Pirouette (12 page)

twenty-seven

Hannah pulled on Simone's flesh-colored tights and maroon leotard and threw a sundress on top. Then she rolled up the tights and slipped her feet into a pair of sneakers, as open-toed shoes were against school rules. She stood at Simone's mirror and fixed her hair. Now she looked the part of a full-time dance student.

It was Wednesday, her first full day at the VSD. The day before had been an odd one. She'd met her academic teachers and somehow survived a minefield of strangers. Today, though, she'd have to prove herself in the studio.

Harriet was squeezing oranges in the kitchen, and Hannah's hand trembled as she helped herself to a glass of juice.

“Simone, are you okay?”

Hannah nodded. “I'm always a bit nervous the first day of dance.” She gulped down the juice and a serving of cereal, then stacked her bowl and glass in the dishwasher and said a hurried goodbye.

When she reached the VSD, Hannah's heart was hammering. Jess was already in the studio, pulling one leg back behind her and over her head. Beside her, Julie too was limbering up, pointing and flexing one foot at a time.

Hannah joined them and they exchanged greetings. Then, with one hand positioned lightly on the barre, she stood on her supporting leg and swung the other forward and back, forward and back. She counted to twenty, then turned to repeat the exercise with the other leg.

“How come we're only girls in this class?” Julie asked, looking around.

“We have separate classes for ballet,” Jess explained. “Except on Fridays. But we're with the guys for all the other dance styles, as well as for
repertoire and pas-de-deux. I'm so glad we've got Miss Sabto for ballet again,” she continued.

“What's she like?” Julie asked, just as a tall redhead entered the studio. “Oh, is that her?”

“No,” said Jess, “that's Miss Grunwald. She's the—”

“Pianist,” Hannah guessed, as Miss Grunwald crossed the room toward the piano.

All the dancers fell silent as a small, thin woman appeared in the doorway, and with an air of authority that belied her size, strode to the front of the studio and addressed the class. “Good morning, girls. Before we begin, is there anyone new this year?”

Julie timidly raised her hand.

“Ah, yes, I remember your audition tape. You're the one from out of state. Have you met all your classmates?”

Julie nodded.

“Excellent! Then let's begin. I trust you've all been stretching over the holidays?”

There were nods and murmurs of assent all round.

“Good, then you shouldn't be too stiff. Still, as it's your first week back, we won't do anything too strenuous. Let me see two
demi pliés
with arms
à la seconde
and a
grand plié
bringing the arms to fifth.” She nodded to Miss Grunwald, who began to play.

Rippling music filled the air and Hannah was swept along in its ebb and flow, allowing it to guide her to the heart of the movement.

As the dancers performed one barre exercise after another, Miss Sabto walked around the room, giving an occasional compliment or correcting her pupils.

“Nice work, Jess. Alison, those
tendus
are lazy. Push through the feet. Use the floor.”

Hannah managed to escape comment until she began her
grand battements
. Then, under Miss Sabto's scrutiny, she felt herself trembling.

“A bit rusty, are you?” said the teacher.

Hannah nodded.

“Well, at least you're nice and supple,” said Miss Sabto. “But don't cheat, Simone. Focus on alignment, not height. Let me see those
grand battements
again, and this time, don't throw your hip out.”

“And now, an important announcement,” Miss Sabto said at the end of the lesson. “The Bollywood dance we did last year was so well received that we've been asked to perform it at this year's Dance Spectacular. We only have a month to prepare, so we'll start to brush up on it next week.”

Whooping and cheering, the dancers high-fived each other as they left the studio, thrilled at the chance to take part in the annual event that featured a range of dances performed by students from schools across Australia.

“Simone and Julie,” called Miss Sabto, “I'd like to have a chat with you before you leave.”

Hannah made her way toward the teacher, wondering what it was she'd already done wrong.

“Mr. Collins suggested you take Julie under your wing,” Miss Sabto began, “and I think that's a really good idea.”

Hannah exhaled slowly, relieved to know she wasn't in trouble.

Miss Sabto smiled at Julie, who was chewing a nail. “We have a buddy system,” she explained, “and you won't find a better buddy than Simone. She's been here since Year Seven, and she knows the ropes.” She turned to Hannah. “To start with, I'd like you to teach Julie the dance so she can perform it with the rest of you.”

Already warm from class, Hannah felt herself break into a sweat. “The … uh, dance?” she said, stalling for time.

“The Bollywood dance,” Miss Sabto said.

For a second, Hannah toyed with the idea of saying she'd forgotten it, but then she nodded.

“I suggest you get started on it as soon as possible. The quicker Julie learns it, the more polished she'll be. Here's a copy of the music,” said Miss Sabto, handing Hannah a CD. “Studio 4 is always open for private practice.”

After Miss Sabto had left the room, Julie gave Hannah a tentative smile. “I'm free at lunchtime,” she said. “Or if you like, I could stay after school.”

“This is a … really busy week for me,” Hannah said. “Could we leave it till Monday?”

“I guess,” said Julie, sagging a little.

“I'm really sorry,” Hannah added.

“That's okay. I understand.”

Hannah stared at the half-eaten peach in her hand, wondering just how she'd teach Julie a dance she'd never seen. She'd thought of asking Jess to go over it with her, but Jess would undoubtedly ask why she'd forgotten a dance she'd performed so many times.

At least she'd had the foresight to tell Julie she'd have to postpone it. Maybe Simone could run through it with her on the weekend. They'd have to find some way to meet up …

“Are you going to eat that,” asked Jess, “or are you planning to just stare at it?”

Hannah sighed, resigning herself to the fact that she couldn't make any decisions until she'd talked to Simone.

“I hope,” said Jess, her expression probing, “that you haven't changed your mind again about your dancing. You do want to be here?”

Hannah nodded. “More than ever.”

Jess let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, that's a relief.”

For a moment, Hannah forgot her dilemma as Matthew Holden crossed the courtyard. With his gray-blue eyes and sandy hair, he was easily the cutest guy in Year Ten if not all of the VSD. She perked up at the sight of him. She'd only spoken to him once or twice, but he seemed very friendly.

“You know,” Jess was saying, “I never told you this, but you were so depressed at the end of last year I was really worried about you.”

Matt was getting closer now. In a few seconds, he'd walk right by them.

“At one point,” Jess continued, “I even thought about asking my mum to talk to yours about how unhappy you were. And some of the kids were taking bets on when you'd quit.” She grabbed Matt's arm as he was passing. “Weren't they, Matt?”

“Sorry, what?”

“Last year,” Jess repeated, “weren't some kids taking bets on when Simone would give up dancing?”

“Yeah,” Matt said. He stopped and looked Hannah straight in the eye. “I'm glad you didn't.”

“Really?” said Hannah. Buoyed by his interest, she flashed him a smile.

“Yeah,
really
. Not that I should have cared one way or the other,” he added. “It's not like you ever gave me the time of day.”

“Didn't I?”

“You know you didn't.”

“Uh … sorry?”

Matt laughed. “You know, you're different this year … ”

“Different how?”

“Well, don't take this the wrong way, but you used to be … a bit of a snob. You're friendlier now.” He coughed with embarrassment. “Anyway, see you in hip-hop.”

After he left, Hannah gazed after him, wondering why Simone had never mentioned this gorgeous guy. Had Simone really been unfriendly to him?

“You know, he's right,” said Jess. “There
is
something different about you … ”

Hannah changed the subject. “Do you think he likes me?”

“You'd have to be blind and deaf to ask. Matt's had a crush on you for years. Almost as long as Mitch has had a crush on him.”

twenty-eight

It was Simone's second day at Carmel College, and she and Dani were just entering the school building after lunch when she almost collided with a short, balding man with horn-rimmed glasses. He had begun to mutter an apology when recognition dawned on his face, and he growled at her in a foreign language. Simone stared at him blankly.

The man went red in the face and spoke again. This time Dani replied in the same guttural language, which sounded as if she was clearing her throat. She seemed embarrassed and gave Simone's arm a little tug.

Simone shrugged an apology, feeling sheepish. “Sorry,” she said, her voice small.

The man grunted and went outside.

“Jeez, Hannah,” Dani said, after he'd gone. “Why didn't you answer Mr. Aaronson? That was really rude.”

Simone turned to Dani in despair. “I … my mind was miles away. I just … didn't hear a thing he said.”

“He asked you why you dropped Hebrew and you completely ignored him.”

“Did I? Oh, God!”

“What is it, Hannah? What's on your mind?”

Simone shook her head. “Nothing. I just … ”

“You must have been thinking about
something
,” said Dani.

Simone stared off into the distance. “There's this guy I met at Candance,” she said at last, picturing Tom.

“Ah, now you're talking.”

“He was pretty cute,” said Simone, “and he … ” She broke off suddenly. “I don't know why I'm telling you this. It's not like I'll ever see him again.”

Mr. Field was right. Madame Brun was not happy to discover that another student had joined her class. She cast a grim eye over Simone as she took the roll.

“Why do you want to study French?
Pourquoi?
Your marks last year are not so good.”

“My mother wanted me to drop French and study He-brew,” Simone said, in far better French than Hannah could have. “But I finally managed to convince her to let me do French. I think French is a beautiful language.”

Groans and sniggers erupted around the classroom, but Simone sounded so well-spoken and sincere that Madame Brun beamed with approval. “
Oui, c'est vraiment une belle langue
. And what beautiful French you have,
ma cherie
.”

“
Merci,
Madame Brun. I practiced a lot over the holidays.”

Despite having made an ally of Madame Brun, it was hard to get through the rest of the day when the visit to the dentist loomed. Whenever Simone thought about it, a chill ran through her. If only she'd talked Vanessa into canceling …

But the dreaded appointment arrived, and now Simone reclined in the dental chair, mouth open, while Dr. Johnson prodded and probed.

“Fischer seal needs replacing,” he said at last, “and put a watch on 5.”

The dental nurse flipped through a pile of papers. “That's odd,” she said.

“What is?” asked Dr. Johnson.

“According to Hannah's file, you filled that tooth in March last year, and the Fisher seal was replaced in September.”

“Let me see that.” Simone closed her mouth while Dr. Johnson studied the file. For a few long seconds all was quiet save for the low hum of the fluorescent lights and the tinny background noise of the radio.

“Someone's messed up,” said Dr. Johnson. “This isn't her file.”

“But there's her name,” the nurse said, sounding flustered, “and we're always so meticulous with our records … ”

“Not this time,” said Dr. Johnson. “Files are subject to human error. Teeth, on the other hand, never lie.”

“I don't see how this could have happened … ”

Dr. Johnson lowered his voice. “Someone must have mixed up Hannah's file with somebody else's.”

The smell of alcoholic disinfectant was suddenly nauseating, and Simone wished she could run away and disappear.

“If this gets out,” the dentist told the nurse through gritted teeth, “the reputation of this clinic will be completely ruined.”

“I realize that.” The dental nurse sounded more frantic by the second. “But I honestly don't know—”

“It may have even been deliberate,” Dr. Johnson was saying. “Someone's warped idea of a joke. Who's had access to these files?”

“I've no id … Wait,” said the nurse, “it must have been that student nurse who was here last year.”

“Well,” said the dentist, “make damn sure she never comes back. And from now on,” he instructed the nurse, “don't let anyone near those files.” He moved back into Simone's line of vision to continue the checkup.

“Sorry about that,” he said to Simone, his voice falsely cheerful. “I'll just give your teeth a clean before you leave.”

Back in the waiting room, Vanessa was flipping through a magazine when Simone stepped out of the exam room, followed closely by Dr. Johnson. He called Vanessa over to them and spoke in a tone too low to be overheard. “I thought I should let you know myself that there was a slight mix-up with Hannah's file. But not to worry, it's all been sorted. She'll need another appointment in a month or so.”

“Did he find new cavities?” Vanessa asked Simone after the dentist had gone.

“No. He just wants to replace my Fischer seal.”

“Really? Didn't you have that done last … no, no, that must have been Adam.”

As soon as dinner was over, Simone escaped to her room. The “mix-up” at the dentist had left her feeling inwardly shaken. This time, she and Hannah had somehow managed to get away with it, but next time they might not be so lucky.

“I swear my heart was in my mouth,” she said when Hannah called, “and I—”

“Don't worry about it,” Hannah interrupted. “It worked out, didn't it?”

“I guess, but—”

“Listen, Sim.” Hannah launched into a garbled story about having to teach some new girl a dance. “I don't see why she had to pick
me
, out of a whole class full of people who could have taught her.”

“Okay, calm down,” said Simone. “Which dance is it?”

“The Bollywood one. Do you know it?”

“Of course.” It was a fast, tricky dance, full of classical leaps interspersed with traditional Bollywood moves: flexed feet, isolated head movements, thrusting hips, and intricate handwork. Simone had enjoyed it, although the teacher kept changing the choreography and it had taken weeks to learn it.

“Can you teach me?” Hannah asked.

“I guess, but—”

“Brilliant,” said Hannah. “How about Sunday?”

“Where?”

“The botanical gardens?” Hannah suggested.

“What if it rains?”

“What choice do we have?”

They arranged to meet outside the kiosk in the botanical gardens, at two o'clock.