"Supermodels 3 - Having It All - Calhoun, B.B." - читать интересную книгу автора (Calhoun B.B)

"Now, now, I'm sure everyone will have a clean room by the time Ms. Winters comes by," said Eileen. She held up the pot of raspberry tea. "Who would like some more?"
The next morning, my first class was jazz dance. In the locker room on the second floor of the school, I changed into my black spaghetti-strap leotard and purple sweat pants. Then I walked into the dance studio, which was an airy room with several large windows and a wooden floor.
The studio was already filled with students in their dance gear, lying on the floor and standing at the barre against the wall, stretching out their muscles. I noticed that some of them looked as though they'd had years of dance training. But that made sense, I realized. After all, a few of them might be professional dancers, and dance is a good background to have if you're an actor or even a model. It helps you move gracefully and improves your posture.
I took a place on the floor and began to stretch. Slowly I felt myself relaxing. One of the things I'd really liked about taking jazz dance back in Chicago was that it gave me a chance to completely forget about everything else. My mother used to say that you need to give your mind a break sometimes, and when your body's busy, your mind empties out. She had started me dancing when I was little, teaching me short routines and showing me how to feel the music.
A few moments later, a tall, wiry woman walked into the classroom. She had smooth, coffee-colored skin, and her muscles rippled as she moved. Her hair was braided into a bunch of tiny cornrows with beads and pulled
into a ponytail. She was wearing a mustard-colored, scoop-necked leotard with a short multicolored cloth tied around her waist.
"Hello, people," she said. "I'm Belinda Peters, and this is jazz dance." She clapped her hands twice. "Now, let's have everyone in the center, please."
I took a spot in the middle of the room, in the third row, behind a small blond girl in a hot pink leotard and black tights.
"All right, folks," said Ms. Peters, clapping her hands again. "Let's begin."
She went over to the stereo system on the wall and popped in a CD. A slow pulsing drumbeat filled the room, and Ms. Peters led us through a series of warm-ups, starting with our necks and shoulders and working down to our feet.
"Very nice," said Ms. Peters, as the music died down. "Now, I'd like two separate groups. Let me have the experienced dancers on the floor first, please. The rest of you can take a seat."
I joined the group of kids sitting down against the back wall. I watched as the others spread out in the center of the room. I wasn't surprised to see the blond girl who had been
in front of me among them. From the way she moved through the warm-up sequences I'd already guessed that she'd danced quite a bit before.
"All right now," said Ms. Peters, looking back at the group of us against the wall. "You folks watch closely, because you'll be doing it next."
She popped in a new CD, and an upbeat song came over the speakers. She demonstrated a series of steps and began to work through them with the group. As they went through the routine, I repeated each of the steps silently to myself, memorizing the combination.
"Okay," said Ms. Peters, clapping her hands. "Very nice. Second group, now, please."
I stood up and walked to the center of the room with the rest of the students in my group. I took a spot in the second row, between a guy with brown hair who was wearing gray sweat pants and a white T-shirt and a girl with a long braid down her back.
Ms. Peters went through the series of steps again, first half time, then up to tempo. I found I didn't really need to watch her, because I'd already been through the routine
so many times in my head when I was watching the first group. I found I was easing from one step to the next as if I'd known the routine my whole life.
Suddenly, I caught Ms. Peters's eye in the mirror. She seemed to be watching me in particular. I wondered why she'd singled me out. I didn't think I was getting any of the steps wrong.
When the class was over Ms. Peters came toward me as I was leaving the studio.
"You're new here, aren't you?" she said. I nodded. "What's your name?" she asked.
"Naira Taylor," I answered.
"Nice work today, Naira," she said, smiling.
"Thanks," I said.
"But you know you were in the wrong group," said Ms. Peters.
I looked at her. "Excuse me?"
"Didn't you hear me say I wanted the experienced dancers in the first group?" she asked.
"Sure," I told her. "But I'm not really an experienced dancer."
She raised her eyebrows. "Don't tell me you haven't had any training at all?"
"Well," I said, "my mother taught me some
stuff when I was little, then last year I took a real jazz class. That was back in Chicago, where I'm from."
"Really?" she said. "Well, your mother did a good job. Starting early to hear the rhythms can be very important. Still, with only a year of formal training, you've impressed me."
"Thanks," I said, feeling proud.
Ms. Peters looked thoughtful for a moment. "Look, Naira, from what I saw today, I'd say you have potential. Your technique needs a little cleaning up, but that's just a matter of practice. Basically, you've got it."
"You really think so?" I asked.
"Definitely," said Ms. Peters. "I'd be very pleased if you would join Dance Club."
"Dance Club?" I repeated.
"I'm the faculty adviser," she explained. "A bunch of our best dancers just graduated last year, so we really need some new members. I know you haven't had a lot of training, but I see very good things in you, and I'd be happy to work with you individually."
"Gee, Ms. Peters, that's really niceЧ" I began.
"Wonderful," she said, cutting me off with a smile. "Then I'll see you today after school."
"After school?" I said.
"Yes, that's when Dance Club meets. Right here, every Tuesday." She smiled at me again. "Naira, I know you'll be a very welcome addition to the club."
As I walked to the locker room I had to admit that I was pretty flattered by the whole thing. I hadn't planned on joining Dance Club, but then I hadn't really thought I was that good at dance. It was just something I enjoyed. Now that Ms. Peters had suggested it, I thought it would be good for me to do more with dancing. After all, I like to be really good at the things I do, even if they're just for fun. And the club would give me a chance to improve my dancing and to get to know some HSPS students outside of classes. Besides, it also sounded as if Ms. Peters really needed new members for the club. How had she put it? That I'd be a very welcome addition.
Well, I was certain that Dance Club would be a very welcome addition for me, too.
That night I lay on my bed, my biology textbook in front of me. I had read the same paragraph on cell structure again and again, but the information didn't seem to be sinking
in.
I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me until I yawned. Then I realized that I must be tired. After all, it had been a full day at school. Mr. Mendez, the history teacher, had assigned a big paper due next week, and Ms. Peters had given us a thorough workout in Dance Club. She'd also said something about a performance at the end of the semester.
By the time Dance Club had finished, I barely made it back to the apartment in time for dinner. And now I had the rest of my biology reading, as well as my math homework, to do. And I wanted to start outlining my
history paper as soon as possible, especially since I would be leaving school early the next afternoon for a modeling appointment. Jill Murray had arranged a go-see for me at the studio of Diana Evans, the photographer who does all the ads for the designer Jackie Jones.