One Perfect Pirouette by Sherryl Clark

was trespassing. Was it worth it? I thought of the wooden floor and all that space. Yes, it was worth it.
    The window was still unlocked, but stiff, and it took me several minutes and a broken fingernail to get it open wide enough to crawl through. My feet scrabbled up the wall as I hauled myself through, headfirst, and grabbed the side of the cubicle to help me the rest of the way, hauling my backpack after me. There! I was in. The palm of my hand stung where I’d scraped it and my heart boomed in my ears, but I pulled the window closed and waited a couple of long minutes to make sure no one had seen me and was coming to check.
    The hall was darker than I expected, but at least the gym mats and chairs were still all stacked to one side. I changed into my ballet shoes, tied the ribbons and warmed up before fetching a chair to be my barre. It wasn’t easy doing the exercises without a mirror to check that my arms and legs were correct, but I’d spent a lot of time back home in front of the mirror until I was sure I could do it on my own. I’d even had photos on the wall next to me for comparison.
    The rhythm of the battement frappe soothed me and I focused completely, moving on to the leg movements that worked my hips and strengthened everything from tummy to toe. In the centre, it was so tempting to start pirouettes and jumps, but I stuck to my routine and felt my arms and legs stretch and ache.
    By the time I got to pirouettes, the hall was so dark I could hardly see the mats on the floor, so I stayed near the glass doors at the front. The warm-up was vital because, to be honest, I sucked at pirouettes. I could do one or two okay, but then something went wrong and my eyes would swing away and I’d get off balance. This was why I had to keep sneaking into the hall – I had to have the extra floor room to get them right. What if the audition involved pirouettes? Balance was so important.
    I had to work harder and harder, had to be able to pirouette all the way across the hall without overbalancing. Sweat soaked my T-shirt and I alternated the pirouettes with small jumps, but after half an hour, I still couldn’t do more than three without teetering and toppling. I stood in the centre, breathing hard, eyes closed, visualising a perfect sequence of pirouettes. Why couldn’t I do it? I wanted to scream. My eyes popped open. The hall was pitch dark. What was the time?
    Six o’clock! Mum and Dad would be searching the streets for me. I had to run. I caught my T-shirt on the window lock and heard a ripping noise as I dropped to the ground. With the window shut, I bolted from the school grounds, praying that maybe they were late home from work and hadn’t noticed I wasn’t there. By the time I reached our street, my chest burned and I was sucking in great gasping breaths. Please, let them be late home, please let them not notice me missing.
    It wasn’t going to happen. All the lights in our house were blazing and Dad stood on the front steps with a torch, about to come looking for me.
    â€˜Where the hell have you been?’ he exploded when he caught sight of me.
    â€˜I’m sorry, Dad, really, I was at school.’
    â€˜Doing what? School finishes at three.’
    â€˜I was dancing in the hall.’
    â€˜Why didn’t the teacher let us know?’
    â€˜Because … I was on my own, you know, like I used to be at the scout hall.’
    â€˜Brynna –’ He took a deep breath and put the torch down on the railing. ‘This is not the country, for god’s sake. We don’t know this neighbourhood and it’s not the same as back home. It’s dangerous after dark, for anyone, let alone a kid your age.’
    â€˜I know,’ I said, my voice small, my hands tucked under my arms. ‘I just needed to practise, and there’s nowhere else.’
    Mum rushed out the front door and grabbed me. ‘You’re safe!’ She hugged me, then