And All That Jazz

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And All That Jazz Page 1

by Samantha-Ellen Bound




  About the Book

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

  Eleanor Irvin is ten years old, and dancing is her everything. Tap, ballet, lyrical and ballroom – she’s tried it all. But her favourite style, by far, is jazz.

  When Miss Caroline, the owner of Silver Shoes, announces she will be selecting dancers to perform in the upcoming Jazz Groove Dance Competition, Ellie is over the moon! There’s only one problem: she’s not so good at auditions. Actually, there might be a few problems – Ellie’s dance enemy, Jasmine, seems determined to ruin her chances and the new girl, Ashley, is really talented. Will Ellie be able to overcome her nerves and hold on to the spotlight?

  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

  Chapter Nineteen

  Character Profile: Eleanor Irvin

  How to do a Perfect Grand Jeté

  Glossary

  About the Author

  Copyright Notice

  Loved the book?

  For Mum and Nan, costume-makers extraordinaire

  Chapter One

  There were two surprises waiting for me at dance class on Wednesday.

  Talk about being unprepared.

  I walked into class focused – I wanted to show Miss Caroline I’d worked on all the parts of the routine that she said needed attention. Secretly I was hoping the other girls hadn’t been practising as much as me – that they might even forget the new moves. It’s not like I wanted them to do badly. I just want to be the best.

  When it comes to dancing, you’ve got to stand out. No one looks at you if you’re in the back row.

  My name is Eleanor Irvin, but everyone calls me Ellie. I’m ten years old, and dancing is my whole life! Tap, ballet, lyrical – I’ve tried it all. Ever since I was a toddler. But my all-time favourite style is jazz. When I’m older I’d like to be a famous dancer, or maybe even a choreographer for pop stars. That’d be the coolest job ever.

  So when I showed up for class on Wednesday, ready to work hard, the last thing I needed were those two surprises. That really pulled my focus. But another rule of dance is that you have to be adaptable.

  I was lacing my new hot-pink jazz sneakers when Miss Caroline called out to the class, ‘I know it’s short notice, girls, but I’ve decided to enter a Silver Shoes dance troupe into the Jazz Groove Dance Competition. The competition is only three weeks away, so we have to really work!’

  Three weeks! My stomach did a triple aerial right down to the floor. My left foot still had this annoying arch, which totally ruined the line of my legs when I did my grande jeté, and my triple turns were more like two-and-a-half stumbles. How was I going to fix that in three weeks!

  And then Miss Caroline dropped in the second surprise.

  ‘Today we also welcome a new dancer to Silver Shoes. Ashley has just moved to Bayside and she knocked our socks off at the audition!’

  Miss Caroline makes everyone ‘audition’ when they come to Silver Shoes so she can see what level we’re at, and also if we might be suitable for any competition troupes. Usually it’s just a trial class – I don’t know why this new girl got her own special audition.

  Ashley looked kind of embarrassed and stared down at her shoes, which were tattered old jazz slippers – obviously second-hand. She had short, straight brown hair and kept pushing her fringe out of her eyes.

  ‘What other classes will you be doing at Silver Shoes, Ashley?’ asked Miss Caroline.

  ‘I’m hoping to try hip hop,’ she said.

  Only jazz and hip hop? I thought to myself. She’ll never improve if she only takes two classes. Everyone knows you have to be a good all-rounder if you want to get anywhere in dance.

  We were all staring at Ashley, but Jasmine and Tove were being super-friendly and waving at her to come over. Their smiles were full of huge, bright white teeth.

  Jasmine and Tove are my least favourite people at Silver Shoes. I mean, they’re good dancers and pretty or whatever, but that’s where the positives end.

  Last year I asked Mum if I could get my teeth whitened so my smile could be as shiny as Jasmine’s. It looks so good when you’re on stage. But Mum put her no-nonsense face on and said, ‘One thousand dollars on tooth whitening, Eleanor, or one thousand dollars on dance lessons for this term. You choose.’

  I chose dance lessons. Duh. What’s the point of getting my teeth whitened if I can’t dance to show them off? Gosh, Mum can be silly sometimes.

  Anyway, just as I was wondering if Ashley could be a threat to my place in the troupe, Miss Caroline said:

  ‘We’ll be auditioning for places in the comp troupe today – I only need eight dancers for what I’ve got in mind. Let’s start warming up. Everyone get ready to bring me your best moves!’

  Auditions! Well, that was it for me. I just about died right there.

  Chapter Two

  Did I tell you? I’m not so good with auditions. I usually try so hard that I end up trying too much, and that’s when I lose what Miss Caroline says is my ‘natural rhythm’. Mum’s description of me trying too hard is a ‘crazy possessed robot with a bright red face’. I prefer Miss Caroline’s spin on it.

  I really, really, really wanted to get into this competition. I needed to. One, because people – sometimes important people such as talent scouts – see you at competitions. And two, because if I can’t get into one lousy performance troupe in my own dance school, how am I supposed to get into a famous pop star’s video clip?

  We don’t enter competitions very often. And with no eisteddfods or dance festivals coming up on the calendar, if I didn’t get into the competition troupe now, I’d be waiting ages to try out for the next one. And, there were almost twenty dancers in our jazz class. Miss Caroline wouldn’t even be choosing half.

  We all lined up in the studio. My best friend, Paige, was next to me. I felt her looking my way and I knew she wanted to say something, but I was so focused on doing a good job I could barely look at her. She caught my eye in the end, though. Paige always does. It’s her best trick.

  ‘I’m so nervous!’ I whispered.

  Paige, whose hair was in a bun so tight it pulled up her eyebrows, smiled at me. Then she gave my foot a squeeze, seeing as it was probably too hard to hug me while she was in the middle of doing the splits.

  ‘Don’t worry about it, Ellie,’ she said. ‘Just dance like you always do, you’ll be great.’

  I couldn’t help but notice she could do a perfect split, while I was still a centimetre off the ground. Ugh. Paige is so perfect sometimes, with her white-blonde curls and big blue eyes. She’s the same height as me but so skinny that her nickname when we were little was Twiggy. It’s lucky she’s my best friend, or I might hate her.

  I looked at her split and started to panic but then I realised how silly I was being, and how hard Paige had worked to get the perfect split. ‘Focus, Eleanor,’ I said to myself. ‘You’re the best dancer in this class.’

  It wasn’t quite true. Remember Jasmine, with the big white smile? Well, she’s almost as good as me. She might even be better, but only in some areas. Jasmine’s always the star in contempora
ry and classical routines – her flexibility is out of this world. But any style that’s upbeat, like jazz or hip hop, those moves belong to me. Jasmine wouldn’t be caught dead doing hip hop. She says it’s lame. I think it’s just because she can’t do it that well.

  ‘Good luck, Ellie,’ Jasmine said to me now, with her huge, fake, too-white smile.

  I stood behind her and made a face at her baby-blue leotard. Ugh, pastels. Bright colours are so much cooler. I’m always embellishing my dance clothes. Back when I had plain black jazz boots, I put pink and silver sparkly laces in them and stuck rhinestones on the top. You have to stand out, even in class. No one wants to look at the same old boring pastels.

  Miss Caroline began teaching us the dance. We had to learn it that lesson and perform it for her, so she could pick who was in the dance troupe for Jazz Groove. It was hard, too – she made us do fouettes and axle jumps, and every fourth step seemed like it was a high kick or an attitude.

  I was concentrating pretty hard, and I was doing well until I noticed two things that took the pointe right out of my feet.

  One was that Jasmine was totally showing off, and Miss Caroline kept beaming at her and saying things like, ‘That’s it, Jasmine! Perfect!’

  The second was that the new girl, Ashley, was really good. She didn’t have the best flexibility or technique, but she had great rhythm and style. It was hard to take your eyes off her.

  And that’s when I fell right on my bum.

  Chapter Three

  ‘Ellie! Are you all right?’

  Of course Jasmine called out first and made a fuss. Otherwise everyone wouldn’t have noticed. (Well, they probably would have, considering I crashed into Riley, who crashed into Jasmine, and then everyone went down like dominoes.) But still, Jasmine was being nasty by drawing attention to my fall.

  It was all that new girl Ashley’s fault. She’d broken my concentration by showing off and being so good. I scowled at her.

  Ashley looked a bit taken aback. But I didn’t care. I’d probably ruined my chances at getting into the competition troupe now. To make matters worse, Riley, who was supposed to be one of my closest friends at Silver Shoes, saw me scowling at Ashley. Then Riley flashed me a bad look and smiled at Ashley.

  Some friend!

  ‘Don’t worry about it, Ellie,’ said Paige, my real friend. She grabbed my arm and helped me up. ‘Everybody does it. You just got a bit off balance.’

  ‘Everything all right, Ellie?’ asked Miss Caroline. ‘Did you hurt yourself?’ She stopped the music and the whole class looked at me. My cheeks must have been bright red. I’m surprised I didn’t burn Paige when she helped me up.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I said in a small voice.

  ‘I’m not,’ said Tove. ‘I’m going to have a bruise.’

  ‘I just stumbled a bit, Miss Caroline,’ I said. ‘I thought the floor was a bit slippery when we were stretching.’

  ‘I didn’t notice anything before and I was stretching right where you’re standing,’ said Jasmine. She flicked her long, caramel-coloured ponytail. ‘Maybe your shoes have lost their grip.’

  ‘My shoes are fine,’ I snapped at her. ‘Maybe you need to get a grip.’ Then I tossed my own hair and gave Miss Caroline a big smile. ‘We can go on now,’ I said.

  ‘As long as you’re okay,’ Miss Caroline said. ‘And everyone else. No one needs ice?’

  ‘Ellie needs some for her red face,’ Jasmine muttered under her breath.

  ‘Remember when you fell off the stage last year?’ said Riley to Jasmine. ‘Right in front of Jay, and he saw your knickers.’

  Jay teaches hip hop at Silver Shoes. He’s tall and one of the youngest teachers. Jay has this long shaggy haircut that he always flicks to the side when he talks to you. He’s kind of cute.

  ‘I didn’t fall,’ said Jasmine, her hands on her hips. ‘I was pushed.’

  ‘If you say so,’ said Riley. She gave me a small smile. I decided she could be my friend again.

  I was extra careful not to make any more mistakes while Miss Caroline taught us the rest of the dance. Luckily I hadn’t hurt myself when I fell, but it definitely put me off. I didn’t feel very confident when Miss Caroline asked us to do the final run-through of the dance. I even tried to position myself at the back. I never do that. I’m always front and centre. When Jasmine doesn’t steal it from me, of course.

  At the end of class we all collapsed on the floor, panting and stretching and anxious to see if we’d made it through. I have to admit, I was kind of sulking at the back. Not even Paige wanted to sit near me.

  ‘You girls are fantastic,’ Miss Caroline said. ‘And I’d love to see you all in the troupe. Unfortunately I only need eight dancers, but you all handled the choreography well today.’

  I love the word ‘choreography’. It means putting together the moves for a dance. I’ve done some choreography myself, for school talent shows. Jasmine calls choreography ‘chori’. I hate that. She probably can’t say the word properly, so she shortened it to be cool.

  ‘For the competition in three weeks’ time I have selected the following people,’ Miss Caroline said. ‘Jasmine, Riley, Bethany, Tove, Ashley, Paige, Serah and Eleanor. Well done, girls – be prepared to work hard these next few weeks!’

  Oh my god.

  I’d been called last.

  How disappointing.

  How embarrassing.

  I’d really messed up.

  Chapter Four

  My name is never read out last. I was so angry that I’d let myself down.

  ‘You just had a bad day,’ Paige told me after we’d taken off our jazz shoes and were walking to the car. ‘At least you still got in the troupe.’

  ‘That new girl Ashley got called before me and she hasn’t even proven herself yet. She’s only been here for one class.’

  ‘She was very good,’ said Paige, who never says anything bad about anyone. Even Jasmine.

  ‘I bet Miss Caroline only put Ashley in because she wanted her to feel welcome,’ I said sniffily.

  ‘She got in because she’s a good dancer,’ said Paige. ‘And she’s funny. I like her.’

  ‘Well, Riley told me she used to go to Dance Art,’ I said. Dance Art Academy is our rival dance school. They’re this big, rich, posh school in the next suburb. ‘So I don’t know what she thinks she’s doing here.’

  ‘Maybe she heard Silver Shoes was the best dance school ever!’ Paige grinned.

  ‘Well,’ I said, ‘fancy Dance Art training or not, she couldn’t get her leg very high on the arabesques.’ I knew I was being a snot but I had a lot to get off my chest.

  ‘I’m sure that will get straightened out in technique class,’ said Paige. She gave me a nudge. ‘Hopefully along with your bad mood.’

  Paige never calls me out, so I knew I was definitely being a snotty snob. I didn’t get a chance to apologise though, because Paige’s mum rushed over to us.

  ‘Hiya Paigey, hi Ellie,’ she said. Her hair was freshly dyed red and she had lots of sparkly purple eyeshadow on. She looked like the dressing room after a concert. I can’t wait until I can wear eye make-up. Mum only lets me when I have a performance.

  ‘You have plenty of time to grow up,’ Mum told me, when I tried to wear my false eyelashes to school. ‘You don’t need to have fluttery eyes to do sums.’

  My mum and Paige’s mum are very different. Sometimes I don’t think my mum likes Mrs Montreal. ‘A flapping, gabby parrot,’ I overheard her say once, when she thought I couldn’t hear. But Mum’s always nice to her face.

  ‘How’d you go today, Paigey?’ asked Mrs Montreal. ‘Did you get those switch leaps we’ve been working on?’

  A switch leap is where you do two splits in the air, switching really fast between the two legs. Hardly anyone in our jazz class can do it. I’m good at pretending, though – it’s all in the showmanship.

  ‘Not really,’ said Paige. ‘We were working on the audition today.’

  ‘Audition?’ Paige�
�s mum said immediately, waving her arms around. All the bracelets on her arm jangled. ‘What for? Did you get in?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Paige. She looked embarrassed.

  ‘Oh, well done!’ screamed Mrs Montreal. She swept Paige up in her arms and I almost got knocked out by the tidal wave of perfume that floated after her.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Paige, rolling the gravel under her feet.

  ‘Tell me all about it in the car,’ said Mrs Montreal. ‘See you tomorrow, Ellie!’

  ‘See ya,’ I said, and sat down on the church steps to wait for Mum.

  Silver Shoes is actually this big old church that Miss Caroline’s family had renovated into a dance school. The church was made into two studios and the little church hall out the back was turned into the drama/singing rooms.

  They’ve designed the studios so they’re all modern with these huge mirrors and bright lights, but what I like best are the hallways and dressing rooms behind the studios, where they keep the costumes and the props. It’s dark and theatrical back there – I love pretending I’m some old-fashioned actress waiting to go on stage.

  My mum pulled up late, as usual. She’d just come from teaching class at the gym and she was still in her workout gear with her hair pulled up into a messy ponytail. Unlike Paige’s mum, she hardly ever wears make-up, but I think she’s just as pretty.

  My little brother was in the front seat. He had a bandaid on his knee.

  ‘Hey Lucas,’ I said. ‘Oh no, did you fall over? You didn’t hurt the ground, did you?’

 

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