Toe to Toe (On Pointe Book 1) by Penelope Freed (read with me TXT) 📕

have to answer. I bet she’s mad at me for making her worry, not because she was worried, but because it meant she didn’t get the good night’s sleep she’s convinced she needs. Perfect Hannah needs everything to be just right, and I’ve ruined the start to her day. “Breakfast!” Mr. O’Brian calls from the kitchen, saving me from Hannah’s death stare.

Breakfast is a mixture of sleepy yawns and irritated glances being thrown my way. Thankfully, with Mr. and Mrs. O’Brian here, the girls can’t voice their opinions of my decision to sleep at home without getting themselves in trouble for letting me go. Checkmate.

I flick Hannah’s butt while we wait our turn. She turns around to glare at me, but I just grin. I swear she hasn’t taken a full breath since we walked into the room an hour and a half ago. I throw in a wink just to make her mad, then I move up in line with the other girls in my group. I love this part of class, grand allegro is my favorite and this one is a doozy. It’s so ridiculously hard and I’m dying to try it.

You could have heard a pin drop when the teacher, Marco Bethelo, started it, “And, relevé passé, close behind, then relevé passé close fourth en pointe. Then pas de bourre en tournant into a fouetté, a fouetté, a fouetté, and a double…” I mean, fouettés are hard enough, turning on one leg while whipping the other one around to start again will knock you off balance in a heartbeat, but to get into them with almost no preparation?

I. Love. It.

The turns go straight into a series of leaps, zig-zagging across the floor. Going from high speed spinning to literally flying across this giant studio is going to be a trip. It makes me almost glad I came today, although sleeping in would still have been better.

The group of four girls I’m part of is next up, so we arrange ourselves in a diamond shape in the corner and wait. Then I’m off, I bend both knees, then spring up onto pointe on one leg, then the other, before I throw myself into the series of turns. I manage to get two good turns in, before spinning out of control. I put my foot down quickly and do an ungraceful spin to catch up to the next part of the exercise. I jump, my legs gracefully pushing underneath me as I take off to leap. I can feel myself flying, my arms outstretched in front of me and for a moment I’m weightless, before I quickly head the other way for another leap. The girl in front of me didn’t travel across the room as far as I did on the first side, I may have cut off the girl behind me to get past her, but she’ll adjust. We finish and scurry out of the way. I turn and watch Hannah in her group. Katy is in her group too, but I don’t bother watching her. Katy and I have a bit of a frenemy situation going on these days. Probably because I kissed her brother Hunter last Halloween. Whatever.

Hannah is definitely one of the best dancers in the room, especially when she stops overthinking everything and just dances. When she really dances, Hannah looks like she could explode with joy, it makes you want to watch her. Not that I would ever tell her. She manages to pull off the whole turn sequence with barely a bobble, although I think she probably could have done a triple turn at the end instead of a double, but she plays it safe, typical. I bet she only did two so she wouldn’t be late on the music. Her long legs sometimes make that hard for her. I knew distracting her for a second was a good idea. You’re welcome, Hannah.

Me? I’m a little more of an all-around pretty good dancer. I do a lot of stuff decently, but not one thing better than all the others. But my real strength is that I’m fearless. I’ll try anything. I figure that the worst thing that could ever happen to me already did, so what do I have to lose now? Double pirouette into a somersault? Why not? A grand jeté landing into a roll on the floor? Done it a thousand times. Audition in front of a famous former dancer? No sweat. Not literally, I’m sweating like a pig right now, but you know what I mean.

We get a chance to try it again on both sides and I manage to do better on the second try. At least I don’t spin out this time, even if I feel like my jumps aren’t quite as high. This late in the class, my legs are heavy and feeling my lack of sleep last night. Hannah goes for a third turn and is late getting into the next step but she manages to catch back up. Katy falls out of her turns and crashes into the girl behind her. She’s rewarded with a dirty look from the girl she knocked over as they take off leaping across the room. I notice Marco Bethelo raise an eyebrow at the woman sitting next to him at the table at the front of the room, I bet that girl just lost her spot in the intensive. No one wants to work with a bitch.

The audition finishes and we curtsey, thanking the teacher and pianist, like the good little ballet robots we are. The pianist was really good though, so I genuinely smile and make eye contact with her when we clap at the end of the class. Anyone who decides to play “Pokerface” for degagés is a-ok in my book.

“So, how did it go girls?” Mrs. O’Brian asks, tucking her finger in her book as we troop over to gather up our bags and clothes.

“Pretty good,” Hannah says, dropping onto the floor