find someone else if we have to.”
I didn’t want that, either! That would mean that someone else was special. Instead of me. It might even be Clint!
“It’s just that we really do feel you’d be good at it. You’re a nice little mover! You’ve got a lot of style. Did you know that?”
I didn’t know what to say. My mum always tells me that I’m like a tornado. She says that one of these days the roof will cave in, the way I crash around. Now Miss Pringle was saying I had style!
“I was watching you, the other day,” said Miss Pringle, “when you were playing football.”
I said, “Yeah, well… football.” That was different.
“If you watch the really top players,” said Miss Pringle, “you’ll see they move very much the same way as dancers do.”
I didn’t want to be rude or anything, so I just kept quiet.
“I’ll tell you what,” said Miss Pringle.“Tomorrow after school we’ll go through some of the steps together, just you and me, not anyone else, and you can decide whether you want to do it or not. How about that? Would that be a good idea, do you think?”
I nodded.
“All right, then. Don’t forget to ask your mum if it’s OK. Tell her we’ll just be about half an hour.”
As soon as I hit the playground, Darryl came charging over.
“So what was it? What’s she want you to do?”
I mumbled, “Wants me to do something special.”
“Like what?”
“Just something!’
I wasn’t even going to tell Darryl, in spite of him being my best friend. Not until I’d made up my mind.
I said to Mum that I had to stay late at school the next day. I said it was something to do with the library. Mum’s quite keen on books so she said that was fine.
“I’ll come by half an hour later.”
I wasn’t even going to tell Mum the real reason. She’d only go and tell Dad, and I definitely didn’t want Dad to know.
Next day, at the end of school, I went to the hall. Miss Pringle was there waiting for me. She was wearing a T-shirt and joggers. I like it when she dresses like that! She looks cool; not like a teacher. She said, “OK, Danny! Football number. I’ll show you what we had in mind.” Then she put on some music and started to dance.
She’s really good! Like something off the telly. I never knew Miss Pringle could dancelike that. It’s a spiky kind of dancing. Zip, zap! Leap, spin. Now she’s crouched low, snapping her fingers. Now she’s up in the air, wham !
As I stand watching her, my feet start to tap. They do it all by themselves. Miss Pringle jerks forward – and so do I. MissPringle does a little hop – so do I. By the time she stops, I’m jigging about like some kind of glove puppet.
“Well!” She comes over to me. A bit out of breath, but not much. “What do you think? Do you feel like giving it a go?”
I said, “Um…”
It was like my mind was telling me no while my body was going yes. I didn’t want to be a dancer! But my feet were doing their own thing, twitching and tapping to the beat of the music. I couldn’t seem to stop them. Then my fingers started snapping and my legs started springing and I was following Miss Pringle, doing what she was doing. Zip, zap! Leap, spin!
“Danny, that is so good!”
I’d been in Miss Pringle’s class for a wholeterm and she’d never, ever praised me before. Not like that. The most she’d ever said was, “Well done, Danny! Top marks for trying.”
Now it was like I didn’t have to try. My body was doing it all for me.
“See?” Miss Pringle beamed. A great big beam that spread across her face. “I knew you could do it! And you enjoyed it, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you didn’t!”
I grinned. I couldn’t help it. “So what shall we do?” said Miss Pringle. “Shall we put you down as the Boy?”
I wanted to yell, “Yes !” But there was still this little bit of me that wasn’t quite sure.
“What do you reckon?” said Miss Pringle.
I said, “Well… yeah. OK. I guess.”
Miss
I didn’t want that, either! That would mean that someone else was special. Instead of me. It might even be Clint!
“It’s just that we really do feel you’d be good at it. You’re a nice little mover! You’ve got a lot of style. Did you know that?”
I didn’t know what to say. My mum always tells me that I’m like a tornado. She says that one of these days the roof will cave in, the way I crash around. Now Miss Pringle was saying I had style!
“I was watching you, the other day,” said Miss Pringle, “when you were playing football.”
I said, “Yeah, well… football.” That was different.
“If you watch the really top players,” said Miss Pringle, “you’ll see they move very much the same way as dancers do.”
I didn’t want to be rude or anything, so I just kept quiet.
“I’ll tell you what,” said Miss Pringle.“Tomorrow after school we’ll go through some of the steps together, just you and me, not anyone else, and you can decide whether you want to do it or not. How about that? Would that be a good idea, do you think?”
I nodded.
“All right, then. Don’t forget to ask your mum if it’s OK. Tell her we’ll just be about half an hour.”
As soon as I hit the playground, Darryl came charging over.
“So what was it? What’s she want you to do?”
I mumbled, “Wants me to do something special.”
“Like what?”
“Just something!’
I wasn’t even going to tell Darryl, in spite of him being my best friend. Not until I’d made up my mind.
I said to Mum that I had to stay late at school the next day. I said it was something to do with the library. Mum’s quite keen on books so she said that was fine.
“I’ll come by half an hour later.”
I wasn’t even going to tell Mum the real reason. She’d only go and tell Dad, and I definitely didn’t want Dad to know.
Next day, at the end of school, I went to the hall. Miss Pringle was there waiting for me. She was wearing a T-shirt and joggers. I like it when she dresses like that! She looks cool; not like a teacher. She said, “OK, Danny! Football number. I’ll show you what we had in mind.” Then she put on some music and started to dance.
She’s really good! Like something off the telly. I never knew Miss Pringle could dancelike that. It’s a spiky kind of dancing. Zip, zap! Leap, spin. Now she’s crouched low, snapping her fingers. Now she’s up in the air, wham !
As I stand watching her, my feet start to tap. They do it all by themselves. Miss Pringle jerks forward – and so do I. MissPringle does a little hop – so do I. By the time she stops, I’m jigging about like some kind of glove puppet.
“Well!” She comes over to me. A bit out of breath, but not much. “What do you think? Do you feel like giving it a go?”
I said, “Um…”
It was like my mind was telling me no while my body was going yes. I didn’t want to be a dancer! But my feet were doing their own thing, twitching and tapping to the beat of the music. I couldn’t seem to stop them. Then my fingers started snapping and my legs started springing and I was following Miss Pringle, doing what she was doing. Zip, zap! Leap, spin!
“Danny, that is so good!”
I’d been in Miss Pringle’s class for a wholeterm and she’d never, ever praised me before. Not like that. The most she’d ever said was, “Well done, Danny! Top marks for trying.”
Now it was like I didn’t have to try. My body was doing it all for me.
“See?” Miss Pringle beamed. A great big beam that spread across her face. “I knew you could do it! And you enjoyed it, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you didn’t!”
I grinned. I couldn’t help it. “So what shall we do?” said Miss Pringle. “Shall we put you down as the Boy?”
I wanted to yell, “Yes !” But there was still this little bit of me that wasn’t quite sure.
“What do you reckon?” said Miss Pringle.
I said, “Well… yeah. OK. I guess.”
Miss
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