Harlequin School for the Performing Arts

Chapter Two

Katherine's POV

"Beautiful extension Katherine. Take a break." Madame Dubois cheered as she patted my shoulder. I rolled my neck and nodded, removing myself from the barre and grabbing my water bottle from my bag. I sipped it gently and dropped it into my bag as I sat and stretched my splits waiting for the class to join me. As I leaned forward, I took in the sights of each girl's pink satin pointe shoes, each of them spinning, pointing, flexing completing a series of steps, and starting again. One by one, Madame touched their shoulder and they joined me beside the mirrors, stretching out their legs. As the last girl came to an end, Madame clapped her hands diverting our attention to the centre of class, here, she taught us our Adage study, she showed us once, then walked us through the steps slowly, we were given five minutes to learn it ourselves then we came in groups of three to show Madame our talent. Classes ran this way each day; she then congratulated the best dancer and then shamed the worst.

As I worked through the steps, I took in the competition around me, Annabel, a tall, stick thin blonde with a neck that went on forever, and Sarah-Louise an average height redhead with the grace of a swan, and the flexibility of an elastic band. We were the trio to beat. Although we despised one another, we respected each other's talent. I stared into the mirror as I practised, a string of honey brown hair was flopping as I développéd my leg to a 90 degree angle and placed it down. I gripped it back and resumed my rehearsal eager not to waste any time. In my class there were nine girls, which was an exceptionally large in comparison to the four in the boy’s class. I was placed in group two alongside a girl whom had been in my ballet class since we joined Harlequin at the age of eleven; the other girl was one of the quieter girls, sticking firmly to the back of the class and was rarely seen on campus.

Group one contained both Sarah-Louise and Annabel, which set the bar high for me. I felt sorry for the girl in which they were grouped with, despite her technique being of a high quality, she just wasn’t as expressive or naturally talented as the other two. As they ran off, my group and I stepped in calmly, I took centre and they spread to my left and right sides. The music started, and I instantly fell into a trance, I let my body flow through the music, beat by beat, step by step, until I came to a stop in an arabesque. I placed my leg down and curtsied for Madame before I joined the others at the front. I sat alone with my water bottle as I watched the next – and final – group. There were two mediocre girls and Stephanie Ramirez. Stephanie was at the bottom of the class. Quite frankly, the entire class couldn’t believe she made it in – she had the worst extension, ordinary flexibility and a complete lack of discipline to her dancing. Lesson after lesson, she was placed at the bottom, yet she still came back and made the same mistakes. Regardless of this, I was still well and truly jealous of her. She was the epitome of perfect. She had long flowing brown hair that shimmered even in the dark, flawless olive skin, and full dark brown eyes.  She spent her days in ballet, and her nights out on campus with the sports teams partying the night away. She was full figured, yet thin, short enough to wear heels around anyone, but not so short she was made fun of. I watched her struggle through the steps as if she was a beginner, but her smile shined the brightest at the end, like she was proud of her performance. She sat crossed legged in the middle of the group, each of them in some form of stretch, and she just sat there without a care. “Wonderful girls.” Madame diverted my attention to her. “As per usual, Katherine, you danced the most wholly and beautifully. Stephanie, it appears you have not made any progress this year.” She paused, "It's that time girls, auditions for the solos and the pas de deux for the end of year performance. I need the audition slips back in two days, auditions on Tuesday." With that the class was over.

As I packed my things ready to leave, Madame Dubois pulled me to the side. After the class had departed, she gestured for me to sit. “As you know Katherine, you are possibly the most talented girl in this class. Due to this, I must request that you spend a little time after class on a Monday with young Stephanie Ramirez. Your guidance and tuition may help her pass the year…” She nodded signalling her point was made.

“Of course Madame. I’d be happy to!” I smiled at her and hitched my bag up onto my shoulder and skipped out of the studio. 

Stephanie and I arranged a Monday morning class, neither of us had any lessons, so we used the ballet studio that looked over the fountain. It was smaller than most, but large enough for the both of us together. I arrived ten minutes early, and started to warm up; half an hour later, Stephanie ran through the doors, "Sorry I'm late!" She twisted her hair up into a bun and placed on her shoes.

I sighed as I took to the barre and waited for her to be ready.

"So, what are we going to do?" She asked beaming.

"Hopefully get your technique better." I rolled my eyes as we did a simple port de bras exercise - which we repeated almost twenty times before she got it perfectly. I then took her to the centre for core strengthening and muscles exercises.

"This is torture, not ballet!" She grunted at me, shooting me a dirty look. I ignored her and finished counting to 100 before sitting up straight.

"Core strength helps your work on pointe, so you don't look so sloppy, it helps to control yourself." I rolled my eyes at her again. To which she smiled and sat up. "Look, you don't seem all that interested in ballet, what's your deal?" I quizzed.

"I don't know what I want to do. Dancing gives me a sense of freedom, it's like I'm flying. I love to dance, who cares if I'm good at it?"

"Maybe one of the other hundred girls you beat to get this place?" I frowned at her harshly. "I've wanted to be a principal ballerina since I could walk. If I lost out to a loose cannon, I would... I don't know. I just don't think it's fair."

"I guess that's why we're here?" She smiled and pulled me to my feet. "Let's work on my solo."

For the rest of the session, Stephanie and I danced together and laughed together, and although her feet were bloody and raw from her shoes, she was already making an improvement. Her solo wasn't all that impressive, but she brought a character to it that no one else in the class did. Her flexibility was a touch short of mine, but her musicality was better. I edited it a little, adding in more of the movements she was better at, attitude turns and small floor section, creating a more contemporary piece, showing off her talents. At the end of the session, Stephanie threw her arms around me, and then ran out of the room, loose strands flailing everywhere. I then placed myself in the centre and started to fouette. One... Two... Three... Four... Five... Six...