Chapter Eight

Benji was sitting outside on the old swing set, throwing bark at the bin.

‘Rubbish only,’ I said, pointing at the sign.

He laughed. ‘Yeah, sorry for walking out,’ he said. ‘I just don’t want to do ballroom in the showcase.’

‘Are you embarrassed to dance with me?’ I asked, sitting next to him. ‘I know sometimes I’m not very good.’

‘Nah, course not!’ he said. ‘Why do you always say that?’

‘Well, when I compare myself to other girls, like Jasmine and Riley and Ellie, they’re all so talented and they always win at competitions. I only ever get third, if anything.’

‘That’s because you take too many classes,’ Benji said. ‘If you focused on the styles you like the most, you’d probably get better at them.’

‘Isn’t it good to be an all-rounder?’ I asked. I picked up some bark and began to throw it.

‘Rubbish only,’ said Benji, grinning.

‘I’ll throw you in there,’ I said, grinning back.

Benji stuck out his chest. ‘I do the lifts around here.’

‘Oh no, dancing!’ I exclaimed. ‘That’s what we’re meant to be doing now.’ I looked guiltily at the door, as if expecting Mum and Fleur to come charging out.

‘It’s more fun to throw bark at a bin,’ grumbled Benji.

‘Do you really hate ballroom that much?’ I asked him.

He was quiet for a moment. ‘I don’t hate it. It’s just …’ he threw another piece of bark. It landed right inside the bin.

‘Success!’ he cried, throwing his arms up and almost falling off the swing. I giggled.

Benji settled himself back on the seat. ‘Dunno, if it was my choice to do ballroom, I think I’d enjoy it more. But Mum made me do it because she thought I needed something to balance the hip hop. Like I’ll turn into a gangster or something.’

‘Why didn’t you just say no?’ I asked.

Benji snorted. ‘Look who’s talking.’

‘I don’t hate ballroom,’ I protested, ‘but I feel like I have to do it, which makes it less … fun.’

‘That’s exactly what I said, except more girly,’ said Benji.

‘Well, I am a girl,’ I said.

What a stupid thing to say! I picked up a whole handful of bark and threw it at the bin to cover up my embarrassment. All the little bits bounced off the edge.

‘Aw, come on,’ said Benji. ‘You’re a bad shot!’

‘So if you don’t hate ballroom, are you embarrassed that people will find out you do it?’ I asked.

‘Nah, it’s not that,’ said Benji. ‘I’m just sick of everything being ballroom, ballroom, ballroom. It’s like, do this comp, learn tango, try the waltz, do the showcase. But no one actually asks me if I want to do it. No one seems to care that hip hop’s my thing.’ He shrugged. ‘What about you?’

‘I don’t think I’m that good,’ I said. ‘Because I’m rushed off from class to class, I don’t get the time to focus on one thing. I’m stuffed full of tap and ballet and jazz and ballroom and masterclasses and showcases. All this dance stuff pushes out sleep, school, relaxing and … my best friend.’

I really missed Ellie. And here I was talking to Benji, like I would usually talk to her. Benji was cool, but he was a boy, and I didn’t feel comfortable around him like I did with Ellie.

‘Well, you know what we gotta do,’ said Benji. ‘We gotta stick together. We gotta say no to the showcase. We gotta be a team!’

He held out his hand to me in a mock superhero shake and it was dumb, because although I was practically glued to him when we were dancing, I felt really embarrassed to shake his hand.

I did, though. Very quickly.

‘Hey,’ he said, getting up off the swing. ‘I got this hip hop gig at the community festival on Sunday. Wanna come? Ash is in it, too.’

‘Oh,’ I said, ‘I can’t. I have that ballet masterclass.’

‘Your loss,’ said Benji. ‘Come on, we better go back or Fleur will lose it.’

Great. Something else I’m missing out on. And all because of a ballet masterclass I don’t even want to do.

Was there such a thing as too much dance?