talking to me, but they come across as very serious and intense. This boy seems different, though: lively and fun, and more like Irish boys. I can’t believe Zsuzsanna knows him. I dislike Zsuzsanna even more now!
She’s being increasingly nasty to me as the weeks go by. Last week she whispered to Nóra the whole way through my solo, and it was really off-putting. Madame snapped at her, and Zsuzsanna scowled at me, as if it was my fault! She hates the fact that people say I am better than she is. She thinks she’s the best in the class. As if!
Anyway, at the start of the duet class, Madame Irina gave us another massive lecture about weight, in front of the boys and everything. She said that the boys couldn’t be expected to lift any girl who is over 110 pounds. It would be too much of a strain on their bodies. She asked Lana to sit out. “We do not want any accidents,” she told her.
At five foot eleven, Lana is one of the tallest girls in the class, and she’s also the most muscular. I know she worries about her weight, but there isn’t a bit of fat on her. You can see every bone of her rib cage pressing through her skin, like a ladder.
Lana went bright red.
Péter stepped forward then and said that he was strong and could lift any of the girls.
Madame wasn’t impressed. She said that he could dance with Lana, but if he got injured, it was on his own head.
As there are twice as many girls as boys, the girls were broken into two groups and we took turns at being lifted. I was paired with a blond boy called Alexandr who’s a good dancer with a safe pair of hands, but he isn’t very exciting to watch or to dance with. He has no spirit. Not like Péter.
The boys have separate classes from ours normally, so I’d never seen Péter dance, but I’d heard about a guy called Péter who was amazing. As soon as I watched him dance, I understood immediately what all the fuss was about.
When Péter takes to the floor, everyone pays attention. It certainly isn’t his technique, which can be a little sloppy and lazy. It’s the sheer joy and passion he puts into every step. Every jump is higher, every leap wider. He’s mesmerizing. And even when he lifted the tall girls like Lana, he made them look as light as feathers and as graceful as swans. He doesn’t seem to realize how good he is either, which makes me like him even more.
At lunchtime, my head was still full of Péter, playing through his spectacular series of lifts in my mind. And, OK, I admit it, his beautiful face, his intense brown eyes, his strong, toned arms . . .
Lana got cross because I wasn’t paying attention to what she was saying. I felt bad — she’d had a horrible morning. I noticed she wasn’t eating her goulash. “Madame said I have to drop seven pounds or I’m out of here,” she said when I asked why.
I told her not to be so silly, that she needed the energy to dance, and besides, Péter had had no problem lifting her and they’d looked amazing together.
She gave a
pah,
but I could tell she was upset underneath her hard shell.
I’m worried about her. She needs to eat; otherwise she’ll get sick. It’s really unfair — Madame shouldn’t put pressure on us to lose weight. No wonder some of the girls pick at their food.
Lana tried to change the subject by talking about the boys and saying how much fun it was to dance with them. I agreed, saying it was the best class ever. I told her I was jealous that she got to dance with Péter. And she said she thinks Péter likes me! Apparently he asked Lana about me after class. “You need to be careful,” she said “’cause Zsuzsanna has her eye on him, and she’ll be even nastier to you if Péter shows an interest.”
I told her he probably just wants to practice his English or something, but secretly I’m thrilled. The best male dancer in the school, interested in me. Me!
I’m off to dream about Péter now, Diary.
Szia!
xxx
That’s more like it — romance a-go-go! Then I
She’s being increasingly nasty to me as the weeks go by. Last week she whispered to Nóra the whole way through my solo, and it was really off-putting. Madame snapped at her, and Zsuzsanna scowled at me, as if it was my fault! She hates the fact that people say I am better than she is. She thinks she’s the best in the class. As if!
Anyway, at the start of the duet class, Madame Irina gave us another massive lecture about weight, in front of the boys and everything. She said that the boys couldn’t be expected to lift any girl who is over 110 pounds. It would be too much of a strain on their bodies. She asked Lana to sit out. “We do not want any accidents,” she told her.
At five foot eleven, Lana is one of the tallest girls in the class, and she’s also the most muscular. I know she worries about her weight, but there isn’t a bit of fat on her. You can see every bone of her rib cage pressing through her skin, like a ladder.
Lana went bright red.
Péter stepped forward then and said that he was strong and could lift any of the girls.
Madame wasn’t impressed. She said that he could dance with Lana, but if he got injured, it was on his own head.
As there are twice as many girls as boys, the girls were broken into two groups and we took turns at being lifted. I was paired with a blond boy called Alexandr who’s a good dancer with a safe pair of hands, but he isn’t very exciting to watch or to dance with. He has no spirit. Not like Péter.
The boys have separate classes from ours normally, so I’d never seen Péter dance, but I’d heard about a guy called Péter who was amazing. As soon as I watched him dance, I understood immediately what all the fuss was about.
When Péter takes to the floor, everyone pays attention. It certainly isn’t his technique, which can be a little sloppy and lazy. It’s the sheer joy and passion he puts into every step. Every jump is higher, every leap wider. He’s mesmerizing. And even when he lifted the tall girls like Lana, he made them look as light as feathers and as graceful as swans. He doesn’t seem to realize how good he is either, which makes me like him even more.
At lunchtime, my head was still full of Péter, playing through his spectacular series of lifts in my mind. And, OK, I admit it, his beautiful face, his intense brown eyes, his strong, toned arms . . .
Lana got cross because I wasn’t paying attention to what she was saying. I felt bad — she’d had a horrible morning. I noticed she wasn’t eating her goulash. “Madame said I have to drop seven pounds or I’m out of here,” she said when I asked why.
I told her not to be so silly, that she needed the energy to dance, and besides, Péter had had no problem lifting her and they’d looked amazing together.
She gave a
pah,
but I could tell she was upset underneath her hard shell.
I’m worried about her. She needs to eat; otherwise she’ll get sick. It’s really unfair — Madame shouldn’t put pressure on us to lose weight. No wonder some of the girls pick at their food.
Lana tried to change the subject by talking about the boys and saying how much fun it was to dance with them. I agreed, saying it was the best class ever. I told her I was jealous that she got to dance with Péter. And she said she thinks Péter likes me! Apparently he asked Lana about me after class. “You need to be careful,” she said “’cause Zsuzsanna has her eye on him, and she’ll be even nastier to you if Péter shows an interest.”
I told her he probably just wants to practice his English or something, but secretly I’m thrilled. The best male dancer in the school, interested in me. Me!
I’m off to dream about Péter now, Diary.
Szia!
xxx
That’s more like it — romance a-go-go! Then I
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