Super Sporty

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Super Sporty Page 4

by Chrissie Perry


  Her body seemed to move exactly how the singer sounded — groovy and happy.

  Now Charlie recognised the music. It was called ‘Dancing Queen’, and it was the same music from the last class.

  As the music quickened, Kathy’s dancing got faster and more dynamic until she was leaping across the room with joy. She even started doing gymnastic flips.

  Next, Kathy ran to the dancing machine, pulling the other girls’ arms, and urging the robots to dance.

  One by one, each of the girls broke away from the machine until, finally, the whole class was dancing together, funky and free.

  You are the dancing queen …

  It was the same dance sequence that Charlie had fluffed through last week. But it made sense now. Of course it was fast — it had to be. That was part of the story. As soon as the dance finished, Rosie asked them all to start again.

  This time, Charlie moved to the side of the room and copied the others. As they danced, Rosie called out instructions to the class.

  ‘Robots, eyes on the floor.’

  ‘Shoulders down, Kathy. Good!’

  ‘Smile, girls! You’re meant to be happy now.’

  By the end of the class, Charlie was buzzing. She had only managed to pick up some of the dance. But that didn’t matter. She was determined to learn the dance properly.

  The dance for the concert was brilliant!

  But as Charlie pulled on her clothes in the waiting area after class, one of the trendy girls called out to her.

  ‘What are you up to now, Charlie?’

  ‘Oh, um …’ Charlie looked down at her feet. Was the girl being nice to her?

  ‘Looks like you’re going swimming!’ the girl said in a nasty voice.

  One of her friends laughed. Another friend hit the first girl on the arm.

  Charlie felt blood rushing to her cheeks and a lump form in her throat. She wanted to run away and hide again.

  ‘I like your bathers, Charlie,’ Kathy said, pulling on a jumper and smiling. Her curly hair bounced on her shoulders. ‘That colour is cool!’

  ‘Yeah, don’t worry about me, Charlie,’ said the trendy girl. ‘I was only teasing.’

  She said it like it was a good thing. Then she made a hissing noise and scratched her hand in the air like a cat.

  The others did the same, and laughed. They seemed to have forgotten about Charlie and Kathy.

  Kathy rolled her big eyes. ‘I’ll walk you downstairs,’ she said.

  Charlie walked with Kathy in silence down the stairs. The shrieks and laughter of the trendy girls filtered down to them.

  When Charlie said bye to Kathy, she tried to smile, but she didn’t really feel like it. Kathy was nice. But Charlie didn’t like the other girls.

  Being new wasn’t just about dancing, it was about fitting in. But nothing Charlie did seemed good enough for the trendy girls.

  ‘You are the dancing queen,’ Laura’s voice sang out among the trees as Charlie practised the dance at school.

  There was a spot, right up the back of the pine tree area, that was almost hidden from view. It was the only place at school where Charlie didn’t feel too shy to dance.

  Sometimes, someone would run past playing chasey, but usually the other kids didn’t go near them.

  As Charlie danced, the dry pine needles kicked up around her feet.

  Kick and lean back … swivel on two feet …

  Charlie was getting used to the speed of the dance now. She had been practising for weeks. At night she would pull open the curtains in the lounge room, and use the windows as mirrors.

  She must have done the dance a hundred times by now!

  In fact, she had practised so many times that it didn’t even feel fast anymore. The dance just felt happy and free.

  Sometimes, Charlie even felt like she had time within the dance to reach out that bit further or to kick a bit higher.

  Time, even, to dream that she was the Dancing Queen.

  As Laura hummed the end of the song, Charlie leapt to the side of her pretend stage for the end of the dance.

  ‘Yay, Charlie!’ Laura clapped. ‘You make it look easy.’

  Charlie smiled and shrugged.

  The dancing was easier now. In fact, her old ballet training had come in handy. But she still didn’t feel like she fitted in at the new dance school.

  ‘Bet you’re the best in the class,’ Laura said.

  Charlie let out a small laugh and shook her head.

  Then Laura started singing again. ‘Charlie’s the dancing queen, shy and sweet, see her tiny feet!’

  They both laughed and sat down on the roots of a tall pine tree.

  ‘I’ll never be the best in the class,’ Charlie said after a while.

  ‘Yeah, right!’ Laura started pushing pine needles into a big pile.

  ‘I’m not …’ Charlie searched for the right words. ‘I’m too … different.’

  Laura shifted over so that she was sitting on her pile of pine needles like it was a cushion.

  ‘That’s just because you’re new,’ Laura said. She started pushing more pine needles into a new pile.

  Charlie shrugged. She wasn’t so new anymore. The trendy girls didn’t tease Charlie now, not like that time with the bathers. But they still weren’t very nice to her, either.

  They never said hello or bye to Charlie. They were always too busy giggling and whispering in a group.

  When Charlie finally came to class wearing proper dance shoes, the trendy girls hadn’t even noticed!

  She didn’t have any idea how to make them like her. She still didn’t know how to fit in.

  But after weeks of classes at the new dance school, Charlie did know one thing.

  She knew that she loved to dance.

  ‘Your throne, my lady,’ Laura said in a posh voice. She pointed at a new pile of pine needles.

  Charlie giggled.

  Then she sat on her throne, laughing and pretending to be a queen.

  Charlie sat under the barre and hugged her knees.

  The new costumes glittered and shimmered as the rest of the class held them up with ooohs and aaahs.

  Charlie sighed quietly. There was no costume for her. She wasn’t in the concert, so she didn’t need one.

  ‘Put it around your neck like this,’ Rosie said, showing the class how to put on their costumes.

  As Charlie watched, the rest of the class tried their costumes on. They looked like shiny metal robots.

  Charlie sighed again.

  When she had first heard about the concert, she had been scared stiff. But that felt like a long time ago. Now that she knew the dance so well, Charlie thought she could dance on stage if she had to.

  In fact, maybe wearing the costume and dancing on stage would be fun.

  ‘When you break away from the machine,’ Rosie said,‘you do this.’ She pulled at the velcro on Kathy’s costume.

  As the silver material came away, Rosie pulled it in a glittering circle. Then she wrapped it around Kathy’s waist to make a shimmery skirt.

  It glittered and rippled over Kathy’s hips as she moved.

  ‘Ooooooh!’ said everyone.

  The rest of the class copied. Soon they were all standing together in sparkling dancing skirts.

  Charlie rested her chin on her knees. She wanted to reach out and touch the shiny skirts.

  ‘OK, OK!’ Rosie clapped her hands. ‘Costumes off while we warm up.’

  ‘Awww!’ the girls groaned.

  ‘You can put them back on after that,’ Rosie said, smiling.

  When it happened, Charlie was in another world.

  In her mind, she was a clunking robot, stuck in a machine and forced to do the same work day after day.

  It didn’t matter that she was dancing to the side, away from the rest of the class. It didn’t even matter that she wasn’t wearing a costume. In her mind, Charlie was a robot, about to break away from the machine and be free. When Kathy broke away, Charlie kept jolting and jerkin
g like the others.

  That was when it happened.

  Kathy was smiling, broad and big as always. She pulled the costume from around her neck and wrapped it around her waist. She twirled and leapt with the skirt flowing around her.

  Then Kathy jumped back into one flip, and then another …

  But this time, as Kathy flipped back, the new skirt got caught under her hands. As Kathy pushed off, her hands slipped on the skirt.

  With a cry, Kathy crashed awkwardly to the floor.

  It took Charlie a while to come out of her daydream and realise what had happened. But when she did, she felt sick watching.

  Kathy was groaning and sobbing while Rosie put an icepack on her ankle. Then Rosie carried Kathy out into the waiting area.

  Soon everyone heard the receptionist talking on the phone to Kathy’s mum.

  ‘… You should probably take Kathy to hospital.’

  Charlie gulped and shook her head.

  Not Kathy.

  And not now! It was only three weeks until the concert.

  The trendy girls were whispering in a group. But they seemed more excited than worried.

  Charlie glanced at the rest of the class. Then she tiptoed to the waiting area and peeked around the door.

  Kathy was lying on the floor with her ankle propped up on a chair. Her cheeks and hair were wet with tears. Rosie and the receptionist were talking quietly in another room.

  Poor Kathy! Charlie knelt on the floor beside her friend.

  ‘Oh Kathy, don’t cry,’ Charlie whispered. ‘It’ll be all right.’

  Kathy took a quivering breath. ‘I’m going to miss the concert …’

  Charlie shook her head. But she knew Kathy was right.

  ‘… and level tests at gym!’ Kathy continued.

  Then she started crying again.

  Charlie held her friend’s hand, wishing she knew what to say.

  After a while, Kathy took a big gulp of air.

  ‘At least you’ll have a spot in the dance,’ Kathy said, trying to smile. ‘That’s one good thing.’

  Charlie shook her head again. She still didn’t know what to say.

  Being in the concert and wearing the costume would be wonderful. But she didn’t want Kathy to miss out.

  Right now, Charlie didn’t know what to hope for.

  When Kathy had left for the hospital, Rosie walked back into the studio, frowning.

  The whole class watched as she walked to the CD player and tapped her fingernails on the lid.

  Rat-a-tat-tat. Rat-a-tat-tat.

  Everyone was quiet, watching.

  ‘Well!’ Rosie tried to smile, but her eyes looked worried. ‘Change of plans.’

  Charlie held her breath.

  Rosie walked around from behind the CD player and stood in front of the class.

  She looked at Charlie.

  ‘Lucky we have an understudy,’ Rosie said.

  Charlie nodded but she didn’t smile. It all seemed so serious. And something else was worrying her.

  Straight away one of the trendy girls said out loud what was worrying Charlie.

  ‘But what about Kathy’s solo?’

  The whole class looked up at Rosie. What about Kathy’s solo?

  ‘Well, there’s not much time, but we’ll have to hold an audition.’ Rosie scanned the girls. ‘I want you all to try out for the part of the Dancing Queen.’

  Until now, everyone had been quiet. But suddenly everyone — everyone except Charlie — started talking at once.

  ‘But how can we?’

  ‘Kathy’s solo has all those flippy things in it!’

  ‘We can’t do that!’

  Rosie yelled above the noise, clapping her hands in a shimmer of nail polish.

  ‘OK, OK!’ Rosie yelled.

  When the room was quiet, she continued talking.

  ‘Now, girls. Our dance isn’t about flips.’ Rosie put her hands on her hips. ‘Can anyone tell me what our dance is about?’

  Everyone was quiet.

  ‘Being happy?’ someone suggested.

  ‘Dancing with your friends?’ said someone else.

  Charlie hugged her knees and looked at her dancing shoes. She loved the dance. For her, doing the dance was like living a perfect dream.

  ‘Well, for me,’ said Rosie, ‘the dance is about being yourself. The Dancing Queen breaks away from the crowd and dances her own special dance.’

  Rosie smiled at the class.

  ‘Next week, I want you all to show me your own special dance. Whatever that is. It doesn’t have to have flips.’

  Rosie smiled at Charlie. ‘You too, Charlie,’ Rosie said. ‘I want everyone to try out. Show me the dance that comes from your heart.’

  When Rosie said that, everyone started talking again.

  Charlie kept hugging her knees, but she couldn’t help smiling. In just one class everything had changed so much. Now she didn’t just have a spot in the dance, she was also allowed to try out for the main part!

  After class that night, Charlie pulled open the curtains in the lounge room so she could see herself in the windows.

  Her mum’s voice floated in from the kitchen. ‘You are the daaancing queeen …’

  Charlie’s mum wasn’t a very good singer. She sounded like an opera singer with a sore throat. But it was nice of her to be excited for Charlie.

  When Charlie had told her mum that she was going to be in the concert, Charlie’s mum had given her a bear hug.

  ‘Lucky we bought those dancing shoes!’ she had said.

  But now Charlie had more than dancing shoes to worry about.

  Keeping an eye on her reflection in the window, Charlie danced through Kathy’s solo. She had watched Kathy do it so many times that she already knew it by heart.

  In the parts where Kathy did her gymnastic flips, Charlie worked out some leaps and turns to do instead. But she still felt like a butterfly, just like her mum had said.

  She could tell she wasn’t half as good as Kathy. The punchy, bold parts looked so good when Kathy did them. But Charlie didn’t feel at all like a queen when she tried to copy. She felt weak and silly.

  Charlie flopped down on the carpet and made a face at the window.

  What was the point? Rosie would never pick Charlie to be the Dancing Queen. She was the newest in the class, after all.

  But until Rosie picked someone else next week, Charlie could dream.

  ‘When is it? I’ll have to come!’

  At school the next day, Laura gave Charlie a hug. She seemed even more excited about the concert than Charlie.

  ‘But there’s more,’ Charlie said over Laura’s shoulder.

  Laura pulled away from the hug to look at her. ‘More?’

  ‘Kathy was the Dancing Queen …’ Charlie trailed off. Poor Kathy. She must be so disappointed. ‘So we all get to try out for her part.’

  ‘Oooooo!’ Laura’s eyes were wide. ‘They’ll pick you for sure!’

  Charlie laughed and shook her head. ‘I knew you would say that, Laura!’

  ‘Well, it’s true,’ Laura said, grinning. ‘You keep saying how differently you dance.’

  The bell rang and they both picked up their bags.

  ‘That’s what the dance is about, isn’t it?’ Laura said. ‘Being different?’

  Charlie just shrugged.

  But for the rest of the day, she kept thinking about the part of the Dancing Queen. Laura’s words had given Charlie an idea.

  Maybe being different wasn’t so bad after all.

  After school, Charlie was back in the lounge room at home. She put ‘Dancing Queen’ on the CD player on repeat.

  Then she stood in the centre of the room, listening and swaying to the music.

  But this time, Charlie didn’t worry about Kathy’s solo or her gymnastic flips. She didn’t worry about trying to fit in. She didn’t even worry about what she looked like in the window.

  Charlie listened to the sweet voice and shut her eyes. She let t
he tune and rhythm settle inside.

  As she swayed to the music, Charlie thought about everything that had happened to her.

  Begging her parents to let her start at the new dancing school.

  Hiding from the trendy girls on her first day.

  Trying to dance like the others and feeling weak, like a butterfly.

  Charlie let it all flow through her — feeling so different, learning so much and now loving how the dance made her feel.

  Then Charlie started to dance.

  As she moved, all her feelings seemed to flow out through her body.

  It was like the words hiding inside were now coming out as she danced. Reaching to the side felt like it was for hope and yearning. Charlie pulled in for sadness, and hid safe in her own arms.

  Then she leapt in joy.

  The soft flow of an arm movement felt like a peaceful dream. Charlie leant back, feeling shy, and then exploded out, just because she was alive.

  Slowly, section by section, Charlie felt her way through her new dance. Each time she went through it, she re-lived everything through her body. It was like dancing in her own, private world.

  When she was finished, Charlie felt clear and calm. She felt happy.

  And feeling the way she did, Charlie stopped worrying about being picked to be the Dancing Queen. Right now, she felt too good to worry about that.

  The story of the Dancing Queen became Charlie’s story about being different, and fitting in. After being so shy and scared, Charlie felt like she had finally found her voice.

  For the rest of the week, Charlie felt calm. Even when she wasn’t practising her dance, she still felt different, like she was holding a smile in her heart.

  Whenever she had a chance, Charlie practised her solo — changing bits here and adding an extra flourish there.

  She even tried leaving her hair loose and flicking it like the other girls in the class. But in the end, Charlie tied her hair back into a ponytail. It felt better that way.

  On the weekend, Charlie called her mum into the lounge room to show her the new dance.

 

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