She looks at me for a second, in the way that she does, like we’re sharing a joke that no one else is in on, then drops into the seat. ‘Like I said –’ her hand plunges into the box – ‘I can do three.’ She sticks them in her mouth just as Ms Kapoor walks back down the carriage.
Miss points a finger at me. ‘I’m going to confiscate those doughnuts, Pearl, if I see any more silly games.’
‘Do you want one, Miss?’
‘Yes.’ She puts one on each index finger. ‘This one’s for Mr Simms,’ she says, wiggling it around.
‘Miss,’ I say, ‘can we go to Oxford Street when we’re in London?’
‘No.’
‘Just Zara?’
‘No, we haven’t got time. We’ll be going straight to the dance studio.’
‘But look at Hoshi.’ I point at her baggy pants. ‘She needs Zara. It would be cruel to say no.’
‘Pearl!’ says Kat, scowling, but Hoshi is laughing, her mouth stuffed full of doughnut and pink icing.
‘You’d all better be on your best behaviour,’ says Ms Kapoor. ‘If anyone causes any trouble, they’ll find themselves out of the show.’ No one’s fooled by the ‘anyone’. We all know who she means.
‘Tough talk, Miss.’ I smile up at her.
‘I mean it.’
‘We’re not going to cause any trouble,’ says Betty. ‘We’re going to knit.’ She pulls two knitting needles out of her bag.
‘Well, OK,’ says Miss, then she carries on down the carriage, nibbling her doughnut.
‘Who wants me to knit them some Domo-kun wrist warmers?’ Betty asks. She stares at me, as though this is some sort of niceness test.
‘I do,’ I say. ‘I absolutely want you to do that.’
‘You’ve got to wear them.’
‘Definitely.’ Betty finds a ball of brown wool and her fingers start flying. ‘Kat,’ I say. ‘I notice you’ve brought your ukulele with you. Please will you teach me a song?’ I smile sweetly at her.
‘Abba?’ she asks. ‘“Dancing Queen”?’
‘Actually,’ I say, ‘I’d genuinely like to be able to play that.’
‘Awesome!’ says Bea, eyes wide. ‘Pearl’s joining our uke band. We’re called the Tampongs.’
‘No, she’s not,’ I say. Then I stick out my wrists so Betty can measure them. ‘How quickly can you knit those things?’
‘I should have them done before we get to London.’
‘Oh, great.’
‘We’ll start with the C chord,’ says Kat, passing me her baby guitar.
We fly past towns and fields, and when we stop at Gatwick, I’m wearing one wrist warmer and I can do the chorus of ‘Dancing Queen’. We sing it repeatedly as we go through the suburbs of London and I’ve pretty much nailed it by the time we get to Victoria. An old guy with a harmonica even joined in, but he had to get off at Clapham.
At Victoria, we walk down the platform laughing and singing, and Kat slips her arm through mine. Today I’m going to make myself forget that Jake likes Hoshi, that she’s the star of the show while I’m killed off halfway through. The sun’s shining, I’m going to be dancing all day and I’m in London with my friends. That box of pink doughnuts was so worth it.
SIXTEEN
We might have walked straight past Pineapple Dance Studios if their famous neon sign wasn’t glowing above the door.
As everyone piles in, I hang back, looking up at the tall red brick building with its arched windows. Then, when the street is almost empty, I go into the foyer and take in the polished floor, white walls and pink, swirly letters of the Pineapple logo across the wall. A woman is chatting to the receptionist, bag dropped by her side. Her leg muscles are defined and her waist is slim and brown. I can smell the take-out coffee she’s holding in one hand.
This is my dream. Living in London, miles away from home, dancing every day.
‘Come on, Pearl.’ Mr Simms is holding a door open and Hoshi is standing with him, waiting for me. I take one last look around, then follow them inside.
After getting changed we go into studio seventy-nine. It’s such a cool space, not because it’s smart, but because it’s scruffy. Huge windows line one wall and sunlight streams in, showing marks on the floor made by real dancers and drifting dust. There’s a long barre, white painted brick walls and a mirror that stretches the length of the room. I stare at my reflection and see my smile.
‘Relax for a minute,’ says Ms Kapoor. ‘Kieron should be here soon.’
‘Oh no, you don’t,’ says Betty as I start to peel off the wrist warmer. ‘You said you’d wear it all day.’
‘But it’s itchy,’ I say. ‘Plus, it’s ruining my look.’ Every time I glance in the mirror I see the ugly brown wrist warmer clashing with my baggy vest and leggings.
‘Keep it on. It’s your punishment for being such a bitch to Hoshi all week.’
I see Hoshi standing at the back with Jake, sharing some water.
‘I’ve had my punishment,’ I say. I pull off the wrist warmer and throw it down with my stuff.
‘Stop it,’ says Betty.
‘What?’
‘You’re watching her again, and you’ve got that look on your face.’ She scowls to show me what she means.
I force myself to smile. ‘See,’ I say. ‘Not bothered.’
Just then, the door opens and a man walks in. ‘Here’s my crew!’ he says, arms spread wide.
‘Kieron!’ says Ms Kapoor. If I’m honest, I’m a bit disappointed. He doesn’t look like a dance teacher. He looks more like a dad wearing his son’s Adidas tracksuit.
‘Kieron?’ he asks, dropping his arm round Miss’s waist. ‘I’m Kai now … Good to see you’ve still got those snake hips, Kunnali.’
‘Ms Kapoor,’ she says.
Kai laughs and walks to the front of the studio. ‘Who’s ready to get funkdafied?’ he asks. Everyone stares at their feet. ‘Get into three lines,’ he says, clapping his hands. Then he points a remote at the ceiling and music blasts into the room. ‘Let’s warm up!’ As we’re still arranging ourselves, Kai starts to dance. Wow … Now he doesn’t look like a dad!
‘Let’s see your dougies!’ he calls out.
‘What’s he talking about?’ Betty hisses at me. ‘I don’t understand his words!’
But Kai is such a good teacher it doesn’t matter who knows what a dougie is, because soon we’re all doing them, even Betty, again and again and again. Then we’re swag walking, kick crossing and doing the nae nae. He works us hard for ten minutes then tells us to take a break.
‘If that was the warm-up,’ says Betty, gulping down water, ‘how am I going to survive the actual dance?’
‘Well, I love it,’ says Kat. ‘I feel totally funkdafied … and sweaty. Have I got patches?’ She examines each armpit.
‘Yep,’ says Bea. ‘You’re basically one big patch.’
‘Gross.’ She uses a scarf to wipe her face.
Bea looks horrified. ‘That’s mine!’
‘Really? I thought it was a towel.’ She shrugs and wipes down her arms. ‘I might as well carry on now.’
In the end, we all use Bea’s scarf. ‘It’s like we’re sweat sisters,’ says Betty as she finds a dry bit to dab at her neck. Bea snatches it off her.
‘Back in positions,’ says Kai. ‘This is going to be the dance that the whole company does in the lead up to –’ he swings round and points at Jake and Hoshi – ‘your steamy kiss!’
Ms Kapoor pulls a face. ‘It’s just a kiss,’ she says. ‘No steam required.’
‘After learning my routine, it’s going to be hot.’ A few students laugh, but I stare straight ahead, trying not to lose the amazing buzz I’ve got from the dancing.
‘Well …’ says Miss. ‘Maybe warm.’
‘Hot,’ insists Kai, then he explains the dance, moving round the room, rearranging us slightly. I’m in the centre, just behind Hoshi and Jake. ‘This is the party scene, so the dance is going to be high-energy hip hop and full of saucy m
oves.’ Ms Kapoor’s eyes widen. ‘Are we ready?’ He dashes back to the front of the class. ‘Let’s start with the chicken noodle soup dance.’
It turns out I love doing the chicken noodle, but the hip moves are hard so I have to concentrate. As I follow Kai’s routine, repeating each move again and again, I forget Jake and Hoshi and I find myself in the moment, my body and mind light and free. Then Kai says we’re ready to ‘jam it out’ and we do everything we’ve learnt with minimal instructions.
‘You,’ Kai shouts, pointing at me. ‘Girl with all the hair and legs. Loving your style.’ I don’t miss a beat as we drop down low then pop straight up again. ‘And Juliet.’ Kai nods. ‘Nice. You’ve had training.’
My eyes flick to Hoshi. Kai’s words have thrown her and she turns in the wrong direction. She corrects herself and she’s back in the routine, but now I can’t take my eyes off her and soon I notice something: even though she knows every move and her timing is perfect, she keeps making mistakes, and they’re such basic mistakes it just doesn’t make sense.
‘Concentrate, big hair!’ Kai shouts. I force myself to look straight ahead, but then, out of the corner of my eye, I see that Hoshi is watching me in the mirror, just like I was watching her. She winks, then we’re spinning away from each other to finish the dance.
Next, Miss explains that they’ve built pauses into the dance for me, Hoshi and Jake to say our lines. When Tybalt sees Romeo at the party, he’s furious and tries to get him chucked out, but Romeo stays and goes on to kiss Juliet. We run through the dance slowly, but this time the three of us speak as well. We do this a couple more times, each time stopping just before the kiss.
‘It works.’ Ms Kapoor smiles and nods her head. ‘Now let’s try it with the music and we’ll finish with the kiss.’
I feel a bit sick. I ate too many doughnuts on the train, but then the music starts and I have to slide to the left with everyone else, my arms crossing in front of my face.
At the first pause, I say, ‘“Villain,”’ staring in Romeo’s direction. ‘“I’ll not endure him!”’
‘Good,’ Ms Kapoor calls over the music. ‘Nice hatred, Pearl.’
A few seconds later, Romeo and Juliet notice each other and start to move closer. They meet, Jake takes Hoshi’s hand and I hiss, ‘“It makes my flesh tremble”,’ into the silence. Music comes back on, but quieter now, and we continue with the dance while Hoshi and Jake say their lines. I speak Juliet’s lines too, silently in my head, all the time stepping back with the rest of the company – Miss doesn’t want anyone to distract from ‘her stars’.
‘“Move not”,’ says Jake, pulling Hoshi closer, ‘“while my prayer’s effect I take.”’ There’s a break in the music – a skipped heartbeat – and we freeze. Hoshi shuts her eyes and Jake kisses her on the lips. The room is silent. I can feel my heart thudding and I can feel the kiss that has been stolen from me. I shut my eyes too. I just can’t watch.
The heavy bass kicks back in and we all step back into the dance, but I can’t escape the image – in front of me and reflected in the wall-to-ceiling mirrors – of Hoshi and Jake still wrapped in each other’s arms.
The music stops and all around me people flop down or grab water, but Jake and Hoshi stand there, chests touching, faces millimetres apart.
‘I’ve got goosebumps!’ says Ms Kapoor, clasping her hands together.
SEVENTEEN
‘Stay together,’ says Mr Simms, trying to count our heads. It’s rush hour at Victoria station and, all around us, commuters push past, coffees held high, phones pressed to their ears. They look pretty irritated to find a big group of teenagers blocking their path, especially as most of the teenagers are doing the chicken noodle.
‘I never thought I’d say this, guys,’ says Ms Kapoor, ‘but please stop dancing.’
‘We can’t, Miss!’ says Betty, then she starts to do the chicken noodle around her. ‘Kai’s made us too funky!’
Ms Kapoor snatches Betty’s cupcake hat off her head. ‘I’m warning you, Betty Plum. Stop dancing.’
Betty laughs crazily and dances away.
‘That girl drank too much Mountain Dew,’ says Kat. After the rehearsal we discovered a vending machine in the foyer that sold loads of sweets and drinks from America. Before the teachers noticed, we’d raided it and now we’re on serious sugar highs.
‘I can see it,’ says Bea, drifting away from the group.
Kat pulls her back. ‘What?’
‘Krispy Kreme Doughnuts!’
‘I never want to see another doughnut again in my life,’ says Kat. ‘Hey.’ She nudges me. ‘Why are you so quiet?’
‘Tired,’ I say. My muscles are aching, but in a good way. What I’m tired of is the jealous ache in my chest that came back the moment I saw Hoshi and Jake kiss. I’ve tried to push the feeling away but I can’t seem to escape from it. It was there on the tube when they swayed against each other, and I’m feeling it right now, because I’ve just seen Jake look in Hoshi’s direction.
‘Platform fourteen!’ shouts Ms Kapoor. ‘This way. Stick together.’
Hoshi appears by my side. ‘Are there toilets on the train?’ she asks. ‘I’ve drunk too much Hawaiian Punch.’
She looks so happy, smiling up at me, that I just have to say something to bring her down. ‘No. They’re kept locked in case terrorists leave bombs in them.’
‘Oh, God,’ she says, eyes wide. ‘But I’m desperate!’
My mind starts ticking. ‘There’s the toilet,’ I say, pointing towards a row of turnstiles, ‘but Miss won’t let you go.’
‘I have to.’ Her face lights up. ‘I’ll run. They won’t even notice I’m gone. Which platform does the train go from?’
And that’s when Hoshi hands it to me: the moment I’ve been waiting so patiently for. ‘Platform thirteen,’ I say with a smile and immediately I feel lighter, better.
She dashes towards the turnstiles. ‘Cover for me!’ she calls over her shoulder. I watch as she weaves between people and suitcases, then fumbles for a coin before disappearing into the toilets.
I laugh, amazed at what has just happened. My heart speeds up. Leaving the group in central London, deliberately disobeying the teachers. That’s not good. It’s probably not enough to get Hoshi thrown off the show, but who knows? … Maybe it is!
‘Keep up, Pearl!’ shouts Mr Simms.
‘Coming!’ I run forward and link arms with Kat and Betty. ‘Rock yo’ hips,’ I say, bumping into them.
‘Shoulder lean,’ says Betty, adding a new move.
‘Come here, Bea,’ says Kat, pulling Bea on to the end of the line. We follow our teachers, doing our stupid dance and getting evils from all the boring people in suits.
‘My butt is so funkdafied!’ yells Bea, which is suddenly the funniest thing she could possibly say and we all collapse laughing.
‘Girls,’ shouts Ms Kapoor. ‘Stop showing off.’ This only makes the four of us laugh even harder and suddenly I’m happier than I have been for days.
By the time we get to our platform the train is already crammed with passengers.
‘This is a nightmare,’ says Mr Simms as we walk past carriage after carriage, each one as full as the one before. ‘What shall we do?’
‘We just need to get on,’ says Ms Kapoor, glancing at her phone. ‘It goes in a couple of minutes. They’re a sensible bunch.’ As she says this, she glances at me. ‘Listen,’ she says, raising her voice. ‘We can’t sit near each other. We can’t even get in the same carriage. So I want you all to get into small groups and stick together. You’ve got my mobile number, and I’ve got yours, so check for messages. We’ll come and find you once we’re on our way.’
All along the train, doors start closing. ‘What are you waiting for?’ asks Mr Simms.
‘Come on.’ I drag Kat back down the platform. ‘I saw a seat.’
‘A seat? What good’s that?’ she says. Betty and Bea follow us.
‘Let’s just get away from the teachers,’
I say. We jump into the next carriage and stand right by the door. We can’t get any further on to the train.
‘This is exactly what I want after all that dancing,’ says Betty, flopping back against the wall. ‘A nice bit of standing.’
‘Girls,’ says Bea, peering out of the door. ‘Is that Hoshi?’
Betty and Kat look over her shoulder. On the opposite platform is another train and sitting by the window, all on her own, is Hoshi. She’s frowning and staring at her phone. ‘It is Hoshi!’ yells Kat, banging on the glass. ‘I bet she’s trying to ring us. Hoshi!’
‘She can’t hear you,’ I say.
Betty’s got her phone out. ‘There’s no reception!’
‘There’s nothing we can do,’ I say, leaning against the luggage rack. ‘Our train is about to go.’ As one, they turn and stare at me. ‘What?’
‘Why are you smiling?’ says Kat.
‘Am I?’ I’m laughing now, I just can’t help it. ‘It’s funny. She’s got on the wrong train … for some reason.’
‘Oh my God,’ says Bea. ‘It was you. You told her to get on that train.’
‘I didn’t!’ But they just know me too well, and I can’t get rid of my smile.
‘Stop it!’ says Bea, stepping closer to me, her face pale. ‘This isn’t funny, Pearl. Stop smiling!’ Her voice is furious. ‘These funny things you do hurt. I can still remember exactly what it feels like.’
A silence has fallen over the carriage and people are turning round to stare. Now my smile has gone.
‘You act like you’ve changed,’ she says, pointing a finger in my face, ‘but you haven’t. That stuff you did to me in Year Nine – the texts, the names, the things written on my locker, the black eye – you did all that because you were jealous and wanted what I had. Well, nothing’s changed, has it? Hoshi’s got something you want and you can’t stand it!’
I try to speak, but my throat has gone dry. Kat and Betty look just as angry as Bea. She takes a step closer to me. ‘You get Hoshi off that train, Pearl …’
Star Struck Page 7
