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Katie smiles warmly. “Did you at least sleep well?”

“Yes,” I lie. “I feel much better today. Still a little tired, but at least not quite as exhausted as yesterday.”

“Thank goodness. After all, you have to be in good shape. This semester is going to be tough.” Katie takes a bite of her toast and gives me a meaningful look. But my gaze darts to Susannah, who’s stirring her yogurt but not actually eating anything.

“Which show do you think Pearson will choose this year?” I ask, continuing to watch her. It’s unlike her not to eat. She’s usually the one who’s always nagging us to eat enough, because we burn so many calories every day, and our bodies can’t work properly if we don’t take care of ourselves.

“No idea,” Katie says. “But I’m kind of hoping for The Nutcracker. It would be nice if, for a change, we performed a ballet in December that actually has something to do with Christmas.”

“That’s true.” I smile, and it’s genuine this time. I loved that ballet, even as a child. The Barbie in the Nutcracker movie had a big impact on me. Maybe that’s why I wanted to be a dancer even back then, so that one day I could dance the role of the Sugar Plum Fairy.

“I guess we’ll have to wait another couple of weeks until Pearson finally tells us.” Susannah puts down her spoon without having eaten anything and reaches for her water glass instead.

“Aren’t you hungry?” I ask, pointing to the full bowl, but she just shrugs.

“No, my stomach is misbehaving this morning. I just got my period. You know how it is.”

“Oh, sorry to hear that.” Katie grimaces sympathetically. “How bad is it?”

“Same as always. I’ll be fine.” Susannah waves her hand dismissively, grabs her handbag, and pulls out a bottle of Advil, as if she’s got something to prove.

I really want to believe her, because I know she always has problems when she gets her period. Nausea, migraines, cramps . . . she’s had about every nasty symptom you can imagine. Except I can’t shake the feeling that it’s not the real reason she’s not touching her breakfast.

I look at her carefully as I eat my cereal. Has she lost weight? Her shoulders felt thinner yesterday when I hugged her, but she doesn’t look any lighter than she did before vacation. Or does she? I try to remember what she ate last night, but I can’t. I was too distracted by the fact that Phoenix was here.

“Really, I’m fine,” she repeats. “Stop staring at me like that.” She glares at me and then at Katie.

“Okay.” Katie brushes a strand of hair behind her ear and gives me a meaningful glance. I shake my head in a silent answer. She’s fine. Just because she doesn’t want breakfast once doesn’t mean we have to read something into it. These things happen, especially when you have your period.

“Do you think Mr. Sutherland will be observing our class today?” Susannah asks, changing the subject and reminding me that our first class is about to start and that I’ll see Phoenix there.

The thought makes me nervous. God, I don’t want to see him. Unfortunately, I have no choice. After all, I can’t skip class. For a second, though, I wish I had just stayed in London and finished my studies at the Royal Academy of Dance. Then I wouldn’t have to face him every day. Great, now I’m at the point where I want to run away to another continent because of a guy. But when I think of RAD, something occurs to me.

“I don’t know,” Katie says to Susannah as I get up and grab my things. She looks at me, confused.

“What are you running off for? We still have a few minutes.”

“I have to go to see Pearson,” I say. “See you at the studio, okay? You don’t have to wait for me.” Picking up my tray, I leave before either of them can reply. Then I exit the dorm and walk across campus to the administration building, where the younger students will soon have math, English, history, biology, and all the other subjects you need to graduate from high school, while we spend our afternoons there being taught music theory, dance history, and anatomy.

But this semester, there are no theory classes for the senior class. We’ll be focusing on the ballet we’re going to be performing in a few months. I have to smile when I think about it. Just two more weeks and then we’ll finally know which show it is. But no matter what Pearson decides, it can only be good.

As I enter the administration building, I nod at Louise, who’s sitting behind the reception desk. But for once I don’t stop to chat with her. My gaze darts to the large clock on the wall. Almost half past eight. I’ll have to hurry to make it to class on time.

I rush down the corridor and reach Pearson’s office just as the door opens. Mr. Conrad comes out first, followed by the rest of the teachers. Phoenix is last, and my heart skips a beat when I see him. His eyes go wide when he spots me, and his shoulders tense. He’s wondering what I’m doing here—it’s written all over his face.

For a moment I forget why, myself. I forget what I wanted from Pearson. My mind goes blank, just because Phoenix is standing in front of me with his dark eyes and those curls falling across his forehead. I shouldn’t feel this way, it’s just wrong.

Pull yourself together, Lia. Seriously, it can’t go on like this.

It really can’t. We’re going to spend the whole semester together, and I can’t lose my cool every time I see him.

That’s not who I am.

I straighten my shoulders and turn to Pearson.

“Mr. Pearson, do you have a moment for me?”

“Now?” He glances at his watch.