Holly and the Dancing Cat

Holly heard the horror in Alyssia’s hiss. “Chloe!”

“No thanks,” said Holly, folding her arms and turning away.

Just then, Madame Za-Za looked round. “Ah, Holly, you haven’t got a partner. Why don’t you …”

“I’ll dance on my own,” Holly interrupted. No one ever interrupted Madame Za-Za, who was quite strict, but Holly couldn’t bear the thought of being made to join a pair and watch the other two girls exchange looks. She knew she sounded haughty, but she didn’t care.

Madame Za-Za raised an eyebrow. “Very well,” she said, her eyes sweeping back to the other girls. “Now everyone, I’d like you to listen to this piece of music and imagine you are two leaves on the branch of a tree in autumn, fluttering in the breeze, about to fall …”

Holly danced on her own. I don’t care. I don’t care. She kept repeating the words in her head as she let the music flow over her, taking her away and making her feel like she was falling on the breeze, turning around, using her movements to express the feelings of wistfulness and sadness inside her.

I don’t want to be friends with any of them anyway. I don’t need them, she thought and then she lost herself in the music and thought no more.

“Very good expressive work, Holly,” Madame Za-Za praised at the end.

Holly gave her a small, tight smile. Now that the dancing was over she wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. As soon as Madame Za-Za dismissed them, Holly hurried away.

I’ll put Sleeping Beauty on again, she told herself as she changed out of her ballet shoes. Her muscles were aching from hard work, but she knew the one thing that would make her feel better was dancing.

Cramming her stuff into her bag, she left the changing rooms.

“Holly, wait!” she heard a voice call as she half-ran down the corridor.

She turned round and saw Chloe, coming out of the changing rooms. “I’m sorry you had to dance on your own today,” she said. She hesitated. “Um, you could always come round to mine sometime. I don’t know many people here, either.”

Holly was sure she saw pity in Chloe’s blue eyes. Unhappiness swept through her. How dare Chloe pity her! She’d travelled all over the world and met more ballet dancers than Chloe could even dream of.

“Why don’t you ask your mum if you can come round for tea next week?” Chloe suggested.

Holly’s temper exploded. “I’m hardly likely to ask my mum when she’s in America, am I? Anyway, I don’t want to be friends with you or with anyone here. Just leave me alone!”

And, swinging round, Holly stormed out of the front door.

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Holly ran down the drive of the ballet school, her feet slipping slightly on the fallen leaves. It was October now and the sun was low in the sky.