Free Silhouette by Thalia Kalkipsakis Page A

me dance. Judge my performance. None of the other things should matter.’
    The hiss of whispering comes through the speakers, muffled as if the microphone has been covered by a hand. I hear another clunk and Jack’s voice: ‘Okay, Scarlett. Thank you. Take your position please.’
    At last, a friendly voice. Friendly-ish. I run to position, flushed, but confident. Now is the time to show them what I can do.
    Electronic violins fill the air and I start into my piece. As I work my way deeper into the performance I focus on finishing each step exactly, reaching each extension at just the right time.
    When the music ends I’m breathing hard. There’s a silence but it’s a good silence, and I know I’ve done well. I’ve taken them somewhere. I’m not sure how I know, but I do.
    I curtsey. Then wait.
    ‘Okay, Scarlett.’ Again, it’s Mr Winchester. ‘We’ll let everyone know at assembly.’ Do I detect a note of disappointment?
    I count that as a good sign.
    As soon as Mr Winchester announces my name, all faces turn my way. I can feel their emotions bursting like bubbles around me – envy, disappointment, even resentment and anger. Tadpole’s is the only face not showing any tension. He beams up at me, both arms in the air, celebrating his role as the male lead. How does he get away with that? If I let myself look that pleased, they’d all hate me.
    I smile and flick my hair back in response but that clearly isn’t enough for Tadpole. He does a standing leap over a chair and begins to climb the rows, feet on backrests.
    His stunt takes the focus for a while and the reality of what just happened sinks in. I did it. Female lead. All I can feel is relief.
    After a rocking big hug from Tadpole, Izzy is next in line. I pull away from her squeeze, tilting my head apologetically in an attempt to hide any sense of joy that’s beginning to creep in.
    ‘No! Be happy, Scarlett!’ She grabs my cheeks with both hands and squeezes until I laugh. ‘Really, we knew you’d get it.’
    ‘Thanks, Izz.’ But I can’t shake the sense that I need to hold something back, especially when my success means the opposite for her.
    Paige is next. Normally we would have been sitting next to each other for an announcement like this, and I can’t help wondering if she found a seat away from me on purpose. Maybe.
    ‘You okay?’ I ask once I’ve shimmied past bodies and hurdled more than a few seats. She’s landed a solo, a good part, but not as good as the lead.
    For a moment she just considers me, bites a lip. Then her expression relaxes into a small smile. ‘Sure, I’m okay. Plus, I’m your understudy …’
    ‘Do you mind?’
    ‘Nuh-uh.’ Paige shrugs slightly. ‘Guess I can handle being next in line.’
    Most people in our year level wander away in various states of celebration and commiseration, and our group is free to debrief. It’s only now that I see Grant, standing to one side in the aisle, hands sunk in pockets.
    He flicks his fringe when I look over. ‘Hey, well done, O’Hara.’
    ‘Thanks.’ I reach up for a hug, more for him than me. He’s only dancing in the chorus. ‘You okay?’
    ‘Sure, yeah. No surprises, if you ask me.’
    ‘Coming to the Complex?’
    A shrug. ‘Of course.’
    There’s caution in the air as we collect our gear, quieter voices and more pauses than normal. Then we head into the wind outside and walk the three blocks to the Complex, Paige and Tadpole walking ahead. He has a hand resting on her shoulder. Both heads are tilted together as they talk.
    ‘Cute, hey?’ says Izzy and jerks her chin.
    ‘Definitely,’ agrees Grant.
    I clear my throat against the noise of the wind. ‘So what do you guys have planned for the weekend?’
    ‘What?’ asks Izzy. ‘As if we actually have lives from now on. First rehearsal is tomorrow.’
    ‘Yeah, I know.’ I haven’t forgotten about rehearsal. But I haven’t forgotten about Moss playing at the Dixie Bar either.
    Grant’s quiet, hands