Read Online Step Up and Dance by Thalia Kalipsakis - Free Book Online Page A

keep you safe.’
    A child? Now I started sipping too. Not tasting, but doing something – anything – to stop myself from answering back. A child? Would he still say that if he had seen me dancing tonight? The curve of my chest as I arched back. The smooth roll of my hips. The look in my eye. Would he still call me a child if he had seen all that?
    â€˜Okay. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.’ My voice sounded surprisingly calm.
    A stunned look from Dad. Mum turned from the sandwich maker to peer at me.
    â€˜I’m going to bed now.’ A kiss on two foreheads. A calm exit from the room. Because I knew I had won.
    A child? A child would pout and cry and argue back. A child would storm into her room and slam the door. A child wouldn’t apologise like I had.
    Feeling numb, I stood in front of my mirror, staring at my face. I felt like the little tot who had marvelled at her own legs in tights. My face was thinner these days, and wiser. At the Magic games I pass for eighteen.
    Into bed I climbed – slow and calm – because I knew I had won. I wasn’t a child. After tonight, I wasn’t Dad’s little girl anymore.

CHAPTER 6
    â€˜Go Saph! Go Saph! Go Saph!’
    On Wednesday lunchtime, I headed for the basketball courts with my own personal cheerleader by my side. Summer was eating a hotdog and chanting with her mouth full – a tad disgusting. But Summer seems to get away with things like that.
    I was in full freak-out mode. Last week the idea of playing basketball seemed almost fitting. (Basketball, eh? I’d show them how to play basketball!) But today it felt about as good an idea as flirting with someone in the crowd while trying to dance. This was surely going to end in another beetroot moment.
    I stopped at the edge of the court. ‘Omigod, save me, Summer.’
    Three gigantic Year 11 girls were running in circles around the court, throwing and catching with ease. The ball made a dull thudding sound in their hands. I knew two of the other girls from my year level – both of them dreamed of playing for the WNBL. Faith was pretty cool, but Brooke was one of those aggressive sporty girls. The kind who eats cheerleaders for breakfast.
    Summer flicked her hair and giggled. ‘Go get ’em, Saph!’
    â€˜You don’t have to watch this,’ I said, feeling slightly sick and still not moving from the side of the basketball court.
    â€˜Wouldn’t miss it for the world!’ Summer headed for a bench and settled in as if she was sitting down at the movies.
    I watched the girls and sighed. Was I really going to do this?
    We were at the end of a set of three basketball courts. The middle one was pretty much empty. But on the other end court I could see two people playing one-on-one. One was short and stocky. But the other had long limbs and a red cap – the uniform of the enemy. And if I could see Jay, then he could see me . . .
    Yep, I really was going to do this.
    â€˜Hi, Saph,’ called Mr Sandown and ticked something on his clipboard. ‘Fall into line and copy the others.’
    With a premature beetrooty feeling in my cheeks, I skipped daintily into line behind Faith.
    She glanced down at me. (Faith’s really tall.) ‘What’s this all about? Do you have a crush on one of the basketballers or something?’
    â€˜More like “or something”,’ I said, and raised my eyebrows.
    But at least Faith had spoken to me. The others just frowned in my general direction as if to say who invited the bimbo?
    In front of me, Faith caught the ball, dribbled, then passed to another player.
    I ran forward. Okay, let’s do it.
    As the Year 11 girl dribbled forward, I waited and held out my arms. Time for a bit of catchy . . .
    Whoosh! Before I knew it, a cannonball was flying straight for me. I lunged and reached.
    Thwack . The cannonball hit me hard in the chest. My left breast to be exact. The ball fell at my