Chapter Seven

I woke up the next morning, hoping that my ankle had miraculously healed and that when I sprang out of bed I would land on it and …

Nope. A quick shift of weight while I sat on the edge of my bed revealed my ankle was as sprained and sore as ever.

It took all I had to not crawl under my sheets and throw the covers over my head.

My ankle even made being at school hard. I don’t go to the same schools as Ellie, Paige, or Ash. I’m at this private school, St Vitus, which unfortunately a lot of the Dance Art girls go to. Luckily I have my own group of cool friends there, but I couldn’t really hang out with them at lunch. We always rig up some kind of game on the basketball courts or walk around the playground, and even that was too tiring and uncomfortable for me.

Instead, I got special permission to access the library at lunch, where I spent my whole time googling or looking up in old books the best way to speed up recovery from a sprained ankle.

But after school was the worst. I had a snack. I did my homework. And then I absolutely died! I couldn’t go to dancing, I couldn’t go to basketball training, I couldn’t go out riding my bike, and I could barely even play chasey in the backyard with Del!

I flicked on the television. Boring.

I scanned through my brother’s DVD collection. Too lame.

I braided my hair, and after that I braided Del’s. Then I had to take hers out because she cried (I think I did it too tight).

I flopped around on the couch. I picked up the pamphlets the doctor had given me on ankle exercises and barely even looked at them before flinging them back down.

The house was suffocating me! It was my fifth afternoon at home since I’d sprained my ankle and I honestly thought I would just melt into a puddle of frustration if I didn’t get out soon.

I needed to be moving; I needed to be learning, to have my mind engaged. Dancing was my escape!

But what could I do?

‘I hate you!’ I screamed at my ankle.

My brother Fergus poked his head around the door. ‘Geez,’ he said. ‘What now? I used air freshener in the toilet and everything.’

‘Not you!’ I said. ‘My ankle! I’m so bored. I hate sitting around! This is the worst thing that could happen to me. And my ankle’s itchy, Ferg! I can’t even scratch it because of all these stupid bandages. I hate everything!’ I covered my head with a pillow.

Fergus laughed. ‘What a performance,’ he said, taking the pillow and bopping me lightly with it. ‘You in the running for an Academy Award or what? You know, if you hate everything, that means you hate me, and if you hate me, I can’t be a good big brother and drive you somewhere that might help you out of your current mood, now, can I?’ Fergus tickled the bottom of my good foot with the pillow. ‘Can I, Riles?’

‘Get off!’ I kicked at him, but he ducked it easily. ‘You can’t take me places anyway, because I can’t do anything. I’m like a … a plank of wood.’

‘Why don’t you go visit your dance school and hang around, see your friends?’ Fergus suggested. ‘That will make you feel better.’

‘I did that yesterday and I hated it,’ I said. ‘It was really frustrating and annoying to watch everyone else dance when I can’t. They kept making mistakes. I felt like I should be teaching them.’

‘Well, why don’t you do what your mate Ash does, and find some odd jobs around the place?’ Fergus said. ‘Just while you get better. Ash seems to like it. Maybe you can help out at reception or something.’

‘Maybe,’ I sighed.

‘Come on, Little Miss Grump,’ he said. ‘Besides, I have to go by Silver Shoes on my way to Dylan’s. I’ll give you a lift and pick you up when I drive home.’

‘Hmmmm –’ I drawled out. ‘I don’t know.’

Fergus whacked me with the pillow. ‘Up you get!’ He laughed. ‘Come on, ol’ Peg Leg, your ship leaves in five minutes. If you’re not there by then, I’ll start charging a waiting fee.’

‘You should pay me for even getting into your bomb, oh whoops, I mean car,’ I said, but I got up.

Fergus was right. I had to get out of the house. And maybe I could find a use for myself at Silver Shoes that didn’t directly involve dance.

Anything was better than being a couch potato.