I hated lying to her, but it was better than saying I would rather stab myself in the leg than step foot in Westbury.
There were too many memories there. Too many ghosts of what I’d loved and lost.
“Okay.” Emma’s face regained some of its glow. “I’ll see you next class, then?”
“Of course. Congratulations again.” My smile was more genuine this time. “Sugar Plum Fairy is a huge role. You should be proud.”
I waited until the door shut and Emma was gone before I released a shaky breath and sank onto the floor.
The ache in my leg sharpened into a bright, pointed pain, as if the mere mention of Westbury had awakened the worst parts of my condition.
In, one, two, three.
Out, one, two, three.
I hated taking medication, so I breathed through the discomfort instead of reaching for the emergency packet I’d stashed in my bag.
Luckily, my symptoms had improved a lot over the years, thanks to lifestyle changes and careful stress management. It wasn’t like the months immediately following my accident, when I could barely get out of bed, but it wasn’t a walk in the park either.
I never knew when pain or fatigue would strike. I had to be on guard all the time, but I’d more or less learned to live with it. It was either adapt or wallow, and I’d done enough wallowing to last a lifetime.
My phone rang. I picked it up without checking the caller ID; there was only one person in my contacts who had that ringtone.
“Lavinia wants to see you in her office,” Carina said without preamble. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad.” A pause. “I think.”
The shock was enough to take my mind off my leg for a second. “Wait. Seriously?”
Lavinia was the director of RAB and quite possibly the most intimidating person I’d ever met. I’d worked at the academy for four years, and I’d never heard of her calling an unscheduled meeting.
This can’t be good.
“Yes.” Carina’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I tried to find out more but she’s being super hush-hush about it. She just told me to tell you to see her as soon as class is over.”
“Right.” I swallowed. “Oh God, I’m getting sacked.”
Was it because I refused to attend the school showcases? Did she think I was a bad team player? I mean, I wasn’t the best team player, but that was because people were so—
“No! Of course not. If she sacks you, she’ll have to sack me too,” Carina said. “We’re a package deal, and we both know she can’t afford to lose her top instructor and her trusty assistant. I hold the keys to all her PDFs.”
A small laugh rippled across the surface of my anxiety. She always knew how to make me feel better.
I’d lost a lot of “friends” after the accident, but I’d met Carina three years ago, when she joined RAB as Lavinia’s executive assistant. We’d bonded her first day over our mutual love for trashy reality TV and jigsaw puzzles, and we’d been best friends since.
“I’m coming,” I said. “See you soon.”
I stood with a wince, but the pain gradually faded into a manageable ache again. Or maybe it was all in my head and manageable only relative to my sky-high anxiety over the surprise meeting.
Carina was on the phone when I arrived, but she mouthed good luck and flashed me a thumbs-up as I knocked on the director’s door.
“Come in.”
I stepped inside with the caution of someone approaching an aggravated rattlesnake.
Lavinia’s office was as neat and polished as the woman herself. Giant windows overlooked the academy grounds, and an artfully arranged gallery of photos dominated the wall opposite the door. They captured the famous former prima ballerina in every stage of her career, from blossoming ingenue to international star to retired legend.
Lavinia herself sat behind her desk, her hair pulled back into a bun, her glasses perched on her elegant nose as she flipped through some papers.
“Please, sit.” She gestured at the chair opposite her.
I obliged, trying to tame my rampage of nerves and failing miserably.
“We’re both busy, so I’ll cut to the chase.” Lavinia was never one for beating around the bush. “We’ve partnered with the Blackcastle football club on a special training program this summer. I want you to run point on it.”
My mouth parted. Out of everything I’d imagined she’d say, a football cross-training program ranked in the bottom five.
Granted, I’d run similar programs in the past, but they were usually for League One or Two teams, not for the freaking Premier League.
“By run point, you mean…”
“You’ll be training them. You’re one of my best instructors, and you’re familiar with football,” Lavinia said. “I trust you’ll do a good job.”
I bit back a knee-jerk rejection. I knew exactly what she meant when she said I was “familiar with football.” After all, my brother was the captain of Blackcastle.
However, as much as I loved him and the club, I did not want to train him or his teammates. Most footballers were arrogant, insufferable, and selfish.
I should know—I used to date one.
Vincent was the only exception to my anti-footballer sentiments, and that was because he was family.
