Sammy Page 4

‘Mate, two minutes on a footy field and you’d be dead,’ Ollie counters.

  ‘Yeah? Try dancing Onegin,’ Ethan fires back.

  ‘Try dancing with a broken jaw.’

  Patrick isn’t standing for it. ‘These guys are our guests for the week – that’s not going to change. I don’t know how you’re all going to find a way to sort this out. But you will.’

  Ethan and Ollie come up with a challenge to see which is the toughest, ballet or football – a challenge that seems like a good idea, one that we couldn’t possibly lose.

  They have to make it all the way through the gypsy dance doing all the steps and finishing in unison. All we have to do is score one try against them in a touch footy match.

  ‘Touch footy isn’t even their code,’ says Ethan.

  The night after the challenge has been set, Abigail and I are having our usual debate in her room. I think I’ve got more chance of crash tackling Jai than I do of shifting Abigail on our relationship. And she can cause more pain than any footballer could.

  ‘You can’t kiss someone and pretend it’s irrelevant. It means something,’ I say.

  ‘It’s just lips on other lips,’ she says, almost as if it’s something distasteful.

  I tell her I know she doesn’t believe that.

  Outside in the corridor is the unmistakable noise of Ollie, Jai and the footballers. They are incapable of taking a step without making a racket.

  ‘Hey you. Sports person,’ Abigail shouts out at Jai. ‘Come here a second.’

  He walks into the room, she grabs him and kisses him full on the lips. I can’t believe it. His mates whoop and she walks out. Me and the footy player are both left there stunned, but he’s only had his lips assaulted. I’ve had my heart ripped from my chest and kicked into touch.

  The next morning at the café outside the Academy I’m trying to talk to Abigail and she’s trying to ignore me. The usual public routine.

  Jai walks up. He glances at me and then he stumbles out a question to Abigail. ‘What’s the coffee like here?’

  ‘Brown and wet.’

  Good answer. It’s a relief when someone else is at the pointy end of her tongue. He looks at me again. Like I’m going to give him permission to chat up the girl I’m crazy about.

  ‘Okay, well I should get going. My rond de jambe is crying out for attention.’

  He thinks he’s being funny, but at least he’s proved my point.

  ‘See you kissed him and now he’s fallen for you,’ I say after he’s gone. ‘It means something. You might hide it but I know you actually have feelings for me.’

  ‘Not for you, not for anyone. Haven’t you figured it out? I don’t do feelings.’

  Down at the park at lunchtime our footy training isn’t going well. Ethan is captaining, which means Christian is brooding. I think they’re still having a silent battle over Tara.

  ‘You’re dancers,’ says Ethan. ‘You’ve learnt thousands of complicated steps. Touch football has three.’

  ‘Run, dodge, catch,’ I repeat. I looked them up and memorised them last night.

  Ethan nods.

  ‘And pass,’ adds Christian.

  Ethan grits his teeth.

  ‘Okay, four moves. We can do this! Right!’

  It’s not the greatest of pep talks but it’s better than our actual practice. Every time the ball comes towards me I panic that I’m not going to catch it and then it bounces off my chest or my head.

  Sean, Ethan, Christian and myself are on one side. Sean passes the ball to me. I actually manage to catch it and then pass to Ethan. Christian has a clear run for the line but instead of passing, Ethan goes for the try himself and gets tagged.

  ‘What was that?’ Christian asks.

  ‘The scoreline was open,’ Ethan answers.

  ‘You were hogging the ball.’

  ‘So you didn’t get to be the hero.’

  ‘You’ve always held on too long.’

  I really hope the footballers are stubbing toes, twisting ankles and punching each other out for missing steps because that’s the only way we’re going to win this challenge.

  On the day of the challenge, the footballers go first. They’re wearing the puffy shirts over their footy shorts – not a great look. We pile into the studio to watch and (hopefully) intimidate them. All they have to do is get through the dance, every step, and finish together to pass their part of the challenge.

  When the music starts, it’s not a pretty sight but they’re concentrating. Their footwork would give Miss Raine nightmares for weeks but they are just about keeping it together.

  ‘Their technique sucks. They’ve got zero rhythm,’ Ethan says dismissively.

  ‘That’s not the point. They’re doing all the steps,’ Christian notes.

  The footballers finish. It was ugly, clumsy, but they did the steps and finished together. They passed. We have to score a try or face humiliation.

  We’re first on the football pitch down at the park and Ethan is attempting another pep talk. ‘This is what we’ve trained for. Now is when the sweat and dirt and pain pays off. We are elite athletes in a tough, competitive, physical … ’

  I tune out and glance over at the footballers as they arrive. Leaning on the side fence as a barre, they’re using our dance warm-up exercises to psyche us out. ‘We’re toast,’ I mutter.

  Our first run with the ball is a disaster. First I drop it and then we get tagged within seconds of receiving a pass. It’s the last tag before the first handover and Ethan’s running with the ball, Tim on one side, Christian on the other. Christian calls for the ball but Ethan passes it to Tim who gets tagged by Jai immediately. Handover. They take the ball and seem to know exactly where their teammates are without even looking. Jai can throw the ball into nowhere, somehow knowing Ollie is about to change direction and run there. They’re like a machine. We don’t even come close to tagging them. Ollie’s over the line, scores a try and the massacre has begun.

  It’s the same story over and again – they tag us until handover, switch the ball around between them and score. We’re facing a complete wipe-out. All we need is one try, but at this rate even that looks impossible.

  Ethan calls a time-out and waves Kat over to join in the huddle. She’s been spending a bit of time with the footy players and she may have even given them a few pointers on their dance.

  ‘You know them,’ Ethan says. ‘Tell us what we need to do.’

  ‘I’m not your spy. And you guys are beyond help,’ she answers.

  Christian starts on Ethan. ‘If you’d pass the ball … ’

  ‘If you’d provide a lead …’ he fires back.

  I turn to Kat, pleading with her. She looks at us in disbelief.

  ‘It’s not rocket science. They work together, help each other. You know, like an actual team.’

  We have to do something. Abigail’s turned up with Tara and I can see her giving Jai a smile. I get nothing from her. That’s it. I don’t care what happens, we have to get the ball over the line.

  We’re almost at the end of the game. Tim has the ball. He manages to avoid one tag, but two of their players close in on him and there’s no escape. He’s tagged. It’s our last go with the ball. One more tag and then it’s handover and they’ll easily keep possession until the final whistle. It’s now or never.

  Tim rolls the ball between his legs to Christian. He passes to Sean. Sean draws their defender out and passes to Ethan just in time. My heart sinks. If Ethan holds onto it there’s no way we’ll score. He’s running forward. They’re coming for him and there’s only one person he can pass to.

  ‘Ethan,’ shouts Christian.

  Ethan still doesn’t pass.

  ‘Ethan,’ Christian shouts even louder. Seconds before the tag he launches the ball, it’s a long high pass but it’s good. Christian’s running for the touchline but with Ollie and Jai bearing down on him, he doesn’t stand much chance. I’m on the wing. There’s clear space in front of me. All their players have
been drawn across.

  Christian throws the ball up and across. It flies high in the air towards the sideline. I run, thinking of all the jumps we do in class. It’s what these footballers have come here to learn. I run, leap and catch the ball in a fluid movement. All I have to do now is run. Ollie’s chasing me down but I get over the line in time. Touchdown.

  We’ve done it. I’ve scored a try. The only try I’ve scored in my life. Ethan and Christian run over, hoist me up onto their shoulders with ease and I’m carried off, the hero. Me, the hero!

  We all line up for the team handshakes. They take their training jumpers off to swap for our Academy T-shirts.

  Of all the players to come up to me to swap, Jai stands there holding his shirt out. Part of me wants to thump him for the look he shared with Abigail, but he’s insistent. He holds it out and I’m feeling generous in victory. I take my shirt off and give it to him.

  ‘Can I get your phone number, too?’ he says.

  I’m looking over at Abigail so his words don’t really register.

  ‘Huh, why?’ I ask.

  ‘Thought we could hang. See a movie or something.’

  It takes me a moment to realise what he means. All that time he was awkward in front of Abigail, it was because of me. I was the one making him nervous. I almost wish … It would turn the tables on Abigail, but no.

  ‘Ohhhhh right,’ I say.

  ‘You’re not interested?’

  ‘Not available. Sorry.’

  That does it. Enough with the secrecy. It’s time I man up and take control. I march over to Abigail, pull her to me and grab a kiss for all the world to see. And she kisses me back.

  CHAPTER 8

  I am the man. The ice queen has melted and she’s melted for me. Abigail is kissing me in public – at the café, in the corridor, on the wharf, everywhere. She even asks for an Eskimo kiss at the start of Patrick’s class.

  We’re all excited and nervous because the showcase for the Academy’s Board of Directors is coming up. In years to come these will be the people who decide whether we get into the Company. You have to take every opportunity you can to impress them.

  We’re doing final rehearsal for our hip-hop performance and I am totally rocking it.

  ‘Where did that come from?’ Our teacher shows me some serious respect. ‘They are going to be in awe, man.’

  That’s a massive A plus in hip-hop, an A plus plus in the girlfriend stakes, but unfortunately I’m still only a B in ballet. For the showcase all I’m getting to do is understudy Sean. I want to make sure I’m perfect in case the need arises, but Miss Raine ends the ballet class without rehearsing the understudies.

  ‘But we’re not finished yet,’ I say.

  Miss Raine raises that scary eyebrow of hers.

  ‘The understudies haven’t run it through,’ I add.

  She’s still not impressed. ‘Are you across the choreography, Sean?’ she asks. He is. ‘You have a DVD and twenty-four hours,’ she says to me. ‘Make good use of it.’

  In the studio that evening I’m rehearsing with Abigail. She’s doing a duet with Tara in the showcase so the competition is on – even more than it normally is. I help her by dancing Tara’s part. Abigail is dancing really well – finally moving beyond technical perfection, like she’s feeling the emotion in the dance, not simply recreating the moves perfectly.

  After we finish her part I ask her to watch my solo.

  ‘I’m not an authority on hip-hop,’ she says.

  ‘Ballet. I want your honest appraisal.’

  ‘My honest appraisal is that you don’t have a ballet solo.’

  I know I’m ‘only’ the understudy but I still want to prove myself.

  ‘Tomorrow’s rehearsal is my last chance to show Miss Raine I’m more than just an understudy. So when she’s casting again she’ll know what I can do.’

  ‘She’s been teaching you all year. You should probably accept where she’s put you.’

  I can’t believe that Abigail, Little Miss I’ll-dance-until-I-bleed-to-get-it-right, is telling me not to try.

  Then she tells me, ‘There’s nothing wrong with being an understudy.’

  ‘For me, you mean.’

  There’s no way she’d accept being an understudy. I walk off. I’m not hanging round to be insulted by my girlfriend.

  ‘You told me to be honest. How am I the bad guy?’ I hear her ask as I storm out.

  On the morning of the showcase, Kat and I are fooling around. She’s teasing me about my ‘relaaationship’. I’m protesting but I love it really.

  Miss Raine is passing and gives us copies of the program to distribute. When we look at it, there’s something missing.

  ‘Miss Raine, hip-hop’s been left off the program,’ says Kat.

  ‘No, the list is right. Jazz is gone, too,’ she tells us. ‘The Board has been meeting all morning about the curriculum. Given most of them don’t think the Academy should be offering those classes, it was considered best to remove them from the showcase.’

  Kat’s amazed. ‘That’s not fair!’

  ‘It’s the only time some of us are dancing,’ I add. Short of Sean mysteriously falling off the wharf into the harbour and being swept out to sea by a freak wave, I won’t appear in front of the Board at all.

  Miss Raine is unmoved by my lack of star billing. ‘If I were you I’d take it up with someone who’s actually on the Board,’ she says as she charges off.

  Later at the café, I’ve been reduced to throwing a ball against a wall and eating chunks of cake in between catching it. I’m considering taking it up as a sport. It’s not like I’ve got any dancing to be getting on with any more.

  Kat comes up to me. ‘It’s time for action,’ she says.

  Whatever she’s planning, I’m in. I didn’t spend months in pointe shoes strengthening my ankles for ball bouncing.

  The rehearsal studio has been transformed into a performance space for the showcase. Before it starts, Board members and some of the school’s patrons are sipping wine and mingling with the older students. Kat’s determined that the one part of dance she really loves won’t be lost. I don’t want to be reduced to ‘mingling’ to get noticed by the Board. It’s time for her plan.

  I know this could get us into serious trouble but it’s worth it. I’m not understudy material. I go to the sound system while Kat takes the microphone and stands on a chair.

  A quick blast of feedback silences the room and Kat speaks. ‘Proceedings are starting a little earlier today. Keep enjoying your drinks, but if you can take your seats, please.’

  The audience members do as they’re told. Miss Raine looks over at Mr Kennedy who has no idea what’s going on. I gulp. If we’re going to pull this off, we need to be absolutely brilliant.

  ‘Kat, is there something you wanted to share with us?’ Mr Kennedy asks.

  ‘Yes, sir. The Board, in its wisdom, has decided to cut hip-hop and jazz. They’re getting rid of pretty much anything other than classical.’

  A few students in the audience boo the decision. Kat’s mum, the legendary Natasha Willis, isn’t impressed, but Kat’s not out to impress her.

  ‘Some of the first years have worked hard on this piece and we’d like to show it to you anyway.’

  She gives me the signal to start the music but I can’t find the right button. My heart jumps. We’re taking a massive risk here and I could ruin it all by not pressing play. As I fumble around, Kat’s mother asks her to get down from the chair.

  ‘Not a chance.’

  Finally the music kicks in. I join Kat and half our class on the stage. I can see Abigail in the audience. She’s frozen, too focused on doing what the Board wants to move. She’s not that bothered about hip-hop anyway. We perform our routine. The students in the audience are whooping. They’re enjoying it, even if the Board members aren’t.

  When it comes to Kat’s solo she just skips it. I don’t know why. Suddenly she’s nervous. I get the hand slap – she’s handing over
to me. This is my chance. There’s no point in doing this and then limping through the performance. It’s got to be all or nothing so I bust my moves as hard as I can. The students cheer. They’re impressed. I think I can even see a couple of Board members smiling. We put on a good show.

  Backstage we’re feeling pumped. The other students are patting me on the back, congratulating me. Abigail’s watching. She should have joined in.

  Miss Raine sweeps into the backstage area with a controlled glower. ‘We’re bringing the first-year ballet forward. We need to demonstrate a modicum of professionalism to the Board,’ she announces.

  ‘But Tara’s not here,’ Abigail announces.

  We’ve no idea where she is. Kat and I made her take the afternoon off as she had a serious case of ballet fever: obsessing so much she made Abigail look half-hearted. She took off on a ferry to the beach. It seemed like a good idea, but I can’t believe Tara would forget to come back in time for the showcase.

  ‘You’ll have to do it as a solo,’ Miss Raine tells Abigail. ‘You’re always asking me for one.’

  ‘It’s better as a duet,’ Abigail says. ‘Sammy knows it.’

  ‘Do you?’ Miss Raine interrogates me for the truth.

  I can’t believe Abigail would do this for me. She lives for solo performances.

  ‘Sure. Understudy’s duty.’ I know I can do it. I’ve rehearsed it with Abigail enough.

  ‘You all have five minutes to get ready. Please don’t disappoint me further.’

  Everyone springs into action to get ready.

  I look at Abigail. ‘Are you trying to make me feel better? Cos I don’t need pity.’

  ‘By now you really should know I don’t look after other people’s feelings. Even if they are my boyfriend’s.’

  ‘Then why are you doing this?’

  ‘Because you’re good.’

  I’m still reeling from the use of the B word. Now she’s complimenting my dancing.

  ‘I wouldn’t go out there with you if you weren’t,’ she adds.

  We dance. We dance wonderfully. There’s a connection that Abigail would never have had with Tara onstage. It’s the same duet but we’ve transformed it into a love story. Even Miss Raine smiles, relieved that I haven’t stuffed it up.