Aisling's Diary

Chapter 38

Sunday 29 January (continued)

11:00 a.m.

Can you believe it? I’m not sure I can. For just one moment Killer Kennedy was able to talk in a normal voice about something that didn’t include keeping your arms in, or keeping your back straight. She actually told us to dance from the heart. She said that’s because that’s where we keep our Irish tradition. For one moment I actually believed she had a heart and felt all warm towards her. She does really seem to want us all to do well. I don’t think it’s all about winning the competitions, I think it’s about us all doing our best, our very best for ourselves. When I think about it, is that really so bad?

Thing is: I’m not dancing from my heart – at all. I don’t know where I’m dancing from, but it’s definitely not the heart. When I touch my heart where Kennedy did, I end up thinking about Murphy. You know, I keep thinking, it wasn’t his fault that things went so bad for me. Pretty much everything that happened to me was down to what I did. Murphy didn’t make me lie to Mum, or make me mess up with Siobhan and Ali. All he wanted was for me to dance as best I could and he brought me into his world enough to do that. I was so concerned with finding new friends and fitting in, I didn’t even notice that he’d been a friend all along. And you know what? In the end I don’t think I really treated him like you should treat a friend. I guess I’ll never get the chance to tell him that.

12:10 p.m.

An hour to go and I feel really weird. My feet are virtually uncontrollable. I’m sure my hairpiece isn’t on straight and one of the pins keeps pricking me in my neck when I turn my head round quickly. Yes, I know the answer: well, don’t turn your head round quickly! But that’s the least of my worries, my bodice feels tight, my socks are really itchy and my shoes are really pinching my little toe. I’m so uncomfortable and it doesn’t help that I’m sitting opposite Anya who looks about as serene as it’s possible to look. If Anya wasn’t so kind – she would really be getting on my nerves right now. Arggghhh. I just want it to be over.

TEXT! Wow, it could be Murphy. Why on earth would it be Murphy? He’s totally disappointed in me for giving up on the breaks and going back to Killer Kennedy’s rules.

Yep. Text is just Mum saying Good Luck. Thanks, Mum, but it’s gonna take more than luck. I’m gonna have to dance the best I ever had.

1:00 p.m.

We’re up. And breathe. I don’t have a good feeling about this. I just don’t think I can do it.

1:10 p.m.

I’m looking out from the side of the stage and I can see everyone. Mum looks about ready to burst with pride. Dad and Uncle Conor actually look to be talking to each other. That’s pretty much a first. There’s Aunty Stell who’s looking round at what everyone’s wearing, mainly disapprovingly. Siobhan and Ali look bored. Hey but not as bored as Eavanne and Sorcha who are behind them! Haha. I can’t believe the school is so supportive of us all and have made everyone come to watch us – I mean, imagine if they made everyone go to a Pulse editorial meeting? Bor-ring. But wait, if the school has made everyone come along then that means that someone else must be here too. Come on, he must be here. Look! There’s Dec and JP. He must be here. Why can’t I see him? No, what am I thinking, Murphy would rather dress up as a big fluffy hamster and wander the corridors of the school rather than come to watch this. I bet he volunteered for litter picking or physics lab cleaning, anything rather than come to watch me.

At least I can count on my family, I suppose–oh look, there’s Granny Nora getting out her special attention glasses. Hang on one minute, where does Rory think he’s going? And why is he looking so suspicious? Oh this is just typical, there he goes fishing in his pockets for one of his mobiles. I can’t believe he’s leaving the auditorium just as I’m about to dance. Probably a ‘big deal’ he’s got on that he’s got to make a call about. Oh well, no chance to worry about that now.

They’re calling my name. I’m on.

Weird, I feel weird. My legs are all saggy like the elastic in your pants when it’s about to go, and I can’t remember my moves, even though I know I know them inside out. I can’t do this.

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