I’m going to be sick. As if the rest of this wasn’t bad enough.

I no longer see the scenery we pass as Mom drives us to our new home, babbling the whole way. I see the hallway back at school, back before everything fell apart. Back when I was still in training a few years ago. When I had a whole bright, shining future ahead of me.

I could walk through the halls with my head held high as people greeted me, waving and saying hi as I passed. I was popular. I had friends. People wanted to be near me, the local celebrity on her way to the Olympics. I never saw myself that way. I wasn’t anybody special. If anything, I used to wonder if all those people who wanted to be my friend would lose a little bit of their excitement if they saw how grim and tough life as an aspiring Olympic gymnast could be. I didn’t have much room for fun or parties, or all the other things kids were into. But it was nice, feeling their approval as I walked to my locker and looked forward to chatting with my best friend before class.

Until somebody slammed into me from behind hard enough to knock me against a row of lockers. “Whoops,” a male voice said, nasty and cold. I barely had time to shake off my surprise before being jostled again by a second person.

“Stuck-up bitch.” Colt Alistair sneered at me while his brother laughed. Nix was already on his way down the hall, snickering over his shoulder. But Colt continued staring at me, almost like he was challenging me to fight back. I was too stunned and confused to offer anything but a puzzled stare.

I couldn’t understand why they didn’t like me. Everybody liked me. I had never done anything to them, either, not even close. We had hardly ever spoken to each other, and when we did, it was usually because they were saying something nasty to me, and I was asking what I ever did to deserve it.

They hated me, and nothing has changed in three years.

And now, my mother is marrying their father. Dread plants itself in my stomach and starts to spread through my body, sending waves of icy disbelief down to my fingertips and toes.

I wish I had never gotten on that bus to come home.

CHAPTER 2

“Have you been here before?” my mother asks, closing the car door behind her.

“No.” I shake my head, a bit confused by the question. “Why would I have been here before?”

“You went to school with Colt and Nix. I thought you three were friends.”