Pirouette Read Online Free Page A

drew up to a building on a university campus. The words School of Dance were engraved in black and gold lettering on the pale brick wall, and a brightly colored banner was strung across the entrance. On it, in a large, decorative print, were the words Welcome to Candance Summer School .
    As Hannah entered the building, dancers poured out of the open doorways, heading outside. Having left air-
conditioned studios for the warm outdoors, they reached for their water bottles. It was certainly hotter in Canberra than it had been in Melbourne.
    Ignoring a small pang of misgiving at the thought of having missed a precious morning session, Hannah looked for the office; she still had to register. It was down the other end of the corridor, and as she made her way toward it, she passed one empty studio after another.
    In one studio, though, the last of the morning classes was still in progress. Hannah stopped and peered in through the window. Three or four boys were executing a series of grand jetés en tournant in a large circle around the room, their jumps bold and impressive. The girls were taking turns running into the center of the circle and practicing their fouettés .
    Hannah watched, enthralled. Fouettés en tournant were so hard to master that it was generally only the prima ballerina who performed them onstage. They were often considered the measure of a dancer’s technique, since it took precision, strength, and stamina to keep on spinning while remaining centered.
    Hannah glanced at the schedule posted by the door, not at all surprised to discover that this class was Advanced Plus, the highest level. She was enrolled in Advanced, and even that, she expected, would be quite a challenge.
    Torn between wanting to stay and watch and knowing that she should really go and register, Hannah was about to move on when her attention was arrested by the girl who’d just taken up the center position. As she launched into a succession of thirty-two fouettés , it became obvious right away that this girl was an incredibly well-trained dancer. But it wasn’t just her perfect balance and exquisite technique that kept Hannah rooted to the spot. It was the girl herself.
    She had the same build as Hannah, the same tawny hair and light olive complexion. It was almost as if Hannah were watching herself—not that she was anywhere near as accomplished. Yet this girl didn’t seem especially pleased or proud of her achievement. On the contrary, she just seemed glad when it was over. Now she was saying something to the teacher, and the teacher was nodding, and a moment later the girl was moving in Hannah’s direction.
    Hannah stepped away from the door as the girl opened it, and then they were standing face to face, staring at each other, open-mouthed.
    â€œWow, you’re … ” Hannah began, and then she was lost for words.
    â€œSimone,” said the girl. “I’m Simone.”
    â€œI’m Hannah.”

    At first Simone was silent as the two girls continued to stare at each other.
    â€œYou were at the airport yesterday,” she said at last.
    Hannah looked surprised.
    â€œIt was you, wasn’t it?” Simone persisted.
    Hannah nodded.
    â€œI thought … that I might have imagined it.”
    Hannah smiled. “It is pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Her voice sounded just like a recording of Simone’s.
    â€œYeah. They say that everyone has a double, but … wow! We even sound alike.”
    â€œWe do,” said Hannah. “And we have the same build. But you’re a much better dancer.”
    Simone shrugged. “I dance full-time.”
    â€œLucky you!”
    The corridor had emptied out and Simone glanced through the studio window. Her class was winding up, the dancers taking their bows and curtsies.
    â€œWe need to talk about … this,” she said, waving her hand between herself and Hannah. “Before the others come