Step Up and Dance (9 page)

‘I got your message,' said Dad, looking at his mobile lying on the table.

Bottles clanged in the fridge as Mum collected things for my sandwich. A bad sign. She always gets noisy and clumsy when she's trying to pretend everything's normal.

I sat next to Dad and moved straight into damage control. I told him about how much I was struggling with the new opener, and how great it was for Lesley to give me extra time and drive me home.

‘She's even planning more work for us. Really big stuff . . . corporate work, you know?'

Dad was staring at his mobile.

‘It's like a dream come true!' I finished.
Don't make this into a big deal, Dad
, I pleaded silently.

He looked up, frowning as if he hadn't heard a thing. ‘You need to ask permission, Saph, before you do things like that.'

‘Yeah,' I said in my super-agreeable voice. ‘But I did let you know what I was doing. And we were
really
busy.'

Dad stood, leaning forward, and pressed his finger hard into the table. ‘
Any
change to plans, you must
speak to me
.'

My hands clenched tight under the table, even as my body shrank away from Dad's dark eyes. My heart was beating fast.

Mum put her hands on Dad's shoulders, guiding him gently back to sitting.

‘It's late, Saph. And a school night. We just don't think it was a good idea, is all.'

‘Yeah, well …' I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. If only they could see this was no big deal, then everything would be fine. ‘I don't have any homework tonight. And I'm
not
tired. I'll be fine.'

‘Saph, that's not the point.' Dad's voice was calmer now, but his eyes were still flashing.

Mum put mugs on the table in front of us. But they stayed untouched, steaming silently.

‘I let you know what I was doing.'
Calm voice, Saph, stay calm.
‘And I wasn't doing anything wrong.'

‘No.' Dad cut me off abruptly. ‘You knew you were doing wrong. That's why you called my
work
mobile.' He grabbed it and shook it in his fist.

My hands gripped harder under the table. Why did he have to be like this? So unfair.

When he saw the look on my face, Dad tried to smile. Not very well. ‘I know how important cheerleading is to you, Saph. I know it's a big opportunity.' He paused. A sip of hot chocolate. ‘But you're still our child. We want to keep you safe.'

A child?
Now I started sipping too. Not tasting, but doing something – anything – to stop myself from answering back.
A child?
Would he still say that if he had seen me dancing tonight? The curve of my chest as I arched back. The smooth roll of my hips. The look in my eye. Would he still call me a child if he had seen all that?

‘Okay. I'm sorry. I won't do it again.' My voice sounded surprisingly calm.

A stunned look from Dad. Mum turned from the sandwich maker to peer at me.

‘I'm going to bed now.' A kiss on two foreheads. A calm exit from the room. Because I knew I had won.

A child?
A child would pout and cry and argue back. A child would storm into her room and slam the door. A child wouldn't apologise like I had.

Feeling numb, I stood in front of my mirror, staring at my face. I felt like the little tot who had marvelled at her own legs in tights. My face was thinner these days, and wiser. At the Magic games I pass for eighteen.

Into bed I climbed – slow and calm – because I knew I had won. I
wasn't
a child. After tonight, I wasn't Dad's little girl anymore.

CHAPTER
6

‘Go Saph! Go Saph! Go Saph!'

On Wednesday lunchtime, I headed for the basketball courts with my own personal cheerleader by my side. Summer was eating a hotdog and chanting with her mouth full – a tad disgusting. But Summer seems to get away with things like that.

I was in full freak-out mode. Last week the idea of playing basketball seemed almost fitting. (Basketball, eh? I'd show them how to play basketball!) But today it felt about as good an idea as flirting with someone in the crowd while trying to dance. This was surely going to end in another beetroot moment.

I stopped at the edge of the court. ‘Omigod, save me, Summer.'

Three gigantic Year 11 girls were running in circles around the court, throwing and catching with ease. The ball made a dull thudding sound in their hands. I knew two of the other girls from my year level – both of them dreamed of playing for the WNBL. Faith was pretty cool, but Brooke was one of those aggressive sporty girls. The kind who eats cheerleaders for breakfast.

Summer flicked her hair and giggled. ‘Go get 'em, Saph!'

‘You don't have to watch this,' I said, feeling slightly sick and still not moving from the side of the basketball court.

‘Wouldn't miss it for the world!' Summer headed for a bench and settled in as if she was sitting down at the movies.

I watched the girls and sighed.
Was I really going to do this?

We were at the end of a set of three basketball courts. The middle one was pretty much empty. But on the other end court I could see two people playing one-on-one. One was short and stocky. But the other had long limbs and a red cap – the uniform of the enemy. And if I could see Jay, then he could see me . . .

Yep, I really was going to do this.

‘Hi, Saph,' called Mr Sandown and ticked something on his clipboard. ‘Fall into line and copy the others.'

With a premature beetrooty feeling in my cheeks, I skipped daintily into line behind Faith.

She glanced down at me. (Faith's really tall.) ‘What's this all about? Do you have a crush on one of the basketballers or something?'

‘More like “or something”,' I said, and raised my eyebrows.

But at least Faith had spoken to me. The others just frowned in my general direction as if to say
who invited the bimbo?

In front of me, Faith caught the ball, dribbled, then passed to another player.

I ran forward.
Okay, let's do it.

As the Year 11 girl dribbled forward, I waited and held out my arms. Time for a bit of catchy . . .

Whoosh!
Before I knew it, a cannonball was flying straight for me. I lunged and reached.

Thwack
. The cannonball hit me hard in the chest. My left breast to be exact. The ball fell at my feet and rolled away.

‘Eyes on the ball, Saph,' called Mr Sandown.

But I wasn't in any position to take advice. I was leaning forward clutching my chest with both arms, and moaning. My eyes were watering. Now I knew why Brooke was so grumpy all the time. Playing sport was painful.

‘You okay?' Faith had her hand on my back.

I stood up and nodded, eyes still watering.

‘You'll be right. Keep at it,' she said, and ran back into line.

I blew my fringe off my forehead and glanced at the end basketball court. By now it was crowded with bodies – busy with balls and movement. A ball arced up in the air and bodies leapt to grab it. But I couldn't see a red hat among them.

Then I looked over at Summer. She was sitting with her knees hugged to her chest, hiding her mouth. But I could see her shoulders shake as she tried to smother a laugh. Summer was enjoying this a lot more than I was.

Dribbling was pretty much impossible. The first time I tried, I almost fell over. Up bounced the ball, forward moved my body, and my legs crashed into the ball. Who decided it was a good idea to run and bounce a ball at the same time?

‘Long bounces, Saph. Keep trying!' called Mr Sandown.

But it was pretty much hopeless from there on in. By the time the team started playing a practice game, I was standing on the sidelines, stepping backwards whenever the ball came near me. Throwing around a loose cannonball was
not
my idea of fun.

At one point, Faith ran up beside me. ‘Have you made your point today? Or are you coming back again for more?'

I did a groaning kind of laugh and shook my head. ‘Don't think I'm made of the right stuff.'

Faith started to speak, then she trailed off to watch the play. Brooke charged past two Year Elevens, dodging and dribbling, then threw a clean three-pointer.

‘I'll never be like that,' I said and flicked my hand at Brooke, trying not to be too dainty. ‘She's amazing.'

‘Yeah, maybe …' said Faith uncertainly.

‘Maybe what?' I could sense her wanting to say more.

Mr Sandown threw the ball up and players started scrambling for it.

I nudged Faith on the hip. ‘Come on! Out with it.'

She leaned in to me, talking low. ‘The way Brooke plays, it's all about her, you know? She'll try to score when she should pass to another player.' Faith kicked at the court with an old runner. ‘I reckon she cost us the grand final last year.'

We were quiet, staring at the movement of arms, legs and ball.

Faith looked at me carefully. ‘You don't seem selfish like that,' she nodded at the play. ‘I'll help you with the ball skills …'

I shook my head. ‘Thanks, Faith. But . . . no thanks. I don't think basketball's my cup of tea.'

But I couldn't help smiling at the idea of Faith trying to coach me to throw a cannonball.

After that I sat on the bench alone and watched the rest of practice. Summer had wandered off to talk to the drama group, and Mr Sandown pretty much ignored me for the second half of lunchtime. But there was something about the play that held me there, making me see the game in a new way.

Faith was a solid player. She didn't score much, but she had a natural instinct with the ball – a way of being where it was about to fall and knowing where the other players were about to throw. She was everywhere the ball was, in a way that I wouldn't have noticed before. I started to see how she really might reach her dream and play professional basketball.

It wasn't until the end of lunch when I started heading back up the hill from the basketball courts that I ran into Jay. He was sitting on a shady bench, bony elbows resting on knobbly knees.

Before I could stop them, my eyebrows raised automatically in an
oh there you are
kind of way. I quickly smothered that look in a gulp, but I didn't turn away.

Jay stood – slow and stiff as if he had been sitting for a while – and started clapping with a big goofy grin on his face.

Great. He must have been watching all lunchtime.

I ignored the beetrooty feel in my cheeks and did a gracious curtsey. (Ball in the boob? Clumsy tripping and dribbling? All that had just been for a laugh.)

‘I knew you'd have a go, Saph,' Jay said. Still grinning.

‘Yeah?' I put my hand on my waist and pushed a hip out. ‘You didn't think I'd
fake
my way out of it?'

‘You can be real when you want to be, Saph. That's why it's so annoying when you get sucked in by all the other stuff.'

I could feel the beetroot deepening so I rushed on. ‘Well, it's your turn now. I can lend you the pompoms but you'll have to find your own tights.'

When I said that, Jay got a funny flushed look on his face that made me laugh.

‘Anyway, the girls are really good,' I said, trying to sound like I knew what I was talking about. ‘Faith's a natural with the ball, you know?'

‘Yeah, I know,' said Jay nodding slowly, with a serious look in his eye.

Then the bell rang and I found myself walking next to Jay up to the classrooms, talking about teamwork and tactics.

At my locker I stopped, but kept talking. ‘So, players like Faith hold the whole team together,' I finished.

Jay nodded slowly. Then he stood there, looking at me. My skin tingled.

‘You should come and watch us train,' he said, without shifting his gaze. ‘Bannockburn Bats. Tomorrow night, seven-thirty, at the Sports Centre.'

‘What?' I crossed my arms and pushed out my hip again. ‘So you can put a whoopee cushion on my seat or use my head instead of a ball? I don't think so.'

‘No, I mean it,' Jay said, eyebrows high and face earnest. ‘You should come, Saph.'

‘Maybe,' I said carelessly, and turned to my locker.

For the rest of the day, I couldn't get Jay's voice out of my head.
You should come, Saph.
There was something about the way he had said my name that made me want to hear him say it again.