Rhythm and Blues (3 page)

It wasn't a nice feeling hobbling into Silver Shoes the next day on a crutch. I was supposed to use it for a couple of weeks to help me get around and to keep the weight off my ankle.

Even trying to get up the few front steps and inside was an effort – I almost broke a sweat! My armpit ached from where the crutch was tucked in under it. But I didn't let anyone help me. My ankle might be out for
a few weeks, but it didn't mean I couldn't do things for myself!

Anyway, I got to the top of the dratted stairs and stood in the foyer of Silver Shoes (which is really just the old entrance to the church the building used to be). I felt very overwhelmed, like there was some sludgy muck pushing in on me at every side and I couldn't move.

‘Afternoon, Riley,' sang Mrs de Lacy, the main receptionist at Silver Shoes, who also happens to be Jasmine's mum. Jasmine was there, too. She gave me a good looking over.

I pushed away the sludge and flicked my two braids back. Then I straightened my body over the crutch. I would never let Jasmine see how much this stupid ankle was getting me down.

I don't know if it was because her mum was there, but Jasmine didn't have anything mean or gloating to say. In fact, I'm pretty sure there
was something like a sympathetic smile taking over her lips.

‘I heard about your ankle,' Jasmine said. ‘I'm sorry. It must be really frustrating.'

‘Uh … thanks.' There was an awkward pause, so I just blundered through to studio one.

Jasmine being nice was almost as weird as Paige being nasty!

I didn't want her pity, though. It made me more determined than ever to get my ankle in working order again.

When I got to studio one, I waved at Ellie, Ash and Paige, then went to sit down at the side of the room. Miss Caroline gave me a big, encouraging smile as I plonked my bum on the seat and threw the horrible crutch to the floor.

‘Good to see you, Riley,' she said. ‘Let me know if you need anything.'

‘Got a new ankle?' I joked.

Miss Caroline laughed. ‘Honey, mine aren't much better,' she said.

At first it was sort of fun to watch from the side. My whole perspective of the class changed when I was observing it and not actually in it, working with my brain in dance mode.

I saw how Ellie cheated a little to push herself into side splits, by letting her feet roll in. I admired Jasmine and how her flat back stretches were so straight I could have balanced marbles along her spine. And I noticed, for the first time, how Serah always confirmed she had the right alignment by watching Jasmine, and adjusting her lines off Little Miss Perfect.

But then I started to fidget. My ankle ached. The hair that always falls out of my braids began to prickle my neck in the most annoying way. I got angry at myself for sitting there like a slob when I could be dancing like the other girls.
And then I got angry when they had trouble doing a lame duck turn or a barrel jump and I knew I could have been up there, executing them perfectly, and feeling all the wonderful power and grace that comes with your body poking its tongue out at the laws of gravity.

The worst part was when it came time for exam practice. Exams are divided into four sections – standing warm-up, floor warm-up, travelling steps, and a short routine where you show off both your technique and your performance. I tried to concentrate really hard, watching the sequences and moves closely, committing them to memory, but I got confused when my body wasn't actually moving along with my mind.

I couldn't do this.

‘Toilet break,' I whispered to Miss Caroline as I struggled up out of the seat. The stupid crutch got caught on a leg of the chair and
fell to the ground with a giant clatter, and of course, everyone stopped and looked.

I gritted my teeth, hauled it up and hobbled to the door.

‘Did someone let a pirate loose?' I heard Jasmine whisper loudly.

‘You okay?' Ash mouthed at me, but I just shook my head and didn't stop moving until I was safe in the emptiness of studio two.

There I closed the door and leaned against it, sucking in breaths.

‘You're not beating me, you stupid ankle,' I said out loud, and pushed myself off the door and into the middle of the room.

I tried to balance on one foot and go through what I remembered of the warm-up part of the exam. But as soon as I put weight on my right foot, my ankle gave a warning throb and my leg buckled. Only the crutch saved me from falling to the floor.

‘Dumb thing!' I yelled at the crutch, and threw it across the room.

The sound the crutch made as it clattered and bounced against the floor was just as if it were laughing.

I woke up the next morning, hoping that my ankle had miraculously healed and that when I sprang out of bed I would land on it and …

Nope. A quick shift of weight while I sat on the edge of my bed revealed my ankle was as sprained and sore as ever.

It took all I had to not crawl under my sheets and throw the covers over my head.

My ankle even made being at school hard. I don't go to the same schools as Ellie, Paige, or Ash. I'm at this private school, St Vitus, which unfortunately a lot of the Dance Art girls go to. Luckily I have my own group of cool friends there, but I couldn't really hang out with them at lunch. We always rig up some kind of game on the basketball courts or walk around the playground, and even that was too tiring and uncomfortable for me.

Instead, I got special permission to access the library at lunch, where I spent my whole time googling or looking up in old books the best way to speed up recovery from a sprained ankle.

But after school was the worst. I had a snack. I did my homework. And then I absolutely died! I couldn't go to dancing, I couldn't go to basketball training, I couldn't go out riding
my bike, and I could barely even play chasey in the backyard with Del!

I flicked on the television. Boring.

I scanned through my brother's DVD collection. Too lame.

I braided my hair, and after that I braided Del's. Then I had to take hers out because she cried (I think I did it too tight).

I flopped around on the couch. I picked up the pamphlets the doctor had given me on ankle exercises and barely even looked at them before flinging them back down.

The house was suffocating me! It was my fifth afternoon at home since I'd sprained my ankle and I honestly thought I would just melt into a puddle of frustration if I didn't get out soon.

I needed to be moving; I needed to be learning, to have my mind engaged. Dancing was my escape!

But what could I do?

‘I hate you!' I screamed at my ankle.

My brother Fergus poked his head around the door. ‘Geez,' he said. ‘What now? I used air freshener in the toilet and everything.'

‘Not you!' I said. ‘My ankle! I'm so bored. I hate sitting around! This is the worst thing that could happen to me. And my ankle's itchy, Ferg! I can't even scratch it because of all these stupid bandages. I hate everything!' I covered my head with a pillow.

Fergus laughed. ‘What a performance,' he said, taking the pillow and bopping me lightly with it. ‘You in the running for an Academy Award or what? You know, if you hate everything, that means you hate me, and if you hate me, I can't be a good big brother and drive you somewhere that might help you out of your current mood, now, can I?' Fergus tickled
the bottom of my good foot with the pillow. ‘Can I, Riles?'

‘Get off!' I kicked at him, but he ducked it easily. ‘You can't take me places anyway, because I can't do anything. I'm like a … a plank of wood.'

‘Why don't you go visit your dance school and hang around, see your friends?' Fergus suggested. ‘That will make you feel better.'

‘I did that yesterday and I hated it,' I said. ‘It was really frustrating and annoying to watch everyone else dance when I can't. They kept making mistakes. I felt like I should be teaching them.'

‘Well, why don't you do what your mate Ash does, and find some odd jobs around the place?' Fergus said. ‘Just while you get better. Ash seems to like it. Maybe you can help out at reception or something.'

‘Maybe,' I sighed.

‘Come on, Little Miss Grump,' he said. ‘Besides, I have to go by Silver Shoes on my way to Dylan's. I'll give you a lift and pick you up when I drive home.'

‘Hmmmm –' I drawled out. ‘I don't know.'

Fergus whacked me with the pillow. ‘Up you get!' He laughed. ‘Come on, ol' Peg Leg, your ship leaves in five minutes. If you're not there by then, I'll start charging a waiting fee.'

‘You should pay me for even getting into your bomb, oh whoops, I mean car,' I said, but I got up.

Fergus was right. I had to get out of the house. And maybe I could find a use for myself at Silver Shoes that didn't directly involve dance.

Anything was better than being a couch potato.

Silver Shoes was quiet when I arrived. I could hear a class in studio two but no one else seemed to be around. Technique class was at five o' clock, so I'd see all my friends then, but what was I meant to do in the meantime?

I clod-hopped past reception, turned right and went down the hall that ran along the side of the two main studios. The side that didn't look onto the studios was lined with framed
pictures and posters, and up the nearest end to reception was the Silver Shoes noticeboard. I studied it all, hoping for inspiration about what I might be able to do for the next few weeks while my ankle healed.

I peeped through the viewing window that looked in on studio two. The juniors were in there, learning a jazz routine. The sight of them having fun and jumping around so easily made my heart twinge. They had huge smiles on their faces and I understood how they felt, but I couldn't imagine feeling like that myself with an ankle the size of a bouncing castle.

Next I poked around the back of Silver Shoes, studying the props and costume rooms, which were looking pretty spick and span thanks to Ashley's work cleaning them. Maybe I could do that, too?

But I didn't want to take away from Ashley's job. I knew that doing it helped her pay for
her beloved hip hop lessons at Silver Shoes and I would never ruin that for her.

I kept trudging on through the dark, sweet-smelling hallways, past the change rooms and Miss Caroline's office and then the teachers' room, where they all hang out when they don't have to teach.

‘Riley!' a voice called to me through the open door.

I stopped. ‘Yes?'

‘Come in here a minute, would you?' Miss Caroline poked her head around the door, a steaming mug of coffee in her hand.

‘Sure,' I said.

I wondered if I was in trouble for leaving jazz class so suddenly yesterday. Miss Caroline had been doing me a favour by letting me watch the lesson, and I guess it had been a bit rude when I stormed out.

I inched through the open doorway, trying
not to look around and make a big deal about being in the teachers' room. It's kind of a forbidden, unknown territory to students.

I mean, really, it was just an old room with peeling wallpaper and a giant ballerina rug, some old couches covered in colourful throws, with a few coffee tables and a little kitchen.

‘Come and have a seat.' Miss Caroline patted the couch opposite her. ‘Would you like some cake? Billie brought it in today. She makes the most delicious sweets.'

‘Um … thank you.' I took a slice, more to be polite than anything. Then I put it in a napkin on my lap and picked at it with my fingers.

‘How are you doing, Riley? How's the ankle?' Miss Caroline took a sip of her coffee. ‘Ick,' she said, making a face. ‘Instant.'

‘My ankle? Well, you know, still not working.' I studied a crumb and popped it into my mouth.

My gaze wandered around the room. I didn't want to look Miss Caroline in the eyes because I knew I would get upset and she'd see how down I really was. I don't like to show my feelings, much. I think I get it from Tata. That doesn't mean I don't have them, though!

‘That must be very frustrating,' Miss Caroline said, ‘for a girl with your ambition and dedication and, dare I say, competitiveness.' Her eyes twinkled at me over the steam of her coffee. With her hair in a long plait, she looked much younger than I knew she was.

‘Yeah,' I agreed. ‘I don't like sitting around on my bum, er, backside, that's for sure. But I'm also really worried about exams. I felt I was totally prepared for them, and now I don't even know if my ankle will be healed in time.'

‘Don't worry about that,' Miss Caroline said. ‘If worst comes to worst, I'll make an allowance that you can sit your exams at a
later date to everyone else. But I'm sure that if you follow your doctor's instructions and rest your ankle properly, you'll be just fine.'

‘Thank you, Miss Caroline,' I said. I scraped at some icing with my finger.

‘But –' Miss Caroline sat back on the couch ‘– what to do while we wait for this ankle to heal, hmm?'

I looked down at my cake.

‘I may have a proposition for you, Riley,' she said.

For the first time in almost a week, I felt a little flare of hope. ‘Yes?' I said.

‘It's going to be hectic coming into exams and also the end-of-year performance,' Miss Caroline said. She held up her mug. ‘Even finding time to sit down to have a cuppa is hard these days. I could really use a personal assistant, someone to help me out. To be my extra set of eyes in class and to take exam
groups when I'm busy with another; maybe even run a few errands for me? Is that something you'd like to do, Riley?'

‘Yes!' I said. ‘Yes, yes, yes!' I leaned forward and only just caught the slice of cake in time to prevent it from a mushy death on the rug.

‘Well, consider yourself hired!' Miss Caroline laughed. ‘Welcome to the staff of Silver Shoes, Riley Nason.'