Dancer at Silver Spires by Ann Bryant Page A

was close to me but wasn’t at this school. I felt sure it would help me to sort out my anxieties and hopefully make me feel better.
    But when I went to write the e-mail, I found there was one from Max.
    Hi Iz,
    Hope you’re okay. Still missing Claire. Pathetic, isn’t it? Thinking I might give her a ring. Not sure though. Holly sends love. So do M and D.
    Max xx
    I couldn’t help feeling another little burst of happiness at the way Max kept asking my opinion. Well, he hadn’t exactly asked for it, but he was telling me what he was thinking of doing, and that was amazing, considering how he always used to keep me in my place. It was like I’d suddenly grown up in his eyes. I thought back to the conversation I’d had with my friends and remembered how Emily had immediately said he ought to phone Claire, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Good old Emily, thinking of it straight away, when Max was only just coming round to the idea all this time later. I knew I ought to encourage him, so I quickly wrote back, saying I thought it was a great idea because if he was missing her then he must still want to go out with her.
    It was when I was about halfway through that the door to the internet room opened and in came Olivia. Immediately I felt myself knotting up inside again. Just the sight of her made me all stiff and shaky.
    â€œHi,” she said, dropping casually into the seat next to mine and switching on a computer. “So have you…decided what to do?”
    She was watching her screen spring into life and she sounded quite bored already. I wasn’t sure what she meant.
    â€œDe…decided?”
    â€œYeah. Have you decided whether to go for the solo or to stick with the seniors?”
    I hadn’t even realized I was supposed to be deciding, but now that she mentioned it, perhaps I was. It was true that Miss Morgan had never actually said, Right, Izzy, you’re taking over Abi’s role in the senior ballet club’s dance. And that’s that.
    â€œEr…I’m not sure.”
    â€œYeah, it’s difficult for you, coming along to a senior club when you’re only Year Seven.”
    I didn’t reply, but I could feel myself getting hot. I went back to my inbox and started to read a nice chatty message from my aunty, as there was no way I could concentrate on finishing my e-mail to Max now.
    Out of the corner of my eye I could see that Olivia was typing, and when she spoke next it was still in that same casual tone. “It’s not your fault though.”
    I stopped reading abruptly. “Wh…what’s not my fault?”
    Olivia was shaking her head and looking gravely at the computer and at first I thought it was because of something she’d seen on the screen, but then she carried on about me. “You can’t help being so young. It’s not your fault that you’ve not been dancing as long as the seniors. And that you’re…”
    I swallowed and felt my throat hurting. “And that I’m what?”
    She suddenly stopped what she was doing and whipped round to look at me properly. I felt like a little kid interrupting the grown-up who was doing something important. “Well, the others were on about how funny it would look with one dancer so much smaller than all the others, that’s all.”
    I closed down the e-mail and got up shakily. “I’d better go…”
    â€œOh…right. See ya then.”
    I didn’t say anything to Sasha about that terrible conversation. She would just repeat that I ought to ignore Olivia. But how could I?
    That night I lay in bed and tried to put myself in Olivia’s shoes. It was impossible, so I tried to imagine I was one of the others – say, Rachel. How would I feel if a little Year Seven came along and joined in with my senior ballet club dance and then took over the main part?
    It was no good – I couldn’t even put myself