‘Places, everyone!’ cried Rosie.

It was time to practise the dance for the concert. But Charlie was still at the barre, stunned that she was now an understudy

Please, don’t let anyone get sick, she thought.

The rest of the class formed a line at the back of the room. Charlie slipped quietly around to watch from the front.

Then the music started — loud and strong, with pulsing beats.

Boom, boom, boom.

With the beats of the music, the line of dancers started moving jerkily. Their legs were stiff. Their arms moved like cogs in a machine.

Thud, thud, clunk.

Charlie sat down and hugged her knees. The dancers were so clever. They looked just like robots!

Soon, the music changed. The clunking sounds stopped and a sweet voice started singing.

Friday night and the lights are low …

Now one of the dancers broke away from the machine. It was Kathy. She danced in the centre of the room, with the other dancers still clunking like robots behind her.

Her body seemed to move exactly how the singer sounded — groovy and happy.

Now Charlie recognised the music. It was called ‘Dancing Queen’, and it was the same music from the last class.

As the music quickened, Kathy’s dancing got faster and more dynamic until she was leaping across the room with joy. She even started doing gymnastic flips.

Next, Kathy ran to the dancing machine, pulling the other girls’ arms, and urging the robots to dance.

One by one, each of the girls broke away from the machine until, finally, the whole class was dancing together, funky and free.

You are the dancing queen …

It was the same dance sequence that Charlie had fluffed through last week. But it made sense now. Of course it was fast — it had to be. That was part of the story. As soon as the dance finished, Rosie asked them all to start again.

This time, Charlie moved to the side of the room and copied the others. As they danced, Rosie called out instructions to the class.

‘Robots, eyes on the floor.’

‘Shoulders down, Kathy. Good!’

‘Smile, girls! You’re meant to be happy now.’

By the end of the class, Charlie was buzzing. She had only managed to pick up some of the dance. But that didn’t matter. She was determined to learn the dance properly.

The dance for the concert was brilliant!

But as Charlie pulled on her clothes in the waiting area after class, one of the trendy girls called out to her.

‘What are you up to now, Charlie?’

‘Oh, um …’ Charlie looked down at her feet. Was the girl being nice to her?

‘Looks like you’re going swimming!’ the girl said in a nasty voice.

One of her friends laughed. Another friend hit the first girl on the arm.

Charlie felt blood rushing to her cheeks and a lump form in her throat. She wanted to run away and hide again.

‘I like your bathers, Charlie,’ Kathy said, pulling on a jumper and smiling. Her curly hair bounced on her shoulders. ‘That colour is cool!’

‘Yeah, don’t worry about me, Charlie,’ said the trendy girl. ‘I was only teasing.’

She said it like it was a good thing. Then she made a hissing noise and scratched her hand in the air like a cat.

The others did the same, and laughed. They seemed to have forgotten about Charlie and Kathy.

Kathy rolled her big eyes. ‘I’ll walk you downstairs,’ she said.

Charlie walked with Kathy in silence down the stairs. The shrieks and laughter of the trendy girls filtered down to them.

When Charlie said bye to Kathy, she tried to smile, but she didn’t really feel like it. Kathy was nice. But Charlie didn’t like the other girls.

Being new wasn’t just about dancing, it was about fitting in. But nothing Charlie did seemed good enough for the trendy girls.