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We stand up in an almost absurdly synchronized movement and follow Pearson, who guides us out of the auditorium and then the theater building. He leads us to the practice building as he does every year, so that the whole school isn’t there to witness most of us inevitably being disappointed. After depositing us all into one studio, Pearson goes into another, and we’re called in one by one, in alphabetical order. I’m the last one, which I hadn’t thought about before, but Winslow is pretty much at the end. Waiting is terrible.

One by one, my classmates leave the studio and come back. Tyler is first, Celéste fifth. It’s going faster than expected. There aren’t many big roles to fill. Two female, four male. That’s it.

Charlie gets the role of the prince, and Katie is the Queen Mother. Right now, I couldn’t care less about the others. But these two are important. Charlie will be my partner, and while I didn’t expect Katie to get that role, I’m happy for her. She deserves it after putting in so much effort last year and practicing so often outside of class.

Susannah is next, with only one girl and two boys left to go before it’s my turn. I bite my lower lip and have to suppress the urge to stand at one of the barres and do pliés just to keep myself busy and stop the carousel of thoughts spinning in my head.

Everything will be fine. It has to be. But it can’t be any other way. I’m going to get the role.

It will be fine.

My lips move silently, and I close my eyes. This has to work out. I have to be on that stage at Christmas. The others are talking quietly, whispered words I can’t hear. I feel Katie’s gaze on me, but I can’t look at her. I can’t talk to her. I just want this to be over. I want it to be my turn, and then this miserable waiting will be done.

“Well?” Katie’s excited question makes me look up as Susannah comes back into the studio. No, she floats in, with a radiant smile on her face, and my stomach churns. She glows, and she’s beautiful.

No, no, no, no.

This can’t be.

No.

She laughs and throws her arms around Katie. “Oh my God, I get to dance the Swan Queen.”

Just one sentence and my world shatters into a thousand pieces.

Chapter 17

Lia

I can’t breathe. It feels like someone has squeezed the air out of my lungs with all their strength.

This can’t be true.

She can’t have gotten the lead role.

It’s mine.

Not hers.

My chest throbs dully; my stupid heart is broken. Tears burn in my eyes. This must be a mistake.

I stand there frozen, unable to move. I can’t run away from this truth that I don’t want to hear. I feel cold and hot at the same time. Too hot. Too cold. Too much of everything. Susannah is there in front of me, telling Katie about the role, beaming with joy. She is the White Swan. And the black one. She did it. How can this be happening?

I’m falling apart, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m self-destructing right before their eyes, and they don’t even notice. I don’t understand what they’re saying. I can’t hear anything, just a high-pitched buzzing in my ears.

Pearson must have made a mistake. That’s the only explanation. He made a mistake, and the role is mine.

If it isn’t . . . then I don’t know anything anymore. I don’t know who I am. What I’m supposed to do with my life. What I’ve been fighting for these past few years.

“Lia.” A slender hand on my shoulder snaps me out of my stupor. I flinch, blink, and see Katie in front of me, looking at me with unmistakable pity in her large, dark eyes. “It’s your turn,” she says quietly, but still too loudly, and nods toward the door.

I look around; everyone else is already back, and I didn’t even notice. They stare at me, and I feel sick. They stare like they’re waiting for something, though I don’t know what it could be. My eyes dart to Susannah, but no, I can’t look at her right now. I can’t be happy for her, even though I should be as her friend. Right now, it doesn’t feel like I’ll ever be able to be happy about anything again, especially not about my friend getting something I wanted with every part of my soul.

My forehead throbs, painfully and steadily. I know I have to go to Pearson, so I straighten my shoulders. I force myself to take a breath even though everything hurts, even though my chest feels too tight and absolutely everything feels wrong.

Silently, I start to walk. I can’t rely on my voice—it won’t obey me now. I have nothing to say anyway. Nothing at all. I can’t say that I’m happy for Susannah, I just can’t. That would be the biggest lie I’ve ever told, and I’ve lied many times.

My steps are heavy as I walk down the hall to the studio where Pearson is waiting for me. I want to throw up and run away. Not necessarily in that order, but the urge to do both is pretty overwhelming.