Silver Shoes 2 (2 page)

That was when the magic really happened.

Jay picked a Chris Brown song called ‘I Can Transform Ya'. It had all these robotic tones and a pounding electro beat. Jay called it ‘robo-crunk'.

We weren't doing robot moves or anything like that, though. Jay's choreography was based around the idea of being a ninja, and he
teamed it with lots of isolations and footwork right into the ground.

As we learnt the choreography, I forgot that I was the ‘new girl' at Silver Shoes, or that I'd never done hip hop before. I forgot that there was a hole in my tights and that my technique in other classes always held me back from getting put in the front row.

Technique may have been important, but Jay had this thing about ‘hitting it'.

‘When you slide and pop into this position,
hit it
,' he'd say. Or, ‘When you drop to the floor, I want you to
hit it
.'

Or when we had to pause and then look to the front, he'd go, ‘This move is all about being on top of the beat, letting the music pull your head forward and then bam, you
hit it
– you land that beat and throw it away to the audience.'

When he watched us perform the choreography he'd just taught us, he would point at someone who did really well and yell out, ‘Yeah! You
hit that
!'

But it didn't make the rest of us feel bad, or like we hadn't done well. Sometimes that happens in jazz class when Miss Caroline praises Jasmine. That always makes Ellie huff and puff like a dragon.

What I liked best, though, was that Jay didn't choreograph to counts. Everything wasn't 1, 2, 3, 4, with a move to go with it. Jay's style followed the rhythm and mood of the song, where a sound effect or word would be used to showcase a move, even if it didn't fit within the regular beats of the music. And we were allowed to add our own ‘flava' to it.

‘What you wanna do is highlight the moment the beat creates,' Jay said. ‘That way,
it's more about expressing yourself rather than just getting all the steps.'

Jay was a cool teacher. I love Miss Caroline, of course. Miss Caroline owns Silver Shoes, and she teaches a lot of the classes. But Jay was like a fun big brother, which I liked, because I only have Bridget. He reminded me a bit of Brimax. I'm pretty sure they've danced in the same crew before.

‘Nice one,' Jay said to me after the class, when everyone was cooling down or getting a drink. ‘I saw you hitting it. Who would have thought little Ash could bring it like that, hey? Miss Caroline would have a heart attack!'

‘I
loved
your class,' I said, standing up.

‘Put it there,' said Jay, holding out a hand for me to high five. ‘So how'd you go? A lot of people think hip hop isn't technical, yeah, because you can use so much freestyle. But it's hard work, am I right?'

‘Heaps,' I said. ‘Just as hard as doing an amazing jeté while keeping perfect pointe!'

‘We've got our own technique,' Jay said. ‘You gotta have that stance, that flow, that flavour. And then you've got transitions, flexibility, tricks, isolations, footwork.'

‘Yeah,' I said. ‘Might need to work on a few of those.'

‘I hope so,' Jay said. ‘You're coming back, right?'

I decided at that moment to be hopeful. ‘Sure,' I said.

Ugh. I imagined the conversation over dinner tonight. I already knew it wouldn't be as simple as that.

‘Excellent,' said Jay. ‘Ash in the house!'

‘Ash Attack!' I said.

‘Smashley,' Jay said.

‘AshFunk.'

‘Smashin' Ash!'

‘An Ashley a Day Keeps the Doctor Away,' I said.

‘Hmm,' teased Jay. ‘Too long. Not your best.'

‘I'll work on it,' I said.

I ran into Tove as I was leaving Silver Shoes. ‘Oh, hi,' I said. ‘Sorry.'

‘That's okay,' she said, and pointed at the wall. ‘Did you see that? Danceworks are running a competition to be the face of their new hip hop dancewear range. They want real dancers!'

‘Do you have attitude? All the right moves?' I read off the poster. ‘Be the face of our new “Freestyle” dance range and win a whole new Danceworks wardrobe.'

‘How amazing would that be,' Tove said.

Gosh. If anyone needed a new dance wardrobe, it was me.

‘Yeah,' I said, walking with her. ‘Hey, it was cool to see you in hip hop class today. You
were really good. You should totally enter the competition.'

‘Thanks,' said Tove. She switched her bag to the other shoulder and smiled at me. ‘You should too.'

‘Ha,' I laughed. ‘I'll break the camera.'

When we rounded the corner, Jasmine's mum was sitting behind the reception desk. Tove's face glazed over and she went back to her ‘Jasmine's number one sidekick' face.

‘See you in class,' she sniffed, before running over to Mrs de Lacy, who gave her a huge perfumed hug and cried, ‘Tovey! How was your solo lesson? I hope you're hungry. Jazzy wants to go to Groove Train for dinner.'

I had a feeling my dinner would be nowhere near as exciting.

Hmm.

Tomatoes. Bacon. Pasta. Mum's favourite ‘I'm working late, and this was cheap and easy' meal.

Wait, I think she'd shoved a bit of corn in there, too.

Welcome to dinner at the Jenkyns house.

‘So, the trial class was really fun,' I said, chasing some bacon under a pile of penne.

‘Oh, that's good,' said Mum. She looked really tired tonight. You could carry the shop ping in the bags under her eyes.

She'd been working reception and office work at the country club and I knew she didn't really like it. But I guess she had to, now that her and Dad's landscaping business had gone bust.

‘I think it's a style I could really get into,' I said.

‘That's great, Ashley,' said Dad.

‘Jay was saying there'd even be the chance to join crews and go in competitions and all that,' I continued. ‘But they don't call them competitions, they call them battles.'

My pasta was getting cold. I felt a bit sick, anyway. There was this big gluggy lump in my throat. I call it the ‘I know there's no way I'll ever get what I want' lump.

‘He seems liked a nice young man,' offered Mum.

‘I had the best time,' I said.

‘That's great, Ash,' said Mum.

‘Really great,' repeated Dad.

Everyone was silent. Bridget dropped her fork and it clanked against her bowl before falling into her cold penne.

I stared into my pasta. I took a big breath.

‘I'd like to go on taking the classes,' I said.

Dad took a drink of water. Mum stared at her dinner like there was something crawling around in it. Bridget looked at me. My face got all hot.

‘You know we can't afford it,' Mum said.

Another silence.

‘I'm happy that you love it so much, Ash. But with you already doing two classes a week, well, it's just getting a little expensive.'

‘Maybe you can drop another class,' said Bridget.

‘Could you do that, Ash?' asked Dad.

‘Dad!' I said. ‘You know I can't! We have to take technical class if we want to be in competitions. And I can't drop jazz! My friends are there! And I'm already in the dance for the eisteddfod. And it's embarrassing!'

‘Well …' said Dad. He took another drink of water.

‘I'm sorry, Ash,' said Mum. ‘It's just getting a bit pricey.'

I suppose I should tell you, but you've probably guessed. Our family doesn't have a lot of money. That's one of the reasons we moved to Bayside. And why I left Dance Art.

Mum and Dad had this gardening business – Dad built people's backyards and Mum did all the office stuff for it. But it didn't work out. We had to move house and Mum went to work at the country club. Dad is still trying to get any kind of house and garden job he can.

I guess he's not getting much because we never seem to have any money. I don't really care. Except, like now, when it means I can't dance.

Mum and Dad have always been so busy working that sometimes I don't think they notice how much I love dancing. Bridget always tells me, ‘They're doing it for you, and us, Ash. You're lucky to even go to Silver Shoes, as it is!'

That's because, like I said, I was at Dance Art Academy. They are Silver Shoes' biggest competition. There's been a rivalry for ages.

A bit more about Dance Art: they're a big razzly dazzly rich school a few suburbs away. I did jazz and a few other classes there. It's expensive, though, especially around competition time, because the teachers like to go all out and have really fancy costumes.

Dance Art was cool, but I always felt like I was in the shadow of the other girls.
The girls there were a bit snooty around me because they always had the latest and greatest clothes from Danceworks or Transitions Dancewear, while I just had some five-dollar tights. Whatever. It's not like they make you dance better.

But at Silver Shoes I feel like I can do my own thing and have fun. Going to Silver Shoes has made me
love
dance, not just like it. All I need to do now is to stop being thought of as ‘the new girl from the enemy dance school'.

Anyway. Now you know the back story.

‘I really loved the class,' I pleaded. ‘Please.'

Dad looked down at his plate. ‘Sorry, Ash,' he said.

‘We just can't afford it, babe,' said Mum.

I felt my throat lump get bigger and bigger. I was crushed.

Bridget sighed. ‘I can help you out,' she said.

Everyone looked up. Bridget rolled her eyes and waved her hand, as if to flip away all our attention.

‘No big deal,' she said. ‘I can see how much Ash wants to do this hip hop stuff. We get discount class passes at the store, so you can use those.'

Bridget works at the Danceworks store in Somersby. She doesn't really dance, but when she got fired from the bakery and needed some work, Brimax got her the job because he knows the manager.

‘Really, Bridge?' I asked.

‘Yeah, don't worry about it,' she said. ‘Maybe you can help out around the store or even at Silver Shoes to cover the rest. Why don't you ask Miss Caroline if there's something you can do at the studios?'

‘I can do that,' I said.

‘I hope this is all worth it,' grumbled Dad.

‘Of course it is,' said Bridget. ‘It means a lot to Ash.' She gave me a smile. ‘Now finish your pasta, it's getting cold.'

‘Yeah dig in, Ash,' joked Dad. ‘Your mum didn't even use a packet this time.'

‘Thank you so much,' I said, grinning at Bridget.

Dad forked his pasta in and Mum stared down at her food like she'd lost her appetite.

But I cannot tell you how excited I was. I  would have swept a hundred floors if it meant I could do hip hop.

I just hoped Miss Caroline would agree.

Miss Caroline did agree!

She said I could do the hip hop classes with the discount passes. To make up the rest, she said I could clean, tidy and organise the costume and props rooms for half an hour before or after my three classes a week.

‘They are such a mess, I've been meaning to get them sorted for ages,' she said. ‘After you've done those we can look at something
else for you to do. Although going by the state of the rooms, that will probably take you until you're old and grey.'

‘You're the best!' I said.

Miss Caroline winked at me. ‘What's say we keep our little arrangement just between you and me,' she said. ‘For now.'

That suited me just fine, I didn't really want Jasmine and Tove on my back about being the hired help at Silver Shoes. I didn't even care about sorting out the dusty costume and props rooms. It actually sounded fun!

‘Hi Tove,' I sang as I walked past her in the change room.

Tove shot me a glare that could rival the wicked witch. Whoa. I suddenly saw why Ellie  sometimes compared her to a meerkat. ‘Do not tell
anyone
I was at hip hop,' she said.

‘What?' I said. ‘Oh. Okay. Why? You looked like you were really having fun.'

‘Be quiet, Ashley,' said Tove. ‘Just please don't say anything.'

‘If you're going to keep doing the class, people will find out soon enough,' I said.

Jasmine walked up then and hooked her arm through Tove's. Her pointy, pretty face looked extra haughty today. I think her eyebrows had been raised by two centimetres. ‘Hey Tovey,' she said. ‘Nice tights,' she added to me.

Typical Jasmine-ism. She said that because it's painfully obvious my tights are not nice. They're the wrong colour and have a big rip up the side, which Bridget mended. The only reason I have them at all is because they were in the discount basket at Danceworks and Bridget nicked them for me because they're purple, and that's my favourite colour.

‘Nice wig,' I said back to her. ‘Oh, sorry, that's your hair.'

Then I walked away. That's a really good trick. Always leave before they have a chance to say something back. That way, you'll always win.

‘Hey Ash,' said Riley. She was already in class, sprawled out on the floor, one long leg propped up against the other. Her tight black curls were scraped into a sideways braid and she'd threaded a red ribbon through them.

‘Heya Riley Cyrus,' I said. ‘What happened?' There was a bandage around her middle finger and gauze wrapped around her hand.

‘Hurt it at basketball,' she said. ‘No big deal.'

‘Should you be dancing?' I asked.

‘Probably not.' She shrugged. ‘Who cares? It's fine.' Her eyes took on the ‘Riley' look, where they kind of slide over you and fix blankly on the first available sight. It's her way of saying ‘the conversation is closed'.

Ellie flounced over then, and dropped down next to us, singing some musical theatre song. Musical theatre is her new style. She's obsessed. Her voice broke on the last note.

‘That was nice,' said Riley. The corner of her mouth twitched up as she bit back her laugh.

‘I haven't warmed up,' said Ellie. She was wearing a bright pink leotard with shiny silver stars. Anyone else would get in trouble because in technique class you're meant to wear a plain neutral leotard. But Ellie gets away with stuff like that.

‘How was the hip hop class?' asked Riley.

‘What hip hop class?' Ellie's head snapped up.

‘I took a trial hip hop class the other day,' I said.

Ellie's face went a little dark. Her big green eyes stared me down and I could see the cogs working in her brain.
Will this hip hop class
make her a better dancer than me? Will it give her an edge?

Ellie and I are friends, but sometimes she can still be a bit iffy around me – like any moment I'll reveal I actually am a Dance Art spy. I guess it's New Girl syndrome.

‘Oh,' she said. ‘Cool. Anyone we know in it?'

‘Serah,' I said. I looked over at Tove. ‘I think that's it.'

‘Was it fun?' Riley asked.

‘Amazing,' I said. ‘I'm going to start taking the classes!'

‘No way!' Ellie sat back. ‘Really?'

‘Yep,' I said.

‘Are you going to start wearing high tops and backwards baseball caps too?' joked Riley.

‘Of course,' I said. ‘And jeans belted below my bum.'

‘You shouldn't make fun of your own dance style,' said Ellie. ‘If it
is
going to be your new style.'

‘It is,' I said. ‘I really love it.'

Ellie picked at the shiny silver stars on her leotard. ‘Well, I'm going to try out for that Danceworks competition to be the face of the new hip hop dancewear range.'

‘But you don't take hip hop,' Riley said. ‘That shouldn't matter,' said Ellie. ‘The poster for it said they want real dancers. I'm a real dancer.'

‘It also said, “Do you hip hop? Are you ready to bring out your best moves?”'

‘Well, Riley,' said Ellie, hands on her hips, ‘it also said, “Do you want to represent your dance school by being the face of Freestyle?” And I've been at Silver Shoes longer than anyone, and I'm one of the best dancers, so really I think I have more right to try out than,
say, some new girl who's come from another school and done one hip hop class.'

Gee, I wonder who she could have meant?

Riley gave me a sideways glance.

There was silence.

Luckily Paige tiptoed daintily into class at that moment. She looked embarrassed and out of breath. ‘Hi,' she whispered to all of us, pushing wisps of hair off her face. ‘Whoops. Just made it.'

For the next hour we learnt various ways to point our feet and stretch our bodies into positions that would rival a rubber man. Then we were shown how to jump, leap, transition, travel, run, turn and hold our backs correctly. Then we worked on tricks.

All the while I was thinking about the Danceworks competition.

I realised I really wanted to enter.

But the question was, should I tell Ellie or not?