Rhythm and Blues by Samantha-Ellen Bound

life revolved around having this stupid ankle injury and I didn’t remember anything before it.
    But it sounded correct and I stood by my decision.

Chapter Sixteen
    Thursday and technique class again. I sat in the corner of the studio, my eyes drooping. I was feeling very weary. Being at Silver Shoes helping Miss Caroline out every day sure was tiring! My shins hurt from the one-sided way I’d been walking and all the fighting with my friends was playing on my mind. But I’d said I would assist Miss Caroline, and so here I was.
    â€˜Riley,’ she said to me as she walked over to switch songs on the iPod. ‘You still with us?’
    â€˜Yes, Miss Caroline,’ I said.
    She eyed me down. ‘You know, you’ve been a great help lately, but if you want to take an afternoon off, you can.’
    â€˜I’m fine.’
    â€˜How’s your ankle? Have you been doing your strengthening exercises?’
    â€˜Yes,’ I lied.
    The truth was, I’d been so busy with my chores at Silver Shoes that I hadn’t even really looked at them, much less tried them. I still thought I could do my own exercises and stop when my ankle said ‘ouch’.
    â€˜Don’t wear yourself down, though, I’ve told you this before,’ she said, referring to my ability to think I can do everything. ‘We want you rested, strong and confident by the time exams roll round. That’s your goal.’
    I just smiled and looked out at the class sadly.
    â€˜Okay,’ she said. ‘Now you might be feeling sprightly, but this old body needs a coffee. Do you mind making me one, Riley?’
    â€˜One sugar, not too much milk,’ I said, sliding myself off the seat. ‘Coming right up.’
    I walked along to the teachers’ room and over to the kettle. The teachers’ room had lost its thrill, and I didn’t even have the heart to laugh at the picture of Justin Bieber surrounded by girls that someone had taped to the fridge with the word ‘Jay’ scrawled next to it with an arrow.
    I measured out the coffee and sugar robotically. Milk, hot water, stir.
    I sighed. The last thing I wanted to do was go back into a room full of unfriendly faces. But Nana always said you should never run away from what you’re scared of, you always face it. Her advice had worked out well whenI’d followed it before. So I picked the coffee mug up and made my way back to the studio.
    To meet the unfriendliest face yet.
    Miss Caroline’s.
    â€˜Thank you,’ she said, taking the mug from me and setting it down without even looking at it. ‘Can I talk to you for a minute?’
    Geez, what had I done now?
    â€˜Sure,’ I agreed, following her into the hall.
    â€˜Riley,’ she said, once we were out of earshot from the rest of the girls, although I could feel their eyes on us. ‘Did you tell the girls the kicks in the travelling step for jazz were done on a flat foot?’
    â€˜Um … I can’t really remember,’ I said. ‘Maybe.’
    â€˜Well, that isn’t right. The kicks are done on demi. All of them. And you turn to the back, not the front. I appreciate you helping me out, but you can’t go telling the girls the wrongthing. It confuses them so close to exams, and they’ll get a lot of points taken off if they do the step incorrectly, all because of something you’ve told them.’
    â€˜I didn’t do it on purpose!’ I said defensively. ‘I … thought it was done on flat feet,’ I finished lamely.
    â€˜The whole point of the kicking step is to show strength and balance and turnout,’ Miss Caroline said. ‘Demi pointe is crucial for that. You know that, Riley. I wouldn’t have let you run through exams with them if I thought you were unsure yourself.’
    â€˜I just forgot!’ I protested. My voice cracked on the last word and I had to suck my breath in, loudly.