Will the Real Abi Sanders Please Stand Up? by Sara Hantz Read Free Book Online Page A

the building I haven’t been to before. At the end of the corridor there are a set of double doors, which Tilly pushes open, taking us into a practice room. The back wall is mirrored, and there are practice bars all around the other walls.
    “Mats are over there,” Tilly says, pointing to where there are a few standing in the corner. “And they call this place a movie studio,” she adds, scanning the room. “Just look at it.”
    I don’t reply, just run to the corner, pick up a mat, and bring it over, unrolling it and laying it on the floor. Then I take off my shoes and stand in the middle. Tilly does the same. I’m not sure exactly what she wants to know. Whether it’s just basic stuff, like how to stand, or what.
    “Stand with your feet apart and your knees slightly bent.” Yay, no stutter.
    “I know that,” Tilly snaps, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. “I’m not a total idiot.”
    This whole situation is just weird. Here I am, facing someone I’ve worshipped for most of my life, and instead of it being the best time ever, it’s turning into a nightmare. I know on screen it’s all acting. But how can she be so totally different from the characters she plays and yet so convincing? It’s crazy.
    “S-s-sorry.” Crap.
    “Show me how to kick. The roundabout kick.”
    A laugh escapes my lips, and my hand shoots up to cover my mouth.
    “What’s so funny?” Tilly demands, her eyes narrow.
    “Nothing. It’s called the roundhouse kick.” I chew on my bottom lip. And wait for snarky comment. Except it doesn’t come.
    “Show me.” Tilly stands opposite me, in the correct starting position, concentration etched across her perfect, porcelain-skinned face.
    I’ve been training juniors for a while, so I decide to treat it like that. I’m not facing a Hollywood star. She’s just someone who wants to learn about kickboxing. And if she wants to get it right, she needs to do as I say. I shake out my arms and stand with my legs slightly apart and bent.
    “The roundhouse is a turning kick. Lift your knee up and out, like this.” I show her, maintaining the first position. “And then twist your hip toward your target and flick your upper shin out.” I kick out into the air. “You try. Aim at my leg.”
    Tilly lifts her knee, but her hips aren’t flexible, and she misses me by miles.
    “Like this.” I face her, twist, and kick out at the same time she moves slightly forward, and I catch her on the thigh.
    “Ouch,” Tilly cries, leaning over and rubbing her leg.
    “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Why the hell wasn’t I more careful? She’s gonna really have it in for me now.
    “I’m fine,” Tilly says waving her arm dismissively. “Just go.”
    I do as she says, but not before catching the grimace on her face out the corner of my eye.
    Just when I was starting to feel a little more confident in front of her.

Chapter Five
    “Ouch,” I whimper.
    “Well, keep still. I told you, this is delicate work,” Mel, our makeup girl (or should I say sadist), snaps.
    What I want to know is why no one’s ever seen fit to tell me we have hairs on our ears? Okay, it might not be a topic of everyday conversation, but you’d have thought someone would’ve mentioned it. I had no idea, having never seen the hairs on mine, which is hardly surprising since they’re so fine you’d need a magnifying glass to notice them. Knowing would’ve prepared me for the excruciating pain Mel is putting me through each time she adjusts my fairy ears. Then again, if I had known, it would’ve given me something extra to worry about.
    I haven’t seen Tilly since our kickboxing lesson. Is it naïve to wonder if, now that I helped her, she doesn’t totally hate me? I hope she’s recovered from the kick, though. It wasn’t that hard—the same light-contact kick I would use with new junior kickboxing students sparring for the first time—so I’m sure she’ll be okay.
    Finally, or should that be frighteningly, I’m