Tara: Catch Me if I Fall Page 2

  I watch him leave, feeling curiously lighter. At least someone believes in me. In the distance, the rotunda beckons me. Once inside, I begin a series of tentative stretches, testing my back. The harbour sparkles in the distance as I move from a series of battements fondus into a deep arabesque. I hold my breath, waiting for the tell-tale niggle of pain to course across my spine. When it doesn’t come, I swoop and soar around the rotunda like a newly released bird.

  I may be out of the Academy. But I can still dance.

  I walk along the empty corridor of the ballet school, drinking in the atmosphere one last time. Dad will be here soon to take me back home.

  A swirl of music from the end studio draws me in. I can’t help wanting to spend just a few more minutes in a place I’ve already spent so many hours.

  Someone’s already there. Saskia.

  I watch through the window as she rises and falls, her bearing confident, her movements exquisite. Something about them looks strangely familiar. When the music stops, I push the door open and go in.

  Saskia’s on the floor, massaging her ankle. She pulls back defensively when she sees me, ready for round two. But I’m not here to fight.

  ‘I dance like you,’ I tell her.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  I move across to where she’s sitting. ‘I’m not as good as you, but we dance the same way. I just never noticed it before.’

  Saskia raises an eyebrow. ‘Whatever you say, Tara.’

  Why can’t she see what I see?

  ‘I get it with Abigail,’ I say. ‘We’re in the same year, we’re always going to be competing. But I wanted to be exactly like you.’

  ‘I never asked to be your hero, Tara.’

  ‘But you’re a dancer,’ I persist. ‘You know what it means. How could you want to take that away from me?’

  ‘Your injury wasn’t my fault.’

  ‘And before that, you picked on me and belittled me, and you made me wake up every day feeling sick about going to class. You tried to break what matters to me more than anything.’

  I tower above her, waiting for her to deny this, but she just looks at me, her eyes haunted. Then I walk out, leaving her there, a sunken figure on the floor.

  Miss Raine has called Dad and me back to her office. I guess this is it. The final goodbye.

  Dad squeezes my hand. ‘Are you ready, love?’

  ‘I think so,’ I stammer.

  ‘Tara!’

  I spin round. Saskia is heading our way. ‘Can we talk?’

  Dad taps my shoulder, his eyes wary. ‘I’ll see you in the office.’

  Saskia looks different somehow – calmer, more relaxed. She waits till Dad leaves, then smiles at me.

  ‘Miss Raine is going to tell you that I’m leaving,’ she tells me.

  I stare at her, stunned. Leaving?

  ‘I’m going home to Perth to concentrate on my physio, until my ankle gets better. And I told her that I could’ve done better. As your teacher, I mean.’

  I shake my head. ‘That’s it? That’s your apology?’

  Saskia looks down for a moment, then meets my eyes. ‘Just wait till you’re my age, when there are dancers coming up behind you, wanting your roles. And they’re younger, healthier. More exciting.’

  ‘I would never do what you did,’ I tell her, amazed she could think this lets her off the hook. ‘I love ballet, but I wouldn’t let it destroy me.’

  For the second time today, I turn my back on her. I’ve got an important meeting to get to.

  ‘Tara!’

  I turn. What could she possibly want now?

  Saskia smiles. ‘I love it, too.’

  As I walk away, I realise something about Saskia and me. We’re not that different. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to forgive the unforgivable, and, in time, let all this go.

  As soon as Grace sees me she pulls me into a bear hug. There’s no need to tell her Miss Raine’s let me back into the Academy: it’s written all over my face.

  Yet the day brings sad news as well. Ethan – the first boy who changed the way my heart beats – is leaving for Europe. I guess there’s no choice but to move on. It’s the only way you can end up somewhere new.

  CHAPTER 3

  Life at the Academy quickly settles into a routine. It’s like I never left. The teachers work us hard, Grace is outrageous, Ben makes pathetic jokes and Abigail’s just as annoying as ever.

  It’s taking me a while to get used to the idea of Kat and Christian being together, but I’m working on it. And now, in their own annoying way, the first years have decided to declare war on us.

  The boys at my old high school were obsessed with playing war games. They’d put on camo gear and go out into the bush to stage military operations. I never understood the attraction – just thinking about war terrifies me. Why would anyone want to turn it into a game?

  Last night I woke up to a jet of water in the face, followed by a flour bomb. They got Grace, too. We ran down to the common room where Sammy and Ben were trying to fight back but it was hopeless – we were completely outnumbered. Everyone got splattered with eggs and water bombs, then more flour. Disgusting.

  Ms Histead came in and made us clean everything up. Together. Which is when Remi, a first year, and Ben and Christian got the idea for a dance-off between the two warring groups. Remi wanted a ‘ballet battle’, but we’re going with a ‘hip-hop war’ instead. ‘Second Year Crew versus the Ballet Tragics’, as Ben put it. We’re meeting up on Saturday afternoon.

  Grace and I are on our way to class when Miss Raine bails me up in the corridor, her face grim.

  ‘Tara. I was extremely disappointed that you were involved in last night’s idiocy.’

  ‘It’s not like I had an option,’ I say, stung by the unfairness of her attack.

  ‘To be distracting yourself when your recovery has put you so far behind,’ Miss Raine continues. ‘You need to get your priorities in order.’

  I watch her storm off down the corridor, my shoulders drooping.

  ‘Are you just going to take that?’ Grace asks me, eyes flashing.

  I shrug, defeated. ‘Miss Raine’s right. I need to put my head down and work hard.’

  ‘Are you thick, woman? You exposed an abusive teacher and your dad is a phone call away from suing the Academy. If that’s not a get-out-of-jail-free card …’

  Frustrated by my wimpiness, Grace abandons me. I turn the corner to see Kat and Christian locked in a kiss beside the stairs. I’m fine with this, I try to convince myself. Totally fine. So why can’t I just go over and say hello?

  As I’m still recovering from my back injury, Miss Raine insists I do extra barre work instead of learning Spartacus with the rest of my class. It’s so unfair. They get to strut about wielding prop swords and I’m stuck here doing endless battements frappés.

  When part of the barre comes loose and falls to the floor, Miss Raine carries on like I did it on purpose. So I’m completely ready when Grace suggests I deserve some fun. Fun sounds good.

  I stand in front of the mirror, fluffing up my new hairstyle and admiring the stylish outfit Grace has thoughtfully put together for me. Ripped tights and a leopard print skirt – why have I never thought of that combination before? I’m determined to look my absolute best for the second year ‘bonding party’ Sammy and Ben dreamed up to bring us all closer together. Apparently there are ‘factions’ developing – whatever they are.

  ‘I’ve brought you a surprise,’ Grace tells me, handing me a plastic bottle.

  ‘Orange juice?’

  Grace winks. ‘Fun orange juice.’

  ‘Oh, right,’ I say, twiddling the bottle in my hands.

  ‘Don’t get serious on me,’ Grace warns.

  ‘No, no, I’m not,’ I reassure her, trying to sound cool. ‘I once had this box of chocolates that had liquid centres? And wow, it was a head spin.’

  I take a few swigs, then a few more. By the time I’m ready to go down to the common room I’m feeling like I c
ould take on the world. A staircase between me and everyone else? No problem. I take a flying leap and land on Grace – lovely Grace, my friend.

  ‘Oh, my god, I LOVE you!’ I tell her, hugging her.

  Grace laughs. ‘I’ve created a monster.’

  ‘Raaaaarrrrr!’ I shriek, displaying my claws. This is so much fun!

  From their private little lovey dovey spot in the corner, Christian and Kat give me funny looks. I ignore them.

  ‘You know what?’ I yell, ‘I am totally going to pash someone tonight.’

  I spin around, looking for my first conquest. ‘Hi, Ben!’

  Ben’s busy playing some stupid game. Hang on, there’s Sammy! But I’m not going to pash Sammy. Sammy’s my friend. I grab the juice bottle out of Grace’s bag, and spacewalk over to him.

  ‘Sammy!’ I squeal, reaching out for a hug.

  Sammy fends me off, so I move back to Ben. I’m sitting on his lap, thinking random thoughts, when I notice Christian and Kat in the kitchen. This time, though, they don’t look like they’re kissing.

  ‘Do you think Christian looks happy?’ I ask Ben. ‘I don’t think Christian looks happy.’

  ‘He’s probably just going through some stuff,’ Ben says. ‘Meeting your dad for the first time – that’s got to be full on.’

  I grab his face, pulling it towards me so I can hear better.

  ‘What?! What did you just say?’

  ‘Er, nothing,’ Ben says, back-pedalling madly.

  I’m shocked. No – outraged!

  ‘He met his dad? When?’ I demand, jumping off Ben’s lap and rushing into the kitchen.

  ‘You said you didn’t want to see your dad,’ I screech at Christian. ‘You broke up with me because I found your dad. And now you visited him?’

  ‘How about let’s not do this now?’ Christian mutters.

  ‘How about let’s,’ I yell back.

  Kat grabs my arm. ‘Come outside, T. Come talk to me.’

  I push her away. ‘I don’t want to talk to you, ever again.’

  I thrash about for a bit, bumping into furniture. Who moved it there, anyway?

  ‘I’ll take her upstairs,’ I hear Grace say to Kat.

  ‘No!’ I tell them, skipping away. ‘I’m dancing. With Ben!’ I add, latching on to him. ‘Ben likes me, don’t you, Ben?’

  ‘Um, sure,’ he tells me. Next thing I know he’s scooped me up over his shoulder. He must really, really like me!

  ‘Okay, let’s go outside,’ he tells me. ‘Fresh air.’

  ‘We’re kissing outside!’ I announce to the party on the way out the door.

  Outside, the harbour lights are twinkling in the distance. It’s dark and romantic. I lean in to Ben. ‘You smell like rainforesty,’ I tell him.

  Then vomit all over his shoes.

  The concrete path is cold, but at least I’m sitting down. There’s some kind of wall behind my back, holding me up. Miss Raine’s holding a bottle of water to my lips. Where did she come from? And where’s Ben gone?

  ‘You’re still on probation, Tara,’ Miss Raine tells me. ‘I don’t understand why you’d risk everything again. You obviously don’t care about your place here.’

  ‘I do care,’ I insist. ‘But you don’t care about me. Not anymore.’

  ‘I think you’re in no state to assess that right now, Tara.’ She passes me the bottle. ‘More water.’

  I glug some down, then squeeze my eyes shut, trying to concentrate on what I need to say. ‘You didn’t stick up for me. I told you there was something wrong with Saskia but all you cared about was protecting the Academy.’

  Miss Raine’s face spins in front of me.

  ‘You can put me on detention for life. I deserve it.’

  ‘Yes, you do.’

  I hang my head. I might as well just go and sit in the detention room right now.

  ‘But, I should’ve listened,’ Miss Raine concedes. ‘I was wrong, too.’

  I stare at her. She’s agreeing with me? Accepting some of the blame?

  Miss Raine pats my arm, smiling. ‘Although a note for next time – this is not the best way to get my attention.’

  And then she helps me up from the cold concrete, and sees me safely to bed.

  My head feels like an army of elephants is stomping around inside it. I am never going to touch ‘fun’ orange juice again. I make an absolute mess of repertoire class, but it isn’t just me stuffing up. Miss Raine keeps complaining about our ‘lack of unity’ in the Spartacus choreography.

  As soon as she dismisses us we gather up our gear, ready to head back to the boarding house. Next thing I know, Sammy’s standing with his back to the door, blocking our exit.

  I glance at Ben but he’s as mystified as me.

  ‘In fifteen minutes,’ Sammy tells us, ‘we’re meant to have this hip-hop battle with the first years, and as far as I can tell, nobody’s planning on showing up.’

  ‘Let’s not,’ Grace says. ‘Then they’ll know we’re too cool to care.’

  ‘Right,’ says Sammy, angry now. ‘We can be so cool that we never talk to each other again either.’

  Everyone looks down at their feet.

  ‘We have four months left of second year, and third year’s only going to be harder. This war isn’t about beating the first years. It’s about us being there for each other. And I don’t know about you guys, but I think that’s worth fighting for.’

  Sammy’s words hit home. We strut down to the wharf, our heads held high, ready to show the first years we’ve got what it takes.

  As I watch Sammy and Remi try to outclass each other with power moves, I think back to the war games my friends at home used to play. Maybe I missed the point. It wasn’t simply about pretending to destroy each other. It was about being on the same side, united against a common enemy.

  You have to be able to rely on the members of your battalion, no matter what’s happened, or even what you think might take place. Because that’s the only way you’re ever going to make it out the other end alive.

  CHAPTER 4

  In pas de deux class there are trust exercises they make us do, which is a bit sad, because if trust were a given, you wouldn’t need exercises anyway. You’d believe what people said and be able to tell the truth in every situation.

  In pas de deux, it’s usually fear that stops you from trusting your partner. Unless they’ve dropped you before, of course. Then it becomes a matter of learning from experience. Christian never dropped me once when we were pas de deux partners. It was only in real life that he let me down.

  Ever since I came back to the Academy I’ve felt slightly wobbly when I see him and Kat together, even though I tell myself that I’ve moved on. Until this morning. Christian and Kat were talking to a guy in a van who I guessed must be Christian’s dad, and Kat was cheerily introducing herself as his girlfriend. And I felt … nothing.

  It’s a good feeling. I miss Kat. Hopefully we can go back to the way things were. And then I get a brilliant idea. I’m going to invite her to come on the circus weekend Zach, our teacher, has organised for the second-year class. Now all she has to do is say yes.

  Charlie, our circus instructor, leads us out to the trapeze area. I watch in awe as two girls swing back and forth on a giant frame.

  ‘Trapeze is all about the bond you have with the other flyer,’ Charlie explains.

  We watch as another girl pushes off from the platform, swinging back and forth upside down. Then a second artist pushes off and starts to swing. Seconds later she leaps forward, connecting cleanly with the catcher. It’s amazing.

  I lean in close to Kat. ‘You should go up with Grace.’

  Kat’s not keen. ‘I doubt we’re that compatible. Connectivity-wise, I mean.’

  ‘Oh, come on, you’ve got heaps in common,’ I say. ‘You’re both –’

  ‘Blonde?’

  ‘You’ll like her, once you spend more time with her,’ I press, determined to have all my friends getting along.

 
; Charlie holds out a safety harness. ‘Okay, so who’s going to be my first pair?’

  Kat puts up her hand. ‘Me, I guess. Grace? You can be catcher.’

  Safely buckled into her harness, Grace swings upside down from the trapeze, her knees hooked over the bar.

  ‘I am a fruit bat!’ she trills.

  ‘Keep your arms firm!’ Charlie instructs Grace. She turns to Kat. ‘It’s all about the timing, okay?’

  Kat pushes off, swinging back and forth, but doesn’t let go.

  ‘Don’t you trust me?’ Grace calls to her.

  Kat leaps forward but Grace is giggling too much to catch her. I watch, my heart in my mouth, as Kat hits the net, bouncing twice.

  She stands up, unhurt, but obviously not impressed with Grace’s attitude. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

  It’s my turn. My gut wrenches uncontrollably as Charlie straps me into the harness. I’m too scared to look down. It’s such a long way to fall.

  I push off towards Grace, struggling to hook my knees over the bar. Grace swings towards me, her arms outstretched.

  ‘Come on, T. You’re literally leaving me hanging,’ she calls.

  I force myself to lean backwards, then with an effort throw myself towards Grace – and miss. Seconds later, I’m floundering on the net.

  Grace drops down beside me. ‘I thought you were all about the flying?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Awww,’ Grace says in a cutesy voice. ‘The liddle petal is scared.’

  ‘Of course she’s scared,’ Kat tells Grace as I negotiate my way back to the ground. ‘She had a broken back. And do you really need to talk in that voice?’

  ‘Ka-at,’ I warn her.

  ‘Sorry,’ Kat says. ‘It’s just as the “best friend”, you’d think she’d understand why you might be worried about getting injured.’

  ‘Grace does understand,’ I tell her, miffed. ‘She’s been there for me through all of it.’

  ‘Unlike you who made it worse,’ Grace adds.

  Kat folds her arms. ‘And there it is.’ She stares at me, waiting for my response. When it doesn’t come, she adds, ‘Great leap to my defence, T,’ then walks away.