Dazzling Danny (2 page)

I spent the rest of the class wondering what it could possibly be and why Miss Pringle wanted to talk about it. What could I do that no one else could? Nothing, as far as I knew. I was the only one in my family who wasn’t
gifted. My mum and dad both run for the county. Dad runs long distance, Mum’s a sprinter. They’ve both won medals. They’ve even been given special Achievement Awards by the Mayor. My sister Carrie, who is one big pain, is brilliant at practically everything. She’s two years older than me. Her last school report said, “Carrie works hard and plays hard. A first-class student!”

I just bet nobody would ever say that about me. Only the other day Miss Pringle had told me to stop daydreaming and pay attention. But now she wanted me to do something special!

Miss Pringle was busy telling us how the
Year 5s were going to paint the scenery and the Year 4s were going to design the programmes. Last year we had been
Year
5s and had painted scenery. Clint Parker had painted two of the girls bright green. This year we were the big shots. We were the stars! And Miss Pringle wanted me for something special …

The bell rang for break. All the rest of the class went rushing out into the playground, but Miss Pringle beckoned me over to her table.

“Now then, Danny,” she said. “We must talk. There are two very important parts that I didn’t mention… one boy, and one girl. These are the ones who have all the dreams.
We’ve already cast Coral as the girl—”

She paused, just for a second. I waited, breathlessly. Was she really going to say what I thought she was going to say?

“Both Mr Hubbard and I,” said Miss Pringle, “think that you would be perfect as the boy.”

Wow! Maybe I
was
good at something, after all.

“The only thing is,” said Miss Pringle, “it does mean that you would have to dance…”

Dance
???

Miss Pringle tilted her head to one side. “How would you feel about it?”

How I felt about it was,
you’ve got to be kidding
! Only you can’t say that to a teacher.

“What do you think?” said Miss Pringle.

“If I don’t do it;’ I said, “does that mean I can’t be in the show?”

“Oh, Danny, of course it doesn’t! Of course you’ll be in the show.”

I said, “What would I be?”

“How about one of the speakers?”

I frowned. I didn’t want to be one of the speakers! Not if Clint was going to be. I wanted to be something special.

“Look, don’t get all worried about it,” said Miss Pringle. “We can find someone else if we have to.”

I didn’t want that, either! That would mean that someone else was special. Instead of me. It might even be Clint!

“It’s just that we really do feel you’d be good at it. You’re a nice little mover! You’ve got a lot of style. Did you know that?”

I didn’t know what to say. My mum always tells me that I’m like a tornado. She says that one of these days the roof will cave in, the way I crash around. Now Miss Pringle was saying I had style!

“I was watching you, the other day,” said Miss Pringle, “when you were playing football.”

I said, “Yeah, well… football.” That was different.

“If you watch the really top players,” said Miss Pringle, “you’ll see they move very much the same way as dancers do.”

I didn’t want to be rude or anything, so I just kept quiet.

“I’ll tell you what,” said Miss Pringle.
“Tomorrow after school we’ll go through some of the steps together, just you and me, not anyone else, and you can decide whether you want to do it or not. How about that? Would that be a good idea, do you think?”

I nodded.

“All right, then. Don’t forget to ask your mum if it’s OK. Tell her we’ll just be about half an hour.”

As soon as I hit the playground, Darryl came charging over.

“So what was it? What’s she want you to do?”

I mumbled, “Wants me to do something special.”

“Like what?”

“Just something!’

I wasn’t even going to tell Darryl, in spite of him being my best friend. Not until I’d made up my mind.

I said to Mum that I had to stay late at school the next day. I said it was something to do with the library. Mum’s quite keen on books so she said that was fine.

“I’ll come by half an hour later.”

I wasn’t even going to tell Mum the real reason. She’d only go and tell Dad, and I
definitely
didn’t want Dad to know.

Next day, at the end of school, I went to the hall. Miss Pringle was there waiting for me. She was wearing a T-shirt and joggers. I like it when she dresses like that! She looks cool; not like a teacher. She said, “OK, Danny! Football number. I’ll show you what we had in mind.” Then she put on some music and started to dance.

She’s really good! Like something off the telly. I never knew Miss Pringle could dance
like that. It’s a spiky kind of dancing. Zip, zap! Leap, spin. Now she’s crouched low, snapping her fingers. Now she’s up in the air,
wham
!

As I stand watching her, my feet start to tap. They do it all by themselves. Miss Pringle jerks forward – and so do I. Miss
Pringle does a little hop – so do I. By the time she stops, I’m jigging about like some kind of glove puppet.

“Well!” She comes over to me. A bit out of breath, but not much. “What do you think? Do you feel like giving it a go?”

I said, “Um…”

It was like my mind was telling me
no
while my body was going
yes.
I didn’t want to be a dancer! But my feet were doing their own thing, twitching and tapping to the beat of the music. I couldn’t seem to stop them. Then my fingers started snapping and my legs started springing and I was following Miss Pringle, doing what she was doing. Zip, zap! Leap, spin!

“Danny, that is so good!”

I’d been in Miss Pringle’s class for a whole
term and she’d never, ever praised me before. Not like that. The most she’d ever said was, “Well done, Danny! Top marks for trying.”

Now it was like I didn’t have to try. My body was doing it all for me.

“See?” Miss Pringle beamed. A great big beam that spread across her face. “I knew you could do it! And you enjoyed it, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you didn’t!”

I grinned. I couldn’t help it. “So what shall we do?” said Miss Pringle. “Shall we put you down as the Boy?”

I wanted to yell,
“Yes
!” But there was still this little bit of me that wasn’t quite sure.

“What do you reckon?” said Miss Pringle.

I said, “Well… yeah. OK. I guess.”

Miss Pringle was really pleased. She told me I’d made the right choice.

“It’s what it’s all about…
going for it.
Doing the things
you’re good at. Because who knows where it might lead?”

She gave me a slip of paper that either Mum or Dad had to sign. I knew at once that that slip of paper was going to be a problem. I didn’t want Mum or Dad to know what I was doing! Mum and Dad were athletes. They’d always expected me and Carrie to be athletes, too. How could I tell them I was
dancing
? I knew that I couldn’t. But I had to get that bit of paper signed! Miss Pringle wouldn’t let me be in the show if I didn’t get it signed. And I really wanted to be in the show. I wanted to be something special!

All the way home in the car I was very quiet. Mum wondered if I wasn’t feeling well. I am not usually quiet. At school I am always getting told off for talking.

“I hope you’re not sickening for something,” said Mum.

I wasn’t sickening: I was thinking. I was thinking how to get my bit of paper signed. I’d had an idea …

The minute I’d finished tea, I galloped upstairs to my sister’s room. I knew she was in there as she was playing music, very loud. She always plays music when she does her homework.

“Carrie?” I knocked on the door.
You
have to knock on the door or she gets really mad. She got mad anyway. Her voice came bawling out at me.

“
What d’you want
?”

“Want to ask you something!’

“What?”

“Can I come in?”

“No!”

“
Please
?”

She let me in the end, though she grumbled about it.

“I’m busy;’ she said. “What is it?”

I showed her my slip of paper. “Could you sign Mum’s name on here for me?”

Carrie said, “Why?”

“‘Cos it’s for the end of term show and I want it to be a secret, and if you sign it,” I said, “I’ll give you something!’

“What?”

I said, “I’ll give you… 20p!”

“
20p
?” said Carrie. “You have to be joking!”

“50p?”