Read Online Dance Academy Anywhere but Here by Bruno Bouchet - Free Book Online
Authors: Bruno Bouchet
Ads: Link
watching boys fight over Tara?
Then Patrick sends me ‘onstage’ to stop the fight. I drag Tara away from the boys and our characters are supposed to be having our own fight in the background.
‘I don’t get it,’ Tara says under her breath. ‘I hurt Ethan, not you.’
‘That’s only part of it,’ I reply.
‘Then what’s the rest of it? Is it Christian? Do you …’
‘No. You’re welcome to each other.’
Patrick calls Tara and me back to centre stage and asks for ‘some energy’. We’ve got plenty of that.
‘You have everything. And you rub it in my face,’ I jab at her while Sean and Christian hold us apart.
‘Good, Kat,’ says Patrick as the boys put us down.
‘I’m so over that self-righteous attitude,’ says Tara.
‘I am not self-righteous,’ I hiss.
‘Your problems aren’t real. They just happen in your head.’
How dare she say that! I shove her and she falls down. Tara grabs my ankle and pulls me down to the ground. The fight is on.
I can hear Patrick telling us to stay with the choreography, but we’re beyond character now. This is real. We fight on the ground – pushing, shoving, pulling hair. To be honest I’ve no idea how to fight and I don’t think Tara does either. In the blur of screams, hands and hair we roll ourselves into a puddle and coat ourselves in mud.
The music stops and Patrick charges over, ‘Enough. Stand up. Katrina, you are on probation and skating on very thin ice. And Tara, we gave you a scholarship for a reason. This is no way to repay us.’ He sends us to the showers to get washed and asks Petra to supervise.
The showers are primitive – two bags of water above our heads with tubes leading out and a canvas sheet forming a wall that only comes to shoulder height. We’re basically standing next to each other, so can easily continue the argument from the mud bath we just took.
‘You forgot my birthday,’ I remind Tara as I try to rinse gum leaves from my hair.
‘You left me stranded at the gig so you could go off with Lucas,’ she says, scrubbing mud off her shoulder.
‘He was my boyfriend,’ I say. ‘All you did was judge him.’
‘And how did that boyfriend work out for you, Kat?’
‘I can’t believe you’re bringing that up now! Bottom line is that I needed you and you weren’t there.’
‘Actually,’ Petra interrupts us, ‘the bottom line is that I’m sick of both of you. We all are.’
We’ve been so busy arguing that we’ve barely even noticed that she’s there with all our clothes in her arms.
‘So I’m taking these hostage,’ she says and walks off, stranding us naked in the showers.
Tara and I stand there, mouths open.
‘Now look what you’ve done!’ I say.
‘What I’ve done!’ Tara gasps and then asks, ‘What are we supposed to do now?’
‘I don’t know about you, but I’m wrapping this canvas sheet around me and hunting down some clothes,’ I say.
‘And leave me totally exposed. That’s low even for you,’ Tara complains.
‘Fine, we’ll share,’ I growl as I start dismantling the shower walls. She doesn’t move. ‘You could at least help me undo the ties!’ I tell her and she finally starts making an effort. We undo the knots and wrap the canvas wall around ourselves and try walking back to the tents.
‘Ow, you’re stepping on my foot!’ Tara complains.
‘I need more room,’ I say and pull the canvas towards me.
‘There isn’t more room,’ Tara growls and pulls it back towards her. That sends us off balance and we start to wobble.
‘Core muscles!’ we both shout. It’s the catchphrase Miss Raine uses whenever someone wobbles in her class.
We steady ourselves and manage to inch over to the nearest tents. Unfortunately we’ve shuffled to theboys’ camp. At this point I don’t care. All we need is some clothes. I lead us, hopping, to the nearest tent. The flaps are open to air it out. It needs airing – one sniff of a T-shirt thrown on the ground and I can tell
Then Patrick sends me ‘onstage’ to stop the fight. I drag Tara away from the boys and our characters are supposed to be having our own fight in the background.
‘I don’t get it,’ Tara says under her breath. ‘I hurt Ethan, not you.’
‘That’s only part of it,’ I reply.
‘Then what’s the rest of it? Is it Christian? Do you …’
‘No. You’re welcome to each other.’
Patrick calls Tara and me back to centre stage and asks for ‘some energy’. We’ve got plenty of that.
‘You have everything. And you rub it in my face,’ I jab at her while Sean and Christian hold us apart.
‘Good, Kat,’ says Patrick as the boys put us down.
‘I’m so over that self-righteous attitude,’ says Tara.
‘I am not self-righteous,’ I hiss.
‘Your problems aren’t real. They just happen in your head.’
How dare she say that! I shove her and she falls down. Tara grabs my ankle and pulls me down to the ground. The fight is on.
I can hear Patrick telling us to stay with the choreography, but we’re beyond character now. This is real. We fight on the ground – pushing, shoving, pulling hair. To be honest I’ve no idea how to fight and I don’t think Tara does either. In the blur of screams, hands and hair we roll ourselves into a puddle and coat ourselves in mud.
The music stops and Patrick charges over, ‘Enough. Stand up. Katrina, you are on probation and skating on very thin ice. And Tara, we gave you a scholarship for a reason. This is no way to repay us.’ He sends us to the showers to get washed and asks Petra to supervise.
The showers are primitive – two bags of water above our heads with tubes leading out and a canvas sheet forming a wall that only comes to shoulder height. We’re basically standing next to each other, so can easily continue the argument from the mud bath we just took.
‘You forgot my birthday,’ I remind Tara as I try to rinse gum leaves from my hair.
‘You left me stranded at the gig so you could go off with Lucas,’ she says, scrubbing mud off her shoulder.
‘He was my boyfriend,’ I say. ‘All you did was judge him.’
‘And how did that boyfriend work out for you, Kat?’
‘I can’t believe you’re bringing that up now! Bottom line is that I needed you and you weren’t there.’
‘Actually,’ Petra interrupts us, ‘the bottom line is that I’m sick of both of you. We all are.’
We’ve been so busy arguing that we’ve barely even noticed that she’s there with all our clothes in her arms.
‘So I’m taking these hostage,’ she says and walks off, stranding us naked in the showers.
Tara and I stand there, mouths open.
‘Now look what you’ve done!’ I say.
‘What I’ve done!’ Tara gasps and then asks, ‘What are we supposed to do now?’
‘I don’t know about you, but I’m wrapping this canvas sheet around me and hunting down some clothes,’ I say.
‘And leave me totally exposed. That’s low even for you,’ Tara complains.
‘Fine, we’ll share,’ I growl as I start dismantling the shower walls. She doesn’t move. ‘You could at least help me undo the ties!’ I tell her and she finally starts making an effort. We undo the knots and wrap the canvas wall around ourselves and try walking back to the tents.
‘Ow, you’re stepping on my foot!’ Tara complains.
‘I need more room,’ I say and pull the canvas towards me.
‘There isn’t more room,’ Tara growls and pulls it back towards her. That sends us off balance and we start to wobble.
‘Core muscles!’ we both shout. It’s the catchphrase Miss Raine uses whenever someone wobbles in her class.
We steady ourselves and manage to inch over to the nearest tents. Unfortunately we’ve shuffled to theboys’ camp. At this point I don’t care. All we need is some clothes. I lead us, hopping, to the nearest tent. The flaps are open to air it out. It needs airing – one sniff of a T-shirt thrown on the ground and I can tell
Similar Books
