Rhythm and Blues Read Online Free PDF Page B

turns.
    Sorry, girls. I didn’t want to be mean toanyone. But with my beloved dancing taken away from me, this was what I had to focus on. I had a job to do. And unlike my ankle, I was determined not to stuff it up.

Chapter Eleven
    I headed straight back into the studio after school the next day. It was Friday and only the seniors had lessons that afternoon. I tried to help Miss Caroline in jazz class, but I wasn’t really needed. All the seniors had been dancing and taking exams for a long time and there wasn’t much my ten-year-old self could teach them.
    Eventually, I left the studio to have a wander around Silver Shoes and stretch my legs.It had been a week exactly since I’d sprained my ankle, and although I knew it wasn’t 100 per cent healed, it did feel a little better. Just enough to give me hope.
    I really missed dancing. My head felt all busy and my heart a bit too full when I couldn’t dance. I was desperate to get back out on the floor and just loosen up and work off some energy.
    In the drama studio – which is the old church hall recently connected to Silver Shoes by an undercover walkway – Paige and her ballroom partner, Benji, were practising for their next competition.
    I watched them through the window in the door. They were doing a fast-paced boppy dance, I think it might have been the jive, and Benji was twirling Paige round and round. They were both laughing so much they almost couldn’t dance, and Paige’s cheeks were abright rosy red. Her bun, which was normally hairsprayed within an inch of its life, had come loose and her hair was flying out around her face.
    She looked so cute and happy, and something burned in my chest at the thought of making her upset yesterday.
    I knocked on the window, just a small tap.
    Both Benji and Paige stopped and looked over at the door. Benji gave me the thumbs-up straightaway, but Paige took a step back and nervously brushed some hair off her face. I smiled my friendliest smile and gave her a little wave. After a second she smiled and waved back, and it was like the tide had come in and put out the little fire burning in my chest.
    Then the ballroom teacher’s face loomed out at me from the other side of the door. Everyone knew you didn’t mess with Fleur.I quickly turned on my crutch and hobbled away.
    Studio two was empty, so I let myself in and came to a stop in front of the mirror. I stared at myself. Still the same Riley. Long legs, two braids, coffee-coloured skin. Puffy ankle.
    I dropped the crutch beside me and pushed it away with my good foot.
    Then I held myself in the starting position for the routine of the lyrical exam. I needed to practise, or at least step through it, to keep it fresh in my head, and to apply the corrections Miss Caroline had given us yesterday.

    Also, I just wanted to feel a bit of the happiness and lightness dancing gave me. I knew I was giving Mr Grumpy a run for his money in the attitude department this week.
    So, starting position – left arm extended, opposite leg stretched behind. Easy enough. Bend the knee, change the arms, lean forward,gently raise the back leg into développé. Still fine, because all my weight was on my good leg and my sprained ankle was the one up in the air.
    But of course in the next move I had to step back onto my bad ankle and do a chaine chassé turn followed by two soutenus.
    My ankle wasn’t having any of that.
    That’s fine , I said to myself, you haven’t warmed up yet.
    So I did a slow set of relevés and pliés, and by slow, I mean very slow. Like, a snail could have done them quicker (if they had feet). Then I did a few tendus, dégagés and ankle rolls, carefully working through my injured ankle, stopping the range of motion or shifting the weight as soon as I felt a twinge or a pull where I shouldn’t.
    After that I moved to the corner and tried some simple travelling steps. My ankle felta