Chapter Thirteen

‘Paige Montreal?’

I looked up.

‘Paige?’ said the mean lady, looking over her glasses at me.

‘Yes?’ I squeaked.

‘You’re up next,’ said Mean Eyes.

‘Okay.’

The remaining girls in our block looked at me like I was a weirdo. I got to my feet. I walked towards the scary, massive ballroom doors.

They opened and Riley came out. She was beaming and had two big red spots on her cheeks.

‘Paige!’ she said breathlessly. ‘Are you next?’

‘Yes,’ I whispered. One-word answers were all I could manage.

‘It’s fun!’ said Riley.

Yeah, right.

‘I’d wait for you, but I have to hurry up, Nana’s waiting to take me to Ash’s hip hop gig.’

I nodded.

‘Paige,’ huffed Mean Eyes. ‘You may go in now.’

‘You’ll be fine,’ said Riley. ‘They’re not too scary at all. Just dance like you always do.’

‘Thanks.’

‘See ya soon?’ she asked.

I nodded again before I watched her disappear.

‘They’re waiting for you,’ said Mean Eyes. Her voice could have snuffed out a candle.

I went in.

I tried to make my feet as soft as possible, but I swear a herd of elephants came tramping in with me.

Gosh. As if the ballroom wasn’t large enough when we were all in there. Now it was just me, I felt like I was in a castle.

Right at the end was a long table. Three people were sitting behind it: the man and woman who’d led the warm-up, and another lady who looked very old. She wore a huge floral scarf that swallowed her whole head.

My feet slowed. I came to a halt.

Silence.

‘You can come closer, dear,’ said Floral Scarf.

I moved forward one step.

Mr and Mrs Warm-Up looked at each other. Then Mr Warm-Up leaned on his elbow.

‘Well, hello,’ he said.

‘Hello,’ I went to say, but my spit got all slippery in my mouth. I swallowed and cleared my throat. ‘Hello,’ I tried again. My voice was meant to sound bright and cheery.

It was a miserable failure.

‘So you’re Paige,’ said Mr Warm-Up.

Obviously, said Ellie’s voice in my head.

I snorted back a giggle and tried to stand straighter.

‘We saw you in warm-up,’ he continued. ‘There was a lovely lightness to your movements,  although you need to keep your shoulders down. There’s a lot of tension around the back of your neck. I understand you’re probably a bit nervous.’

‘There’s no need to be anxious, dear,’ said Floral Scarf.

I clasped my hands together. My palms were clammy. Floral Scarf and Mr and Mrs Warm-Up kept coming in and out of focus.

‘It says on your audition form you do a lot of styles,’ said Mrs Warm-Up. ‘You must be a busy girl. What’s your favourite?’

Mind blank. All my words were stuck somewhere between my tummy and my throat.

I remembered I was supposed to be making a good impression.

‘Ballet,’ I said.

‘Of course,’ said Mr Warm-Up with a mean smile.

‘And why would you like a place in this masterclass?’ asked Mrs Warm-Up.

Well, here’s the thing. I don’t. I don’t want to be here at all. Ballet isn’t my favourite style. And I hate auditions. Also, your sweater is really ugly.

I just couldn’t lie. Not anymore. I couldn’t even think of the first step in my audition piece. And even if I could, I knew I wasn’t going to perform it well.

Because my heart wasn’t in it. And that’s where dancing should come from.

‘Actually, it’s fine if I don’t get a place,’ I answered.

‘Beg your pardon?’ asked Mrs Warm-Up. She leaned back in her chair and gaped at Mr Warm-Up and Floral Scarf. But Floral Scarf didn’t even look at her. Instead she leaned forward and rested her chin on her hand.

‘Go on, dear,’ she said.

‘It doesn’t matter if I don’t get a place,’ I said, a little more clearly. ‘It’s best it goes to somebody who actually wants to do the masterclass. Excuse me.’

What was I doing? I was turning to leave the audition! Was I really?

‘Thank you for your time,’ I added quickly, dropping a curtsy. And then I left.

‘Heh heh heh,’ I heard Floral Scarf say as I ran out. ‘I like that one. Should have done that years ago myself.’