel. ‘Put this on your ankle, too. You might have a sprain. Whack this other one on where you hit your head. Jackson will sit with you to make sure you’re okay.’
‘Is this really necessary?’ I grumbled, trying to wave Jackson away. ‘I’m fine. I can barely even feel it.’ In truth, both my ankle and head felt like they were on fire, but I just needed to sit by myself for a few minutes and I’d be okay.
‘Probably ’cause you’ve got concussion,’ Jackson said.
‘Put your jacket on, too,’ Stacey said. ‘Keep warm. Don’t let yourself get cold.’
‘But I’m going back on in a minute!’ I protested.
Stacey stared at me. ‘Riley,’ she said, ‘you are not playing for the rest of the game.’
‘What!’ I went to stand up but didn’t quite get there.
‘Case in point,’ Stacey said. ‘The St John Ambulance man is going to check in on you in a second. You have to sit the rest of the game out. Otherwise you’ll do more damage than good.’
‘I can tell you some really cool jokes in the meantime,’ Jackson offered, but I was too disappointed to even pretend to laugh.
I hate sitting out on anything. All I could think was that my stupid ankle better be fine by tomorrow, because there was no way I was going to miss my dance classes at Silver Shoes.
Chapter Two
Silver Shoes is the dance school Ellie, Paige and I have been going to since we were tinies. Ash joined us at the start of the year – she came from our enemy school, Dance Art Academy. But I think we all agree she’s way happier here!
I had a lyrical class at Silver Shoes on Saturday morning – the day after my little accident at basketball. There was absolutely no way I could afford to miss it – especially with our exams coming up in a few weeks. Plus, I really love lyrical. Ballet is my main style, but I started doing lyrical a couple of years ago when Ellie told me I was too serious and needed to try a style where I could let my feelings out. It’s amazing how lyrical lets you express yourself in a way that ballet doesn’t (even if sometimes I struggle with really ‘letting go’!).
I didn’t tell my family that I’d hurt my ankle or slammed my head into the ground. My big brother Fergus picks me up and he never comes into the stadium; he always waits outside near his car so he can whistle at any girls who walk by. (He doesn’t seem to notice or care that they snort in laughter and roll their eyes).
The ambulance man had wrapped a bandage around my ankle, told me to keep icing it, and not do any vigorous exercise for a few days. So there was no getting around that. But I just told Nana and Tata (that’s ‘Dad’ in Fijian) that it was there because I’d landed a bit funny out of a jump. I said nothing at all about my ‘concussion’, even though I felt a bit woozy right up until I went to bed.
Are you wondering why I didn’t say anything? Well, it’s because I knew I’d be all right. I didn’t want any fuss and to be stopped from going to dance class just because I’d hurt my ankle a bit.
I didn’t need people telling me thing
s about my body when it seemed to me that I was the best judge of it and what it was capable of doing.
And missing a dance class so close to exams was not an option. We only did exams once a year, and this year my age group were doing our Silver Shoes Level Three exams in jazz, tap, musical theatre, ballet and lyrical – whatever classes we took. If we didn’t pass, we wouldn’t be able to move up to the next level – which would be embarrassing, but it’d also be a waste of all the time and effort we’d put in to get better.
So, with that on my mind, I cruised into lyrical class on Saturday morning like nothing had ever happened. I made sure I wore thick leg warmers over my ankles so our teacher, Miss Caroline, wouldn’t see the bandage on my right foot.
And I tried to ignore the little niggling pain in my ankle that insisted this wasn’t a good idea.
‘Hey Riley, how’d you go at basketball last night?’
Paige took her place next to me before warm-up, which is how we start every class, followed by travelling exercises, and then a short routine. At this time of year, we also spend half an hour at the end of class running through our upcoming exams.
‘We lost,’ I said, rolling my ankle around in circles to see where the pain was.
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said Paige. She gave me a sweet smile, which made her look even more doll-like than usual. Today she’d pulled two bits of hair out of her tight blonde bun, and they curled around her face. I gave one a playful tug.
‘Doesn’t matter,’ I said. ‘It’s the off-season. It’s only meant to be a bit of fun after the main season.’ (Which, I might add, my team won.)
Paige said something else but I was concentrating on my ankle, silently willing it to get through this class and not make a fool of me. It didn’t feel 100 per cent great, but if I took it easy I should be okay.
‘Riley?’ asked Paige.
‘Huh?’ I said.
She gave me a strange look. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah, of course,’ I said.
‘Well, what I was saying,’ she continued, ‘is that after Ellie finishes rehearsal today, she wants to know if we can meet Ash at Groove Train for ice-cream.’
Ellie is in a musical at the moment called Mary Poppins, and they rehearse over in Silver Shoes’ drama studio. It’s actually just after our exams that they’ll have their opening night.
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Yeah, sure. Sounds good.’
That’s if I didn’t put myself in the hospital first.
Chapter Three
Miss Caroline arrived to begin class. I guess I got lucky because our lyrical warm-ups aren’t very energetic or cardio-based, like our jazz ones.
Lyrical warm-ups focus on movements that have a natural, flowing feel to them. There are a lot of swings, isolations, contractions and long stretches to get your blood pumping. So I handled those pretty well, keeping as much weight as I could off my bad ankle and cheating in some of the stretches.
Although I did notice Paige looking at me a bit suspiciously when I didn’t go as far into my lunges as I usually do. She knows I give it my all in class every single time, no matter if it’s warm-up, travelling, or choreography work. I hate doing anything when I know, with less laziness, I could have done better. Ellie is a bit the same, I guess, which is why we get on, even though we’re both so different.
I gave Paige a bright smile like I had no idea why she would think anything was wrong, but even so I hurried over to the corner when it came time for travelling work. I could tell it was on the tip of her tongue to ask if there was something up with my ankle, and I didn’t want anyone, not even Paige, to know I was dancing when perhaps I shouldn’t be.
It could only last so long, though.
Travelling steps proved my downfall.
I figured out pretty quick that there was no pretending when it came to posé turns and saut de basque jumps. Even simple lyrical travelling steps like a waltz, tombé or pas de bourrée were a struggle. Putting any sort of weight on my ankle became a real problem, and eventually it began to hurt so much that when I was landing jumps and leaps, I started to flinch.
All the time I could feel Paige’s eyes on me, watching very, very carefully. I couldn’t help it, though. I kept pushing. I prided myself on my technical steps and setting an example for the other girls. I felt like a failure if I sat out or started doing the exercises with half my usual energy.
‘Riley,’ Paige said to me, as I lined up to do my turning jetés. ‘Is your foot okay? Because you shouldn’t be …’
I took off then, before she could finish, in case anyone else could hear. But because I was in such a hurry to get away, I mucked up my timing and messed up my preparation for the turn leap.
Then it happened.
I turned, leapt, landed … and it felt like someone had just smashed a branch into my ankle. I stumbled, tried to right myself, half fell and half lowered my body to the floor. Pain flared up my leg from my ankle.
I had a very, very bad feeling that I’d just made everything a hundred times worse.
Chapter Four
I bit my lip. My ankle hurt so badly.
Do not cry, Riley, do not cry.
‘Riley!’ Paige yelled, breaking away from the corner and rushing over to me. A few busybody girls followed her.
I had to get out of the room. I absolutely could not have a repeat of yesterday.
Paige flung herself down next to me. ‘I knew something was wrong!’ she exclaimed. ‘Is it your ankle?’
The other girls arrived at the scene and Miss Caroline pushed through them. ‘Give her some space,’ she said, gently. ‘Riley? What’s happened? Did you land funny?’
‘I … I …’ I hung my head and clutched at my ankle, trying to stop the flares of pain from running up my shin. ‘I hurt it a little at basketball and then I put too much weight on it and … and …’ I grimaced. ‘It really hurts!’
Miss Caroline looked at me and I felt like she knew everything that was going on in my head, including that I felt like the world’s biggest dummy.
‘Okay, Riley,’ she said, and gave a brisk clap. ‘Girls, that’s enough, return to the corner. Bethany, you run and get Jay – he’s on the reception desk today – and tell him to come and carry Riley out to my office. Paige, you want to go with them?’
Paige nodded very seriously, her long lashes blinking back her own tears.
Miss Caroline knelt down next to me while everyone else but Paige went back to the corner.
‘She probably did it on purpose,’ I heard one girl, Jasmine, mutter. ‘For the attention.’
Jasmine is a great dancer but she’s also pretty snobby. She and her sidekick, Tove, are always making life difficult for me and my friends. It was just like Jasmine to say something like that, and stupid too, because as if I wanted everyone eyeballing me while I was sprawled on the ground.
But my ankle hurt too much to even think about saying something snappy back to her.
‘Can you put weight on it?’ Miss Caroline asked.
I shook my head. I knew I couldn’t. It was ten times worse than at basketball. I was really afraid I’d done something serious.
‘You’ve probably got a sprain, judging by the way you landed,’ Miss Caroline said. ‘We’ll keep it elevated and ice it here, but I’ll get Jay to call your parents to come pick you up. I recommend you go to the doctor, honey, especially if you had a problem with it before class.’
I nodded miserably and wished the walls of Silver Shoes would tumble down around me. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Caroline,’ I whispered. ‘I just didn’t want to miss today’s lesson, not with exams so close.’
Miss Caroline gave a kind chuckle and squeezed my arm. ‘I understand,’ she said. ‘Your commitment is fantastic. But you should never put your health at risk. You only had to tell me and I would have let you modify everything – or you even could have watched along with me to keep the steps in your memory. It isn’t a weakness to give your body a rest every now and then.’
Paige put h
er arms around me. ‘Riley is very stubborn,’ she said, ‘but that’s why we love her. She always gives everything 100 per cent, Miss Caroline.’
Miss Caroline nodded at my ankle. ‘Well, let’s just hope you make a 100 per cent recovery from this.’
Jay dashed in then, making ambulance noises. He’s the hip hop teacher at Silver Shoes. Everyone has a crush on him because he’s young and funny and has terrific shaggy hair. Not me, though. Having three older brothers makes you allergic to boys!
‘Doctor Jay to the rescue,’ he joked, pretend-driving to me. ‘Heard you got yourself an injury, Riles? You okay, chicky? You need ol’ Jay to give you a leg up?’
I nodded.
‘Woo!’ Jay teased. ‘Not even a comeback from the young lady! This must be serious!’
That, at least, made me smile.
‘Come on,’ Jay said. ‘Hang onto my arm there, that’s it.’ I put all my weight on my left leg as he helped me upright. ‘Now I get to sweep you off your feet.’ He grinned and, to my total embarrassment, lifted me up so I was being carried off like some princess in a fairytale.
Poor Paige gave an embarrassed giggle for me as Jay tipped her a wink.
‘It’s how I get all the ladies,’ he said. ‘Right! Let’s go get some ice and make some calls. The health and wellbeing of Madam’s dainty foot depends on it!’
But I had a feeling that my injury was a lot more serious than his jokiness let on.
Chapter Five
‘You’re not supposed to dance for three weeks?’ Ellie flung herself back on my bed, kicking her legs up. Her pink sneaker pumps almost hit me in the face. She widened her green eyes dramatically and clutched at her heart. ‘I would die!’