Abigail: Through the Looking Glass Read Free Page B

continue, ‘but for some reason I haven’t been able to source any. Which is irritating because it’s
Swan Lake
and that’s something I’ve obviously got to see.’
    Sammy has zoned out, slack-jawed and glazed over. He’s staring at me as if I’m an alien.
    ‘So?’ I say, after a moment’s silence.
    ‘Yes,’ he exclaims. ‘We can absolutely go to the ballet together!’
    I’m not sure why he’s shouting it – but at least I have a ticket.
    I’m already in the common room when Sammy arrives alone. He gabbles something about my dress and then seems to want to leave.
    ‘Where’s Mia?’ I ask.
    ‘Hmmm?’ He’s doing that weird look again.
    ‘Your girlfriend?’ I remind him.
    ‘Oh,’ he says. ‘No, it’s just us two today. I think she’s coming down with something.’
    He chokes and coughs.
    ‘Nothing contagious,’ he adds. ‘I’m not sick. Mint blockage.’
    Suddenly, Mia bounds into the common room.
    ‘Sammy!’ she cries. ‘You are seriously going to love me. There wasn’t a ticket left on the planet,’ Mia’s saying, ‘but Dad knows this guy who pulls strings.’
    She hands him the tickets and looks at me.
    ‘You look nice, Abigail,’ she says. ‘Are you going to the ballet as well?’
    All I can do is nod. I can see exactly what Sammy’s done, and it sucks. Why would he lie to Mia like that?
    ‘Together?’ she asks, her eyes full of hurt.
    Sammy won’t even look at her. Mia’s face crumples.
    ‘Silly me,’ she says softly.
    She turns and walks out of the common room. I look at Sammy. At least he has the grace to look guilty.
    ‘If they’re going to waste …’ I say, looking at the tickets.
    He holds them out, and I take them and leave the room. I’m not going to get caught up in other people’s melodramas.

CHAPTER 4
    It’s the biggest betrayal in the world when your own body turns against you.
    I’m staring into the mirror, trying to
will
it not to be true. I’ve put a flesh-coloured boob tube over the top of my sports bra, but if they carry on growing, that won’t be enough to flatten them.
    Why does this have to happen now? I feel like crying, but Tara might walk in and see. We don’t speak much any more, and she might use it against me.
    I tighten my lips, lift my chin higher, and pull on my leotard. It’s no good – I can see them through it. I’m just going to have to keep my crossover on in class. It’s baggy enough to cover these
things
up.
    I should have known Miss Raine would notice.
    ‘Abigail, you’re out of uniform.’
    ‘I’m still a little cold,’ I say.
    ‘Were you here for warm up?’ she raps out.
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘Then take that thing off,’ she says. ‘I need to be able to correct your body. Unless of course you think I have nothing to teach you?’
    ‘Of course not, Miss Raine,’ I think fast, ‘it’s just I think I might be coming down with something. I feel a bit shivery.’
    ‘Miss Armstrong,’ she says, in a dangerous tone, ‘you are either ready to work or at the doctor. Which is it?’
    I know she’s expecting me to take the crossover off, but I just can’t – not with everyone staring like this. I turn, leave the studio and head for the doctor’s office.
    Doctor Wicks checks my glands, but of course everything’s fine. I’m about to jump down from the examination bed when she says, ‘Slip your crossover off and I’ll check your lungs.’
    ‘Is that necessary?’ I ask. ‘It’s more of a head cold.’
    I force out a cough and hope it sounds convincing.
    ‘I need to check that your lungs are clear,’ she says.
    ‘Well can’t you do it on top? It’s freezing in here.’
    Apparently not. Is she trying to be difficult? I wriggle out of the crossover, hating her – hating my body – hating Miss Raine – hating every second of this. I can see my reflection in the mirror. I look pale and miserable and … unsurprisingly … kind of cross.
    Dr Wicks pulls down the back of my leotard and pauses.
    ‘That