"Alright girls," he said once we were all standing in a straight line. "I recognize some of you as being top ranking dancers. I'm going to expect a lot from you today."
I saw Taylor grinning wildly on the other side of the room when Michael said "top ranking dancers". I rolled my eyes.
"For a warm up, all of you are going to do nine steps of treble jig. I understand you are all dancing hornpipe for the nationals, but I think treble jig will be better for.... getting your muscles warm."
Uh oh. If nine steps is just a warm up, what will the rest of class be like?
I decided to go first with Claire, just to get it over with. Seven steps in, my muscles were on fire.
"PICK IT UP GIRLS! COME ON, DON'T DIE ON ME!" Michael screamed.
You can do this! I thought to myself. This is for nationals!
As much as it hurt, I kept on pushing.
"YES, CIARA! A' TTA GIRL!"
When we finished, I was grinning. I walked to the back of my room to grab my water bottle, and then got back in line. The rest of the class finished their treble jigs, and Michael turned off the music.
"Not bad..." He said. "You all are better than I thought. Now I want you each to do twelve steps of hornpipe, 3 at a time."
This can't be good.
"Now, let's see.... Ciara, Claire, and Molly? How about you go first?"
I gulped and stepped forward. He turned on a hornpipe.
Here we go.
I pushed it from the very beginning. I felt like I danced for 20 minutes straight, but I wouldn't let myself stop. I think I was the only one in my group of three who didn't. When I finished, Michael called me over.
Uh oh. This can't be anything good.
"Ciara, that was absolutely fabulous." Wait... What?
"Thank you!" I said.
"Your technique is beautiful, you have a gorgeous style... You have so much potential, it's unreal. Anyways, great job."
I walked to the other side of the room, stunned. Eventually, Michael told us to change into our soft shoes.
I took off my socks to adjust my bandages, and as I went to the trash can to throw out the old ones, I notice that there's something strange in it.
My pair of soft shoes, with my name written on the inside.
Someone had tried to throw out my soft shoes.
YOU ARE READING
Irish Dance Camp
General FictionCiara Sullivan is excited to be headed to one of the most prestigious Irish dance camps in the country, Campa damhsa na hÉireann, for two weeks with her best friend Carly. She's even more pleased to find that she is grouped with the current world ch...
