Free Rhythm and Blues by Samantha-Ellen Bound Page A

cold.’
    â€˜But I’m going back on in a minute!’ I protested.
    Stacey stared at me. ‘Riley,’ she said, ‘you are not playing for the rest of the game.’
    â€˜What!’ I went to stand up but didn’t quite get there.
    â€˜Case in point,’ Stacey said. ‘The St John Ambulance man is going to check in on you in a second. You have to sit the rest of the game out. Otherwise you’ll do more damage than good.’
    â€˜I can tell you some really cool jokes in the meantime,’ Jackson offered, but I was too disappointed to even pretend to laugh.
    I hate sitting out on anything. All I could think was that my stupid ankle better be fine by tomorrow, because there was no way I was going to miss my dance classes at Silver Shoes.

Chapter Two
    Silver Shoes is the dance school Ellie, Paige and I have been going to since we were tinies. Ash joined us at the start of the year – she came from our enemy school, Dance Art Academy. But I think we all agree she’s way happier here!
    I had a lyrical class at Silver Shoes on Saturday morning – the day after my little accident at basketball. There was absolutely no way I could afford to miss it – especiallywith our exams coming up in a few weeks. Plus, I really love lyrical. Ballet is my main style, but I started doing lyrical a couple of years ago when Ellie told me I was too serious and needed to try a style where I could let my feelings out. It’s amazing how lyrical lets you express yourself in a way that ballet doesn’t (even if sometimes I struggle with really ‘letting go’!).
    I didn’t tell my family that I’d hurt my ankle or slammed my head into the ground. My big brother Fergus picks me up and he never comes into the stadium; he always waits outside near his car so he can whistle at any girls who walk by. (He doesn’t seem to notice or care that they snort in laughter and roll their eyes).
    The ambulance man had wrapped a bandage around my ankle, told me to keep icing it, and not do any vigorous exercise for a few days. So there was no getting around that. But Ijust told Nana and Tata (that’s ‘Dad’ in Fijian) that it was there because I’d landed a bit funny out of a jump. I said nothing at all about my ‘concussion’, even though I felt a bit woozy right up until I went to bed.
    Are you wondering why I didn’t say anything? Well, it’s because I knew I’d be all right. I didn’t want any fuss and to be stopped from going to dance class just because I’d hurt my ankle a bit.
    I didn’t need people telling me things about my body when it seemed to me that I was the best judge of it and what it was capable of doing.
    And missing a dance class so close to exams was not an option. We only did exams once a year, and this year my age group were doing our Silver Shoes Level Three exams in jazz, tap, musical theatre, ballet and lyrical – whatever classes we took. If we didn’t pass, we wouldn’tbe able to move up to the next level – which would be embarrassing, but it’d also be a waste of all the time and effort we’d put in to get better.
    So, with that on my mind, I cruised into lyrical class on Saturday morning like nothing had ever happened. I made sure I wore thick leg warmers over my ankles so our teacher, Miss Caroline, wouldn’t see the bandage on my right foot.
    And I tried to ignore the little niggling pain in my ankle that insisted this wasn’t a good idea.
    â€˜Hey Riley, how’d you go at basketball last night?’
    Paige took her place next to me before warm-up, which is how we start every class, followed by travelling exercises, and then a short routine. At this time of year, we also spend half an hour at the end of class running through our upcoming exams.
    â€˜We lost,’ I said, rolling my ankle around in circles to see where the pain was.
    â€˜Oh,