Straight to voicemail again. What is he doing?
‘Christian,’ I say, ‘look, there’s still time to get back. I know you’re mad at me but you can’t throw away the whole semester.’
I’m about to press Send when Abigail’s hand snakes out of nowhere and snatches my phone from me.
‘If I’ve shattered my spine, the blood is on your hands, Christian!’ she snaps.
I stare at her as she hobbles off down the corridor with Sammy, obviously in pain. Now what’s happened?
‘So Christian’s a no show? What did you do this time?’
I wheel around to see Saskia, standing there smirking. How does she even know about what’s going on between me and Christian?
‘It’s personal,’ I mutter, staring her down.
Saskia pulls a face, then walks off. I stare at her back, bile rising in my throat. I can’t just let a comment like that go.
‘Saskia,’ I call after her. She turns to face me. ‘Have I … done anything to offend you?’
She shrugs. ‘Why would you ask that?’
‘Well, someone said they thought maybe you had a problem with me, because you’ve been giving me a hard time in class.’
Saskia frowns. ‘Tara, I give you a hard time because you need it. You know it’s a difficult body to work with.’ She leans forward. ‘And imagine how embarrassing it would be, for both of us, if the “star” of first year failed. Hmm?’
Then she flounces away, leaving me shattered. Is that what Saskia really thinks of me? That I have a ‘difficult’ body? That I’m going to fail?
And then Ben’s beside me, pointing an accusing finger at Saskia’s back. ‘Did you see it?’ he tells me. ‘The twitch? She really doesn’t rate you.’
And for the first time, I start to think maybe he’s right.
Okay, it’s now or never, I think, as Ben and I line up in front of our teachers to perform our exam piece. Their pens are poised, ready to mark us. Our opening sequence goes well but when I wobble on a pirouette I’m shocked by the look on Saskia’s face. She’s actually smirking about the fact that I screwed up!
Totally thrown, my dancing gets progressively worse. When I miss an important lift, I stop, defeated.
Miss Raine flicks off the music. ‘Is there a problem, Tara?’
I take a deep breath. ‘Miss Raine, can I talk to you outside?’
Miss Raine’s eyes narrow. ‘This is an exam. Whatever you have to say, you can say it to the panel.’
I bite my lip, doing my best to avoid looking at Saskia. ‘Please? It’s private.’
Miss Raine ushers me out of the room, her face stony. ‘Well?’
‘I don’t think Saskia is going to mark me fairly,’ I explain, my gut twisting. ‘She’s been repeatedly awful to me and –’
‘Stop!’ Miss Raine barks. ‘I asked Saskia to be tough on you – to push you – and she said you’ve been more focused on boyfriends than her class.’
I stare at her, shocked. ‘That’s not true!’
Miss Raine raises an eyebrow. ‘I know you, Tara. We’ve talked about your distorted priorities before. I’ll let you come back in this afternoon, but you will not make any more excuses for being unprepared.’
My heart sinks. Saskia’s going to get away with her campaign against me and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Two hours later I’m back in the studio, fronting up to the panel again. This time round I try to forget all about Christian and Saskia and focus instead on my connection with Ben. He was really sweet to me at lunchtime when I was so upset. He deserves better than a partner who’s going to stuff up all the time.
Fonteyn and Nureyev both danced with other people. It wasn’t the same bond but it was brilliant in different ways. And that’s the beauty of pas de deux. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.
The music finishes and I almost run out of the studio, relieved that I danced well this time. Waiting outside the door, ready to go in, is Abigail and … Christian!
My heart skips a beat. ‘You came back!’
Christian’s voice is neutral. ‘Not for you. For me. I decided to keep my options open.’
My heart plummets again. So that’s it. We’re not going to get back together. Well, not right now anyway. Christian’s made that perfectly clear.
Maybe the very hardest part of connecting with someone is the point when you have to let them go. You just have to hope that they will find a way to come back to you.
CHAPTER 8
As soon as our exams finish, we all go a little insane. It’s our way of dealing with all that pent up energy and emotion. Everyone goes crazy, running around pelting each other with water bombs.
Me? I just want to make things right between me and Christian. But when I suggested it was time to talk about stuff, he found an excuse not to. Maybe it’s because he thinks he’s too ‘cool’ to have emotions like the rest of us. He tells me he loves me, then pushes me away for trying to help him.
But like I told Kat, eventually he will realise how good I am for him. And then when he crawls back I’ll be all, ‘Sorry, you missed your chance’.
At least, that’s the plan.
Two hours later Kat drags me down to an under-eighteens club to see a hip-hop dance crew called the Southdockers. I told her I’d prefer to stay home and mope, but she made me come anyway. And now I’m really glad she did. Their music is amazing! You can’t help wanting to dance to it.
‘Sammy!’ I scream, as he envelops me in a bear hug. ‘Where did you come from?’
Ben’s here too, and … Christian. Our eyes meet and I know there’s still a connection between us, even if he won’t admit it.
I lose myself in the music and dance my heart out with Kat, determined to have a good time whether Christian’s with me or not. And then suddenly he’s leading me away from the dance floor, to a quiet corner where you can hear yourself think over the thump of the bass.
‘That’s better,’ Christian tells me.
I nod, butterflies doing a war dance in my stomach.
‘Okay, um, this week has been pretty ordinary,’ Christian begins. ‘And I’ve been thinking maybe it’s time we … unpaused.’
I stare at him. ‘Excuse me?’
Christian shifts uncomfortably. ‘We should probably try again.’
‘Did you just say unpaused?’ I blurt, shocked.
Christian grins nervously. ‘Yeah, ah, sorry, bad joke.’
It’s bad all right. How dare he throw the same word back at me he gave me such a hard time for using?
‘It wasn’t a pause,’ I correct him. ‘You broke up with me without giving me a chance to explain. Do you have any idea how much that hurt?’
Christian’s face darkens. ‘Every time, we end up doing this,’ he mutters. He shakes his head. ‘I should have known you’d make this difficult.’
‘I’m sorry, Christian,’ I say quietly, ‘for not making it easy for you.’
Then I head back down the stairs to the dance floor.
The next morning, Christian’s already at the barre warming up when I arrive for our special Prix de Fonteyn class. As awkward as I know it’s going to be, I force myself to go over to him.
After my chat with Christian last night, I had another one with Kat. Grace spilled that Kat had been sending him texts all evening. In fact, the guys only turned up because Kat invited them to the club. I was so angry about it I accused her of all kinds of things, including talking to him about our breakup.
Kat told me she never talks about our personal stuff with Christian. And that they were friends, after all. Why shouldn’t she talk to him, just because she was my friend too? I guess she has a point there. But it was something else she said to me that I need to talk to Christian about now.
I suck in a breath. ‘Kat thinks I went way overboard tracking down your dad,’ I tell him. ‘And she was right.’
Christian’s eyes soften. ‘So were you. After everything we went through, it was unfair of me to end thi
ngs like that.’
I stare at him. That was the last thing I expected him to say. Maybe there’s hope for us after all. ‘So what do we do now?’
Christian shakes his head. ‘I thought I needed a break from this place. But I think I need a break from us.’ He pauses. ‘A break up. I’m sorry.’
And just like that, Christian and I are finally, irrevocably, over.
CHAPTER 9
Kat’s leaving Sydney. In two weeks’ time she’ll be in Paris, kicking up her heels and showing off her French knickers at the Moulin Rouge. I don’t know how I’m going to get by without her. It’s such a great opportunity for her though. Who knows? If I work hard, and make it into the Company, maybe one day I’ll be dancing in Europe myself.
But first I have to get through second year. And more importantly, Saskia’s Prix class. Now that she’s banned me from dancing The Red Shoes I’m stuck with the Prelude solo from Les Sylphides. It’s pretty, but dull. I just can’t seem to get into it. And Saskia telling me my dancing is so boring it will send the judges into a coma isn’t helping, especially when in the next breath she raves about Abigail’s solo. It’s like she’s setting me up to fail.
So when Grace suggested I change back to The Red Shoes it got me thinking. Why shouldn’t I do it? It’s only Saskia who thinks I’m not good enough. And I used to watch the movie over and over when I was little. It means something to me.
Grace thinks I should try to get Miss Raine to veto Saskia’s veto, but I can’t see how. Miss Raine already thinks I’m the girl who cried victimisation. It would be different if she saw how Saskia treats me in class, but that’s never going to happen. Saskia’s far too clever at turning on the nice when other people are around for that.
Now that I’ve moved out of the room I shared with Abigail and in with Grace, I’m starting to realise how clever she is. And supportive of me too, in a way Abigail never could be. Abigail is always so competitive. I really thought she’d changed after everything that happened last year. But the day I found out she’d deliberately broken my pointe shoes, then tried to blame it on Grace, made me realise all that therapy has been a waste of her parents’ money.
Grace has come up with a brilliant idea to catch Saskia out. We’re going to lure her into the studio by asking her for some private coaching, then set her up to put me down. It shouldn’t be too hard, seeing she takes every opportunity she can get lately. And then we’re going to catch it all on video so I can show Miss Raine proof of how she really treats me.
My hands shake as I set up the camera. What if she works out what’s going on? I might get chucked out of the Academy. Grace tells me to chill.
‘See this?’ she says, sticking a piece of well-chewed bubble gum over the red recording light. ‘Trust me. She will have no idea what’s going on.’
As soon as Saskia arrives, Grace melts away, giving me a good luck thumbs up as she leaves. I position myself between Saskia and the camera, willing myself to be calm.
Saskia drops her bag on the chair, then glances down at my red pointe shoes.
‘Déjà vu,’ she snipes.
I force a fake smile onto my face. ‘I’ve been working really hard on it, in my spare time,’ I explain. ‘All I want is one chance to change your mind.’
Saskia looks at me for a long moment. Then she sighs and folds her arms.
‘Thrill me.’
I click the music on and launch into my solo. It’s maybe not the best I’ve ever danced – I’m too nervous about the consequences if I get sprung. But it’s not bad either. Hopefully Saskia will be able to see that she’s been judging me unfairly, and I can abandon the whole plan.
The music stops and I haul myself up from the floor, out of breath.
‘What did you think?’ I pant.
Saskia shakes her head. ‘Everything I said last time still holds. Sweetie, I know you want this to work but …’ she stops and pulls a face ‘… it just doesn’t.’
Saskia inserts another CD into the player, giving me a chance to quickly check the camera. Everything’s working okay. Time for round two.
‘I need more than that,’ I say, moving closer to Saskia to ensure we’re both in shot. Grace has coached me in exactly what to say. ‘The other teachers give really specific notes, but you often don’t. I mean, I know you haven’t been teaching very long,’ I add apologetically.
Saskia’s eyes narrow. ‘You’re questioning my experience?’
I shrug. ‘I’m trying to understand you better.’
‘All right,’ Saskia says, folding her arms. ‘So what made you pick The Red Shoes?’
‘Well, at first I was inspired by your version,’ I say carefully. ‘But I also connect with the story.’
Saskia smirks. ‘Do you? And what are you trying to convey?’
‘Victoria’s pain,’ I say, thinking of Christian. ‘Finding the love of her life, but then choosing dance. In the end, performing while she’s grieving.’
‘So you’ve experienced grief and heartbreak?’
‘Um … yes,’ I say, slightly thrown by the directness of her question.
Saskia laughs. ‘No, you haven’t. You’re a child. All I see is a silly kid flouncing around. And yet you’re arrogant enough to think you’re an artist.’
What have I unleashed here? I never realised just how strongly Saskia felt about me. She seems to hate me. Really hate me. It’s scary.
‘I’m worried about you, Tara,’ she spits, her eyes flashing. ‘Because there are so many girls here more talented than you. What’s going to happen at the end of third year when you don’t get a contract with the Company? When you don’t get a contract anywhere?’ She shakes her head. ‘I know this is your pretty little dream, but …’ She breaks off, shrugging.
I stare her down, challenging her to finish what she started. ‘Say it.’
‘You’re never going to make it,’ Saskia tells me, obviously relishing every word. ‘You’re not good enough. And you never will be.’
Somehow I manage to keep my cool until she’s left the room, then the reality of her cruel words hits me like a sledgehammer. I stare at the camera, still ticking away in the corner. It holds all the proof I need to convince Miss Raine that Saskia’s out to get me.
But somehow it feels like a hollow victory.
Grace sits on her bed, playing back the video.
‘This is like one of those celeb-style meltdowns.’ She turns to me, a wicked look in her eyes. ‘We should put it online.’
I spin round, horrified. ‘No way! It was just to show Miss Raine. If Saskia saw I’d set her up, she’d get me kicked out.’
Grace rolls her eyes. ‘A, you can claim Wikileaks did it, and B, after people see this, you won’t be the one getting kicked out.’
When she puts it like that … But I’m still not sure. It’s a pretty big step.
‘I should call Kat,’ I say, picking up my phone.
Grace snatches it out of my hand. ‘You need to wean yourself off that,’ she tells me. ‘She’s not going to be able to help you from Paris.’
I nod. She’s right.
‘Look, ballet teachers get away with this all the time because they have the power and we have none. Don’t you think it’s time we took it back?’
She does have a point there.
I take a deep breath. ‘Okay, let’s do it.’
By the time I’ve realised putting the video online is maybe not the best idea I’ve ever had, it’s too late. It’s gone viral. Every time I turn around, someone else is playing it on their phone screen. Even the first years are laughing about it. Sammy’s new tutor Ollie congratulated me and according to Grace, there’s even a comment about it from a dancer in Finland.
There’s only one thing I can do. Tell Miss Raine about it before she discovers it herself. But Grace thinks that’s a bad idea. She thinks I should just pretend I haven’t even seen it. If I go to her now I’d just be incriminating myself.
But I’m the one in the video. Doesn’t that alre
ady mean I’m incriminated?
I slip into the studio for an early warm up before everyone else arrives. Looks like Saskia hasn’t arrived yet. And then …
‘Tara!’ a voice calls. ‘I was just coming to find you.’
My heart sinks as I turn to see Saskia sitting on a chair in the corner, strapping her ankle. But instead of ripping into me, she apologises instead.
‘Yesterday the specialist told me my ankle isn’t healing right. And I didn’t take it so well.’
I nod, weighing this up.
‘And I think that you copped the brunt of it. I shouldn’t have gone so far in our session.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘It would be great if we could … ah … keep that between us,’ Saskia suggests.
‘Uh-huh,’ I say, not really sure if I believe her or not. Is this a genuine apology, or just damage control? It’s hard to tell.
‘But I’ll get your Les Sylphides solo looking decent,’ Saskia promises, as the rest of the class begin to arrive.
As soon as Grace appears I grab her arm and steer her out of earshot. ‘She hasn’t seen it yet,’ I whisper. Maybe everything’s going to be okay.
Sammy, who’s come in for some extra class time, joins us at the warm up barre.
‘You’ve seen the video?’ I ask him.
Sammy nods.
‘Thoughts?’
‘You don’t need a second opinion,’ Grace jumps in.
Sammy pulls a face. ‘You set her up, T. I get that it’s hard to stand up for yourself, but …’
Sammy’s right, I think, my heart sinking. This whole ‘get Saskia’ thing, it’s just not me. And he knows it. I smile at him. Kat might be going, but I’ve still got another good friend I know I can always count on.
‘I’m going to tell Miss Raine it was me,’ I announce, my mind made up.
Except I’m two seconds too late. Miss Raine’s just stormed into the studio. And she doesn’t look happy.
Tara: Everything to Lose Page 5
