Dance Academy: Second Chance

  Contents

  Cover

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Read a sample from … Tara Everything to Lose

  Copyright

  CHAPTER 1

  I’m back, in a place where I never thought I’d be again. Or want to be. The National Academy of Dance.

  All familiar faces, but I feel alone, all the same.

  Why is Ben in a tutu, twirling around? ‘Smile, my pretty,’ Grace says, taking a photo of him with her camera phone. ‘This is for Tara.’ Grace deliberately knocks me out of the way as she prances past.

  Tara won’t answer my calls. She must be feeling devastated about her back but in my heart I know her silence is about me and Christian. How can we not still be best friends? I can’t bear it.

  I have class in a minute, but I have to try her again. This time her mum answers. ‘Hang on, Kat, I’ll put her on.’

  Great. My heart thumps. What will I say?

  But then her mum says, ‘Sorry, sweetheart. She’s sleeping right now. Can I have her call you back?’

  ‘Okay, thanks, Mrs Webster. Bye.’

  I feel sick as I hang up and look around the studio. Back in first year. Oh boy, look at them. All at the barre, stretching like there’s no tomorrow. And they all ignore me. Guess I’d better join them.

  The class is familiar, too. Mixed Classical. Miss Raine watches me like a hawk but says nothing to me, thank goodness. I give it my all. Now that’s unfamiliar!

  After class, the first years walk past me like a small army, Lulu at the front.

  I plaster on a smile. ‘Hi, Lulu.’ Ignored again. Remi sneers at me.

  ‘Hello? Look, I’ve been the new kid twice too often this year, so, if there’s a problem, can we just sort it out now?’

  Lulu stops. They all stop. That’s good.

  ‘The problem?’ Lulu says. ‘Is with your kind.’

  Remi backs her up. ‘You’re a second year in a first-year leotard. And we don’t like the second years.’

  Huh? ‘You don’t think that’s a touch yearist?’ I ask.

  Lily speaks up quietly. ‘We wanted to compete in the Prix de Fonteyn.’

  Remi jumps in again. ‘We deserved to compete. But the second years suck up all the attention.’

  This is seriously weird.

  Lulu says, ‘Which is infuriating because with the exception of Abigail –’

  They all nod in agreement like sheep, and chorus, ‘We love Abigail.’

  ‘She’s so dedicated,’ someone pipes up.

  ‘– you’re more obsessed with relationships than ballet,’ Lulu continues, and sticks her nose in the air.

  I blink, stunned. ‘Huh. Right. Carry on then.’

  They sweep out of the room, and I shake my head. It’s so ridiculous, I want to laugh. But I can’t, quite.

  It’s lunchtime and I grab some food and plonk myself down at a table with Sammy and Christian. I can’t wait to tell them about it. ‘Do you know there’s a whole creepy dictatorship going on that we’re not even aware of?’

  Sammy gives us a funny look, and pushes back his chair. ‘I’ve got to get going.’

  I turn to Christian. ‘Why does he have that face on?’

  ‘I don’t have a face,’ Sammy says.

  ‘It’s his running to the toilet face,’ Christian says.

  ‘No, it’s not,’ Sammy says, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

  ‘Has he been eating green curry again?’ I ask.

  Christian laughs.

  ‘It’s not my curry face,’ Sammy snaps. He glares at us both. ‘It’s …’ He sighs. ‘For weeks you guys have been using me as an excuse so you can hang out guilt-free.’

  My mouth gapes open. ‘You don’t think we feel guilty?’ What is the matter with him? Christian and I are not together. Not really.

  ‘I’m not judging – actually I am judging. If you’re going to get together, fine, be together.’ He holds his hands up in surrender. ‘I just don’t want to be around to see it.’ And he walks off, just like that!

  Christian can’t look at me, and neither of us says a word. We can’t be together – neither of us want to hurt Tara – but I can’t help how I feel about him. Where to from here? I have no idea, but that horrible, lonely feeling is getting worse.

  When classes finish, I’m glad to see big brother Ethan, even if he is hanging out with Abigail yet again.

  Only he seems to have said something that flusters her for a change. Interesting.

  I wrap an arm around Ethan. ‘Family, you’re genetically obliged to talk to me.’

  Ethan makes a face. ‘Can I do it while writing job applications? Today the Company decided it’s time I “spread my wings”.’

  So he’s not having a good day either. ‘Y’ouch. Not to be selfish, but will you be seeking local work?’ Please let me at least have my big brother around!

  He shakes his head. ‘Impresión said they’d look at my new showreel.’

  ‘Spain.’ Even Abigail looks a bit stunned.

  ‘I know, bad timing.’ He nudges Abigail’s arm and makes like he wants her to follow him, smiles at me and heads off down the corridor. Suddenly, behind me that little first-year army choruses, ‘Hi, Abigail.’ They’re smiling at her like she’s the Queen. That gives me an idea.

  I turn to Abigail. ‘Hey, how do you get your hair like that? I mean, I spray and spray but – flyaways.’

  I examine her hair and touch the flowers, but Abigail flicks my hand away and stalks off.

  No problem – now I have a plan. If you can’t beat them, you have to join them.

  As I warm up the next day in the empty studio, I try Tara’s phone – yet again. I get her voicemail – yet again. ‘Hi, it’s Tara. Sorry I missed you. Leave a message.’

  I turn off my phone and swing my leg again. I’ve plaited my hair on top of my head with flowers threaded through, and my pointe shoes are shiny, brand new. Sheesh, if I didn’t know better, I’d think I looked just like Abigail!

  Lulu and Remi stop in the doorway, surprised I’m there first for a change. I put on my cheeriest voice. ‘Top of the morning to you.’

  Lulu stares. ‘Class doesn’t start for an hour.’

  ‘Endorphin overload,’ I chirp. ‘I’ve been in the Pilates studio since six.’

  Lulu and Remi exchange a suspicious look, as Lily comes in, too.

  I smile. ‘Did you guys know the American Ballet Theatre is in town?’

  ‘We’ve already booked,’ Remi says smugly. ‘Months ago.’

  ‘Drats.’ I lean down and grab a handful of tickets out of my bag, holding them up. ‘These are preview VIP.’

  Lily looks edgy and I turn to her. ‘Lily, I couldn’t interest you, could I?’ I offer her the tickets, and she can’t help it – her eyes light up and she takes one.

  ‘Orchestra pit seating, exclusive entry to the after party,’ I say.

  Lily stares in amazement at the ticket. Lulu and Remi can’t believe it either and Lulu glares at Lily.

  ‘Family connections,’ I say, and flash Lily a smile.

  Score one to me!

  On to Plan B. I soon have some of the other first years listening to my every word as we sit on the floor before class. Lulu and Remi are still glaring at me.

  ‘I know this is name dropping a little bit …’ I say, ‘but Misha once brought a donkey to my tenth birthday party. Which was hysterical because at
the time we were living in a penthouse.’

  Lily gasps. ‘Sorry, you mean Baryshnikov? The most famous dancer on the planet?’

  The girls stare at me, gobsmacked. I shrug, trying to be modest.

  Before I can answer, Miss Raine roars into the studio. ‘Why are you all just sitting there?’ she snaps. ‘Your influence, Katrina?’

  Oops. As we all scramble to the barre, I can see Lulu fuming. Score another one to me.

  Later, back at the boarding house, I continue my plan. The flowered dress is so not me, and I play with my hair in the hall mirror, wondering how far to go with this.

  Ethan bounds down the stairs, stops and gives me an odd look.

  ‘Oh, wow, did you body-snatch Abigail?’

  ‘Thinking about it,’ I say.

  ‘If you see her, can you tell her I’m looking for her?’ I salute him obediently as he walks off. I flop down in an armchair. Grace is there. Great.

  She smiles evilly at me. ‘So you’re going out? With all your friends?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ I flick through a magazine, wishing she’d disappear.

  ‘So why did I get invited to join this group?’ she asks, showing me her phone. ‘“Stop Kat Karamakov from poisoning first year”. Look, nineteen members already.’ She smiles, happy as a clam.

  I sit there, feeling sick for a few moments, then I know I have to find out what’s going on. I head to the Academy first, and find a whole bunch of the little gremlins in a studio, watching some kind of Powerpoint thing. I stop, horrified at what Remi is saying, not to mention the distorted photo of me on the screen.

  ‘You all know her dance failures,’ he says, ‘but this “fun-loving rebel” pitches herself as the best friend you’ll ever have.’

  Lulu chips in. ‘And that’s what she will use to suck you in.’

  The picture of me has a big red line crossing through it, like I’m a nuclear waste warning!

  I have to speak out. ‘This is insane.’ I try to appeal to Lily and the other students, but they’re in the middle. ‘You realise they’re trying to control you.’

  Remi clicks a button and the screen changes. ‘Let’s look at what happened to BFF casualty number one. Abigail Armstrong.’ Abigail’s perfect image appears on the screen. Remi continues, ‘Oral history reports that when Abigail decided to focus on ballet, Kat dumped her for being “boring”.’

  What? ‘It was more complicated than that. And we were eleven.’

  Lulu folds her arms and leans towards me, scorn on her face. ‘But you weren’t when you betrayed your most recent victim – Tara Webster.’

  The slideshow changes to Tara, me and Christian in happier times.

  Lulu’s in attack mode. ‘This so-called “friend” had a secret relationship with Tara’s boyfriend, causing a talented dancer to suffer a nervous breakdown which led to her being expelled from the Academy.’

  I can’t take my eyes off Tara’s picture. It’s a public reminder of everything I did wrong.

  ‘Do we really want to let this negative influence destabilise our year?’ Lulu says. ‘Lily?’

  Lily flinches and looks at me. I can’t say a word. All I want to do is cry. Instead I get out of there.

  All I can think of to do is call Tara – for the thousandth time, even though I know she won’t answer. But I try anyway. I nearly fall over when she answers.

  ‘What? What do you want to say to me, Kat?’

  I stop and sag down onto the steps.

  ‘Just … please don’t hang up.’ I suck in a breath. I can’t believe it’s really her, but I’ve got to give it my best try. ‘I think I need an estimate. Of how long you’re going to hate me. Because if there’s a goal, I can work towards that.’ I close my eyes and wait.

  Finally, her voice comes. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Tara, I am so unbelievably …’

  ‘I know,’ Tara says. And then she hangs up.

  ‘Sorry,’ I finish, tears in my eyes. Will she ever forgive me? Or is our friendship really over?

  I end up at the café, looking for comfort food. But even here, I feel guilty about everything, and buy half a grapefruit. I poke the spoon into it, not able to take a bite.

  Abigail walks over and raises her eyebrows at me and the poor grapefruit.

  ‘I only eat it unsweetened,’ she says. ‘If you want to be authentic.’

  I hunch over my spoon. ‘I don’t deserve sugar anyway. I’m a horrible, poisonous person.’

  Abigail seems almost fascinated. ‘Okay. Enough with the self-loathing.’ I look up. ‘I don’t need people,’ she says. ‘But you obviously do.’ She pats my shoulder. ‘Come on.’

  She drags me to the ballet studio – a bit surprising. Is she going to give me a dancing lesson? I shudder, but I stay quiet. The first years are in there, running some kind of extra class. Abigail pushes open the door and I follow her in.

  Lulu stops dancing, her face alight. ‘Abigail. We were just giving ourselves an extra class. Would you like a seat?’

  Abigail looks down her nose at them. ‘I’m not staying.’ She positions herself at the front of the studio and I trail behind her.

  Abigail folds her arms and grimaces. ‘It’s come to my attention that you’ve been portraying me as a victim.’ She fixes Lulu with a steely gaze. ‘As your leader, I find that extremely condescending. This girl may not look like a typical Academy student but she has earned her place here.’

  Oh, my god, surely this isn’t Abigail defending me? ‘This isn’t … We’re going.’ I grab her arm and use every bit of strength to pull her out of the studio. But she keeps talking to her peasants.

  ‘Cough in her direction and you will have me to deal with!’

  Out in the corridor, I make her face me.

  ‘So first you train me to get into the Academy and now you’ve morphed into my human shield.’ I screw my nose up in disbelief. ‘We’re not becoming friends, are we?’

  ‘I really hope not,’ she says coldly. Good old Abigail. Always reliably nasty.

  All I can do is laugh. And what’s even weirder is that Abigail takes pity on me back in the boarding house and we become roommates. Totally bizarre.

  True to form, Abigail has rules. Of course.

  ‘No talking in the morning. I get full approval over all music. If you borrow something of mine you will be evicted.’ And she even smiles. It’s freaky. I dump my bag and sit down on my new bed, reading Abigail’s rules again. Well, I’m here now. Surely things will improve?

  CHAPTER 2

  It’s kind of nice eating with my big brother for a change, and I want to find out what’s happening with him. He hands me his phone so I can read the email he’s just received. It’s from Spain.

  ‘Hola, Barcelona. Impresión totes drooled on your showreel.’ I’m rapt for him, then Christian walks past and kind of smiles at me. I smile back. Well, I have to, but then I focus on Ethan again.

  ‘They said to call in for a coffee next time I’m in town. It’s polite for no thanks.’ He sighs like it’s ‘whatever’.

  I gawk at him. Where has my obnoxious sibling gone?

  He picks up the dance magazine on the table and flips to the job ads. ‘Local indie musical, seeking a dance captain.’

  I snort. ‘Remember Pirates of Penzance? You walked out saying it was cheesy and insulting your dance sensibility.’

  ‘It was cheesy.’

  ‘You were five. You’ve always hated musicals.’

  ‘Well, maybe I’m the right person to re-invent them.’

  Before I can say another word, he starts dialling the number in the ad, giving me this brave kind of smile, but I’m not fooled. He’s just trying to make up for Spain.

  Later, on my way to class in my awful first-year leotard, I spot Tara with her dad. I rush up – I can’t help myself.

  ‘You’re here!’

  Tara doesn’t say hi, she just kind of stiffens. Uh-oh.

  Her dad grins at me. ‘Heya, Kat.’ Then he senses the awkward atmosphere
. ‘Right, I’ll leave you girls to catch up.’

  I try a smile but Tara stays silent, which makes me edgy. I fill the hole with chatter. ‘How’s your back?’

  ‘Still sore but the bone knit so it’s healing.’

  I am rapt for her. ‘That’s fantastic. So does this mean …’

  Then this voice rings down the corridor. ‘Tara!’

  Grace barrels in for a hug and totally ignores me – of course. ‘I have been wilting in this place without you,’ she says.

  Tara smiles! And still doesn’t answer me.

  Grace stops, looks between us. ‘Ew. Awkwardness,’ she says. ‘You don’t need that.’

  She hooks an arm through Tara’s and leads her away. I’m beginning to wonder if we’ll ever be friends again. All I can do is head off to my class with the first years and try to focus so Miss Raine doesn’t yell at me.

  Back at the boarding house, I can’t stand feeling sorry for myself. This is not me! Baking always helps me feel better, even if I do get carried away with it. I pull out eggs and flour and pans and get stuck in.

  A couple of hours later, Ethan wanders in, just as I’m icing the last of several hundred cupcakes.

  ‘Tara-related baking?’ he asks, trying to be sympathetic but I’m not going to be a sook.

  ‘So, run me through a synopsis of your news,’ I demand.

  ‘Well, you are looking at a newly employed choreographer.’

  Aha! ‘I knew those Spaniards would come to their senses.’

  He doesn’t look nearly as happy as he should. ‘No, the musical. I think it’s going to be interesting.’

  ‘Oohh, look at you being all non-judgey.’ I give him a big hug and put flour all over his shirt. ‘We are celebrating this biographical moment.’

  ‘We really don’t need to make it a big deal.’

  ‘At the very least, it’ll stop me baking.’ I look at the rows of cupcakes.

  He gives in. ‘Fair enough.’ He doesn’t have much of a choice!

  I come up with a majorly amazing plan for the celebration and, when everything is ready, I call him and tell him to come down to the wharf. He’s staring around so I have to leap out and yell, ‘Ahoy there, matey!’