For the rest of the week, Charlie felt calm. Even when she wasn’t practising her dance, she still felt different, like she was holding a smile in her heart.

Whenever she had a chance, Charlie practised her solo — changing bits here and adding an extra flourish there.

She even tried leaving her hair loose and flicking it like the other girls in the class. But in the end, Charlie tied her hair back into a ponytail. It felt better that way.

On the weekend, Charlie called her mum into the lounge room to show her the new dance.

At first, Charlie’s mum kept flicking through her address book, only half-watching Charlie.

But as Charlie kept dancing, her mum put the address book down. Soon a funny, surprised look came over her mum’s face.

When Charlie finished her solo, her mum was quiet, staring at Charlie with the same surprised look on her face.

‘What’s wrong, Mum?’ asked Charlie. ‘Don’t you like it?’

‘Oh, Charlotte,’ her mum shook her head in wonder. ‘It’s beautiful.’

At school Laura started calling Charlie the Dancing Queen, and told everyone about the audition. When the teacher wished Charlie luck, everyone stared at her. But she held the calm feeling in her heart and didn’t feel like blushing at all.

Charlie felt happy right until the next dance class — the audition.

As she walked up the stairs to the dance school, she even felt excited about showing everyone her solo. Maybe Rosie would like Charlie’s dance as much as her mum did.

But then, as she opened the door, Charlie saw the trendy girls. They were wearing their costumes, and had ultrastylish hair. One of them was even wearing make-up.

As Charlie walked past them, she felt the calmness trickle away and disappear, like it was hiding out of reach. With that, came the rush of worries — wondering what the trendy girls would think, and fretting that she didn’t have a costume.

She wondered why she had bothered to come today at all. Rosie would never pick her for the main part!

All through the auditions, Charlie sat in a corner, hugging her knees.

She could tell that the trendy girls had been practising together. Their solos were a lot like Kathy’s. And in the parts they had changed, all four did the same head flicks and hip rocks.

Finally, everyone except Charlie had had her turn.

‘OK Charlie, lucky last!’ Rosie called.

Charlie stood up and ducked under the barre. As she walked to the centre of the room, her heart pounded in her chest — stronger than ever before. She felt all eyes on her — no costume, her red cheeks.

Silly Charlie.

The music started and the sweet voice began to sing.

Friday night and the lights are low …

But Charlie couldn’t move. It felt like the voice was singing for someone else, someone like the trendy girls. It didn’t feel like the song was for Charlie anymore.

Charlie shut her eyes and tried to hold the voice inside like before. But all she could feel was the thudding of her heart.

Suddenly, the music stopped.

‘What’s wrong, Charlie?’ Rosie asked her kindly.

Charlie shook her head.

She could hardly breathe, let alone talk.

‘I … I can’t,’ Charlie said.

One of the trendy girls whispered something to the others.

Charlie shook her head again. ‘I don’t want to …’

But she felt like crying when she heard her own words.

Rosie was quiet for a while, tapping the lid of the CD player.

Then she nodded.

‘OK, girls. I’ll give you the answer next week,’ she said.

In a fog, Charlie went and sat with the rest of the class. She wished she were someone else, like the trendy girls — always happy and never scared.

Life would be so much better that way.