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“So what classes are you taking in the meantime?”

“Mostly general education stuff. English, Italian for my second language, and math, natural sciences, but I also enrolled in the dance program.”

Bella whistles. “The dance program is pretty serious at RUA, isn’t it? I have a friend in there, and she dances part time at the Royal Ballet as part of her course.”

“Oh, I’m not specializing in performing arts like an actual professional would. I only take eight hours per week.” I shrug. “I’ve been doing ballet since I was seven, so it’s mostly because I’m used to it.”

“Ballet. Nice.” Sebastian winks, the cad. “You must be flexible.”

I try not to think of the times when I proved to him how much I was, and fail miserably, as the heat rising around my face attests.

“Maybe you know Tricks,” Bella says. “Patricia. She’s a friend?—”

I can’t believe it. “Seriously? She’s my best friend.”

“No!”

“I’ve been friends with her since grade school. In fact, I dance because her mom took pity on me when I kept showing up to watch her. She’s our teacher. I couldn’t afford the classes, but she let me join anyway.”

As soon as I say it, I regret it, expecting looks of pity or scorn from that crowd. But everyone’s just focused on the coincidence.

“Small world!” Grace marvels. “Jinx is in our class at RAA.”

I’d forgotten Jinx was still in high school. She might be the smarty pants out of her sister and her, but Tricks’s performing arts course has different requirements; she graduated this year, at the same time as with me.

Both of them got scholarships at the Royal Academy of Anderia; Jinx for her brains, Tricks for her talent.

“I’m surprised we didn’t meet before,” Grace ponders. “Tricks comes to most parties…”

I snort. “I’m not. I don’t go out much.”

Not for lack of trying on her part, but I’m not a social butterfly. I’m fine tonight, but if I’d been invited ahead of time, I likely would have found an excuse to cancel.

“Serious, huh? All work and no play makes Liv a dull girl,” Sebastian drawls, before flashing those dimples. “Well, maybe not.”

He’s blatantly flirting with me, and I don’t know what to do with it. Ignore him? Flirt back? The dynamic is weird for someone who already came inside me four or five times.

Not to mention his friend across the room.

“Well, youmustcome to my birthday next week,” one of the girls tell me. “Say you will, pretty please?”

I nod to Astrid, fully aware that it’s likely one of those things I will cancel last second. The petite Asian beauty grins like agreeing alone is a present.

Why is everyone so damn nice?

“I need to pee,” says Grace, which apparently launches a veritable exodus to the bathroom.

Was every girl holding it in, waiting for someone to crack first?

I can’t talk. I remember the existence of my bladder at that exact moment, and follow the herd like a well-trained sheep.

CHAPTER TEN

LIV

One thing about me: when I need to go, I need to go. Part of the issue is that I don’t really notice the need to pee until I’m desperate. I blame a decade of bi-annual performances: three hours in elaborate costumes, with very little chance to pop by the toilet. I know how to hold it. And then, I don’t. One of the many reasons I don’t do well in social circumstances. Why are women’s loos always so freaking full?

I tap my foot relentlessly.