Centre Stage: A Novel

teachers were horrible? What if I couldn’t do the work? What if I got lost? The induction day we’d all been on last term suddenly seemed a very long time ago. I glanced at the framed photo on my desk. So much had happened since last term. The film for a start.
    The photo showed me and my friend from filming, Issy, standing with our arms round each other on the set of A Little Princess . Being in a film had been the best thing that had ever happened to me. I’d started off by auditioning for a small part but had ended up getting the main part of Sara. It had been brilliant. I’d spent all summer filming. The film was going to be shown in cinemas next year — I couldn’t wait to see it.
    I looked at Issy’s smiling face. She goes to a theatre school in London and she’s done loads of films and TV shows. In a few weeks’ time, she would be starting acting in a new TV show. Since the film we’d kept in touch by e-mail and I knew she was really looking forward to her new job.
    I felt a flicker of jealousy but it quickly faded. After all, it wasn’t like there was nothing happening in my life. In just two days’ time I was going to an audition for the part of Lucy, in a huge Christmas show of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe . If I got the part I’d get to act in a proper theatre every night for two months. I shut my eyes. I’ve got to get the part , I thought, imagining myself standing on a vast stage. I’ve just got to .
    ‘Sophie,’ Mum called from downstairs, interrupting my daydream. ‘Time to go!’
    I turned off the dryer and shook my head. Yes, that looked better. Instead of sticking up, my hair was now hanging straight to my shoulders. Jumping to my feet, I quickly tied my school jersey round my waist and took a deep breath. OK , I thought. Here goes .
    ‘Sophie!’ Ally squealed as I hurried up to the bus stop with Jessica five minutes later. ‘I thought you were never coming! Harriet’s not here yet either.’
    Ally and Harriet are my two best friends. I’ve known Harriet since we started at playgroup together when we were three, and Ally became our best friend three years ago when her family moved into our village. Ally and Harriet are really different — Harriet’s quiet and Ally’s definitely not — but we all get on brilliantly.
    Leaving me and Ally, Jessica sloped off to talk to her friends.
    ‘I am so glad to see you,’ Ally said. ‘I thought I was going to be the only one getting the bus.’ Considering we were surrounded by about fifteen people all wearing the same maroon-and-navy uniform, it seemed a bit of an odd thing to say. But I knew what she meant. Getting the bus to school with no friends to sit with on the first day would be a total freak-out experience.
    ‘Do I look OK?’ Ally asked, her big brown eyes looking at me anxiously.
    I checked out what she was wearing. Navy bootleg trousers — the same as mine — tie done in the same way, jersey round her waist, blonde hair curling round her heart-shaped face. ‘You look fine,’ I told her.
    Ally sighed out in relief. She doesn’t have an older sister to tell her what to wear. And although her five-year-old twin brothers are cute, if she listened to them she’d be coming to school wearing clothes with Bob the Builder on.
    ‘So, where’s Harriet?’ I said.
    Before she could answer, we both heard a sharp voice. ‘Don’t you dare come anywhere near me at school, Harriet.’
    Ally and I turned. Harriet and her older sister, Emily, were walking towards the bus stop. They look quite similar. They’re both tall with freckles and blondey-brown hair. The only difference is that Emily’s hair is cut into a bob and Harriet’s is long and she always wears it in a ponytail. However, although they look the same, they are very different and they are always arguing.
    ‘Like I’d want to hang around with you,’ Harriet replied, frowning at Emily. Suddenly she saw us and her face lit up. ‘Hi!’ she said, hurrying over.
    ‘Hi,’ I replied. My heart sank as I looked at her uniform. Harriet is absolutely not into clothes. I’d tried to tell her what to wear so that she would fit in but it was obvious she hadn’t been listening. She had tied her tie neatly, she was wearing her school jumper instead of having it around her waist and, worst of all, her trousers were only slightly flared and they finished higher than her ankle, showing off about ten centimetres of sock above her flat, sensible shoes. Definitely not