‘What were you about to say?’
But Jay shook his head again, stronger now. He turned, slid open a glass door and disappeared outside.
But I had to know. This war (or whatever it was), how exactly had it started? And why? Now it was my turn to follow.
Outside, the air was still and cold. The spotlights on the deck were strong in places and dim near the edge. Jay was heading down the steps towards the path running up the side of the house.
‘Jay?’
He didn’t stop.
I took a running leap off the end of the deck and landed just in front of him.
‘The letter,’ I said. ‘Tell me . . . What was that all about?’
Jay sighed. What was that look on his face? I couldn’t read it at all.
‘Please tell me.’ I repeated
‘The letter was true, Saph.’ Jay put his hands in his pocket and looked down at his feet.
‘What!?’ I pulled my yeah right face and put my hands on my hips. ‘Like Damien Rowsthorn really wrote me a Valentine’s Day letter.’
‘No.’ A sigh from Jay, his shoulders drooped. ‘I wrote you a Valentine’s Day letter. Then I got cold feet and signed another name. But everything else was true.’
He shrugged and stepped past me heading up the path to the front of the house.
I watched him go, unable to move. Not much had changed, but suddenly my entire universe was different.
As the puzzle took shape in my head, I turned and walked slowly inside.
To Saph, I have watched you dancing for a year.
My brain was slow to take it all in – fitting the final pieces into place.
The things you do with your legs! And your body. You dance like a goddess.
I stood near the munchie table, not sure where to go. I wanted to find Summer and go home.
I can’t get you out of my mind.
How could I be so daft? An invitation to play basketball, an encouraging whistle, a letter from a secret admirer. Things I had seen as enemy tactics were simple offers of friendship – sweet and kind.
The lights were dimmer in here now. Kids were crowded together on a couch and around it on the floor. The dance room was louder than ever – full of bodies moving to the beat. Summer was sure to be in the middle of it all.
Finally my brain pulled back one last step. I could see the whole picture, not just Jay’s part in it. Finally I could see myself. My own tricks: humiliation by rose at assembly, humiliation by announcement at the Magic game, tricking the coach into pulling Jay off the court. How had I taken it so far?
The final piece was in place, the puzzle complete. And I didn’t like what I saw.
Oh crap . . . I’d been such a bitch!
CHAPTER 12
‘What’s wrong?’ Summer found me at the munchie table staring at the dip tray and biting my bottom lip.
I looked up and started laughing at her wild party hair, loosening the lump of guilt in my throat.
‘Summer, I’m an awful hideous person who deserves everything I get!’ Half an hour ago, I’d ripped into Jay because he only cared about basketball. Far out! I’d been so much worse about dancing and myself.
‘Come on.’ Summer rested her arm on my shoulders. She led me to a corner room, and we flopped together into a beanbag.
‘You’re not a horrible person, Saph,’ said Summer, once I had explained everything about Jay.
‘The thing is …’ I leaned back into the beanbag, resting my shoulder on Summer’s hip. ‘I like him. I mean, you know, I think I really like him.’ Of course I did. Why else did he annoy me so much? Why else did I delight in getting him back?
I turned my head so Summer could see my face. ‘But he hates me now.’ Somehow I couldn’t stand the idea of Jay thinking of me as cruel.
‘Heeeey,’ Summer’s voice was calm and soothing. ‘Jay adores you. It’s obvious, Saph.’ Then her head tilted and her forehead wrinkled in a way that I’d seen somewhere before. ‘Anyway, I’m the one who’s a bitch. I kept egging you on, especially at the Bats game.’ Her voice was suddenly tight, as if it was hard to get out. ‘I dunno, I think I didn’t want …’ She trailed off, frowning.
I hitched myself higher in the beanbag, and leant my arm on her leg.
‘It’s not your fault, Sum.’
Summer sighed. When she started talking again, her voice was shaky. ‘You’re my best friend, Saph. I didn’t want you to leave me behind.’
The worried tone of her words pulled me in to her for a hug, comforting us both at the same time.
Summer’s favourite song was playing again. I heard it finish, and then start again. Someone must have put it on repeat.
I pushed on the quicksand beanbag and slowly stood up. ‘Come and dance,’ I said. I wanted to be moving again. Anything to stop thinking about what I had done.
‘That’s my girl!’ Summer tried to stand, fighting with the beanbag, then fell backwards laughing.
The dance room was less crowded now, a row of people were flopped against the wall. A few were still dancing, spread out and enjoying the space of the room.
Summer did a thumbs up at two other girls from our class and started swaying beside them – head back, eyes half closed, her hair shining in the soft light.
It felt good to be moving. My arms floated soft – space to move and time to feel. I remembered again the yearning that comes over me when I dance.
Then I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Summer pointing towards the archway. She was smiling and nodding as she swayed.
Through the archway, I saw Jay’s friends crowded around the munchie table, hooting and throwing food scraps at each other. To one side was Jay – shoulders square, arms crossed, facing the dance room. He had that look in his eyes that made my skin tingle. It was dim in here, but I knew he could see me.
Summer winked, eyes bright, and then headed back to keep dancing with the other girls in our class. I kept dancing too, aware of a quickening in my chest. Arms up, head tilted, a subtle arch of my back. Nothing big like on a basketball court – just soft, silky Saph.
Here Jay, this is for you . . .
I rolled my hips and slid smoothly to one side.
It felt so natural. Suddenly simple. This was what it was all about. Not flirting with strangers in the crowd. Or fake smiles and acting a role. Not playing tricks to make people feel bad.
No. Here was someone real, who made my hopes spark and my head spin.
A slow twirl, then I bent backwards.
When I pulled out of the arch, there he was. Standing in the doorway.
I smiled at him and danced closer.
We met in the middle of the room, pulled through the tunnel to meet halfway. Jay swayed, tall and strong, while I danced around him. Not touching him, but making his body move in response to mine.
When I looked up into his face, his eyes were a little wider than I’d seen before. I’d pulled him into my dancing world. He looked happy to be there.
When the song finished Jay reached out to me and grabbed my hand in his. Strong hands, used to holding a basketball. I let him lead me through the dim light of the dance room, past the munchie table, through the sliding door, and back into the cold light of the back deck.
‘Jay? I
…’ Jay kept walking, pulling me down the wooden steps, along the path with no light. I couldn’t even see him. But I could hear his sure steps. The longer I held his hand, the warmer it felt.
Jay stopped and turned. He pulled me closer. I could feel the warmth of his body, taste his aftershave in the air. We stood there for a second, not speaking. Then his arms were around me and he was bending his head for a kiss.
Jay wasn’t the first guy I had kissed. But he was the first one who felt mind-blowingly real. The first guy I let myself touch and taste properly. The one who made me tingle with the tenderness of his lips.
Later we walked in silence back through the light of the deck, into the warmth inside.
Jay’s f
riends were crowded around the couch now, more talk and less laughter. A couple nodded at Jay, still talking, while others made room for us on the floor. A bag of corn chips was offered to me, welcoming me into the group.
So I took the bag, tasted the crunchy cheese, then passed it naturally to Jay. Someone asked me a question about Magic, and I answered in a way sure to spark debate. And as I talked and munched and shared, I realised that Jay’s friends already knew me. They understood how he felt about me. In a way, Jay had introduced me to them ages ago.
Summer appeared in the archway, hair plastered to the sweat on her forehead, a small pout as she looked my way. She suddenly looked small.
I called her over, cramming one shoulder and hip against Jay to make room for Summer on my other side.
At first she sat stiff and unsure, not listening to the basketball talk around her. Then I felt her body relax to lean back on her arms and noticed a small sparkle in her eye. She was staring at one of Jay’s friends on the couch and I guessed straightaway what she was thinking: maybe spending time with Jay’s cute friends wouldn’t be so bad after all.
CHAPTER 13
Lesley was on the phone in reception when I got to dance class on Monday night. On the studio floor, Abe and Bec were stretching their long legs, their feet almost touching as they talked.
I winked at them on my way past and headed straight to my spot at the barre. The wood felt cool and welcoming. How many hours had I spent holding it? How much of its smell was from my own sweaty hands?
Swing, kick went my leg. Into my normal warm-up. The stretch in my thigh felt like a relief. Okay, muscles, here we go again. After the week off, my back felt cool and strong.
As I kicked, more bodies appeared around me, black tights or bare legs reaching up and stretching out.
I moved away from the barre, into a forward stretch, warming the last tight cogs in my back. Then I slid smoothly into splits. Left leg first, my favourite side.
From the reception area came a series of sliding thuds, like files falling to the floor. Then the door opened and Lesley flew into the studio: arms up, cheeks flushed, voice shrill and breathless.
‘Sportscraft have SIGNED! As of this moment, they’re the official sponsor of the Magic Charms!’
It was as though we’d just won the grand final – at least, how I imagine that might be. For a moment I just sat in the splits with my mouth open like a fly catcher. Is this for real? Then I was squealing, bursting with laughter and rushing into a tangle of bodies and hugs. Gino was crying. Abe was screaming. We were hugging so close and tight I couldn’t tell whose arm was around my waist and whose breath fluffed my hair. Lesley was knotted around us, her jaw clenched in silent pride. She had worked harder for this than anyone.
After a while we pulled back, quieter now but still beaming, dizzy about a dream come true.
Megan was quiet. She seemed a bit taller somehow. For Megan, this was like Christmas and Easter and a whole series of birthdays all at once. I knew she would already be planning her resignation letter to the bank.
Lesley answered our questions about promoting the troupe, costume design, modelling work too. She was talking fast, repeating some of the good bits and slowing down to go through the contract and pay rates. Her voice moved up and down like a rollercoaster, taking our hearts along for the ride.
‘And get this, people!’ Lesley paced in front of us like a mother bear collecting her cubs. ‘They’re flying us to Canberra in two weeks! We’ll do the new opener and get to meet the marketing team. All expenses paid!’
It took a while for the whoops and chatter to die down after that. But soon Lesley was clapping for quiet.
‘Let’s get into it, people. So much dancing to do and so little time.’ She touched Megan on the shoulder and pointed for her to stand front centre as usual. The point. ‘We need to change the new opener to suit a stage instead of a basketball court.’ Another click of fingers for Bec and me – second row of two.
I stepped into place, head high. Lesley was using the triangle formation, for eight . . .
‘Hang on.’ To one side, Abe had her hands on her hips, confused about the formation.
Lesley sighed, chest heaving. I could tell that she had been dreading this.
‘We’re also making some changes. This is the big time, people.’ She stepped boldly in front of us, a sharp determination in her eye. ‘I don’t want a repeat of the last Magic game. From now on we’ll have routines for eight dancers, with a rotating understudy in case something goes wrong. Even if Gino or Andrew get sick, I’ll be able to fix it.’
For a moment there was still quiet as the people around me took in what Lesley had just said. Outside a truck squeaked as it rumbled past. Then all at once, the troupe exploded in a chorus of questions and doubt.
‘But we’ve all been –’
‘That’s not fair!’
‘Who says –’
Already, Lesley had her hands up, calling for calm. ‘I know. I know! We’ll take it in turns. Enough work for everyone.’
‘We’ll take it in turns?’ Abe’s eyes were flashing in a scowl, one hand on her hip. ‘How many dancers are covered in the Sportscraft contract?’
‘Eight,’ said Lesley evenly. ‘But you all get a turn.’
‘EIGHT!’ Abe’s face was screwed up like a kid whose icecream had just fallen off its cone. Well, a tad scarier. ‘So one of us has to learn routines, but might not dance? No exposure! What if it’s a TV gig – who misses out on that one?’
Of course, a practice session without Abe going crazy would have been like Hollywood without the celebrity tantrums. But the difference today was that everyone else agreed with her, nodding at Abe and looking to Lesley for answers.
Everyone, that is, except me. I liked the idea of an understudy. A safety net. I never wanted to live through another night like the last Magic game. We needed a backup – a sure and solid glue to hold everything together.
Gino and Andrew were shaking their heads and gesturing at each other.
‘Surely you should have discussed this with us?’ Bec’s voice was tight. Like Abe, she was standing with both hands on her hips. They were united against Lesley for now, but I could see they were minutes away from falling apart – fighting each other for a chance in the spotlight, for their shot at the basket.
I didn’t want to watch. I sat on the floor hugging my knees, mouth tight and eyes low. We were so close to living the dream: a life of beautiful moves. And yet, this wasn’t how I’d imagined it at all.
My head felt full, packed with so many hopes and fears. Jay through the tunnel. Beetroot cheeks. Sweat landing on the floor. The chant of the crowd. A missed shot at goal. There’s more to life than dreams and fantasies.
Slowly the whirling stopped.
Maybe I really was living on Mars, or maybe an alien had invaded my body and given me crazy ideas. Who knows. But suddenly, from somewhere, the answer came to me.
I lifted my head, mouth opening.
Of course . . .
After fighting so hard for this, I could hardly believe what I was about to do. But at the same time, it was easy.
I raised one arm, waiting for a hush in the voices. ‘I’ll be understudy,’ I said simply. ‘Full time. I don’t mind.’
All the faces turned to me with eyes wide and mouths open.
Megan was shaking her head and frowning. ‘Saph, you don’t have to . . .’
Gino and Andrew glanced at each other, raising their eyebrows and sharing a secret smile. If I was permanent understudy, then they wouldn’t have to miss out.
Abe was watching me carefully, still scowling but I thought I could detect a small shadow of hope.
‘You have a full place in the troupe, Saph, if you want it,’ said Lesley, her eyes narrow.
Megan leaned closer to me. ‘I know you get a hard time being youngest –’ she started.
‘Don’t talk her out of it!’ muttered Abe.
Megan ignored her. Her eyes were cl
ear and pleading. ‘Don’t let them.’
Sweet Megan. But my heart was calm and my mind was clear. This was totally perfect – a way to keep dancing without the pressure. A way to keep it real.
I sat tall and crossed my legs cleanly. ‘It’s okay, Meegs. I want this.’
‘You mean it?’ Megan said after a while. ‘You want to be understudy?’
I nodded, laughing at how crazy this must seem to everyone else. ‘Yep. Bet I get some time in the spotlight. One of you skinny girls will get sick before too long.’ I leaned back on my elbows, relaxed.
‘All right then! Thanks, Saph. Let’s get this show on the road.’ Already Lesley was back at work, pointing the rest of the troupe into formation.
I hovered at the side, and followed Lesley to the stereo area. ‘Are you okay with all this? Me being understudy?’ I asked.
She put her hands on her hips and sighed. Then pulled her hair out of its ponytail. ‘Of course, Saph. If it keeps you happy, keeps you dancing . . .’ She fluffed up her hair and smiled. ‘Understudy’s not a holiday though. You need to be able to step into any of those positions.’ She pointed to the dancers on the floor. ‘And dance like a dream at the drop of a hat.’
I smiled. Poor old Lesley – always working, making the troupe shine. Without her we’d be nothing.
‘Well, Lesley, I’m your girl!’
For the rest of the night, Lesley pounded us through the opener, fixing it for stage. I stayed at the side, dancing each run-through, then rocking on my feet, swinging my arms and singing like a kid inside.
As the music rose up for our final run-through of the night, I stared at myself in the mirror for a moment – eyes bright, body lithe and light.
Then I flew into the dance like I used to in the lounge room at home. Sassy Saph, with a hint of funk. Each hip roll was like a soothing sigh. Each head flick felt like a bad bold laugh.
When we finished, I chuckled quietly, savouring the fading buzz in my limbs. Abe looked at me in the mirror and raised her eyebrows curiously. Her place in formation was closest to my side.
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