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OneCharlie looked up at the sign and grinned. Here she was at last—at a real dance school. No more dancing in the cold church basement. No more boring ballet classes with old Miss Plum.
Charlie was finally at a real school that taught modern dance.
She hitched her bag higher on her shoulder, took a deep breath, and pushed on the heavy old door.
She could already hear music pounding from the studio above. From the thudding and clapping, it sounded like a toddler class. Or maybe junior beginners.
For months, Charlie had begged her parents to let her start dancing her