The walk from the football field to the arts building felt longer than it should have.
Maybe because Isla was still irritated?
Or maybe because every time she replayed the scene in her head, she saw that arrogant look on Liam Douglas’s face again.
Jonna stayed beside her, practically bouncing with energy while Isla carried her duffel bag over one shoulder.
Students crowded the pathways between buildings, voices blending into a single loud stream of laughter and gossip, music blasting from open windows.
“You should’ve seen his face after you clapped back at him. I swear he looked shocked for the first time in his life.” Jonna said, grinning.
Isla scoffed.
“Good.”
“No, seriously. Liam Douglas does not get spoken to like that.”
“That sounds like a personal problem.”
Jonna laughed loudly enough that a few students turned their heads.
“You really don’t know who you just embarrassed, do you?”
“I know exactly who he is.” Isla adjusted the strap, digging into her shoulder.
“An annoying quarterback with a superiority complex.”
“A hot, annoying quarterback with a superiority complex,” Jonna corrected.
Isla shot her a flat look.
“What? I’m just being honest.”
They crossed the courtyard toward the arts wing, the massive Gothic structure looming ahead.
RavenHurst University carried prestige in every corner, and the students acted as if they knew it.
Jonna lowered her voice dramatically.
“Liam Douglas basically rules this campus.”
“That’s dramatic.”
“It’s true.” She hooked her arm through Isla’s.
“The football team and the entire school worship him. Professors adore him because he keeps bringing attention to the school. Half the girls here would voluntarily ruin their lives for him.”
Isla glanced sideways.
“That’s pathetic.”
“You haven’t even heard the worst part yet.”
Isla sighed.
“There’s worse?”
“Oh, definitely.” Jonna leaned closer.
“Girls openly compete for his attention. Like, openly. There was this girl he hooked up with last semester, she cried because he left a party with somebody else.”
Isla grimaced.
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish I were.” Jonna laughed again.
“So in a nutshell, Liam Douglas, the Star Quarterback and Campus King, is a man-whore.”
“Man-whore?” Jonna repeated.
“That’s kinda extreme though.” She whispered.
“But…Yeah. You’re right. It’s safe to say he’s hooked up with a lot of girls. And don’t even get me started on RavenHurst Secrets.”
“Hmm. RavenHurst Secrets. The viral page?”
“You know about it?”
“I heard people talking about it earlier.”
Jonna nodded immediately.
“That page posts everything. Hookups. Fights. Breakups. Scandals. Secret recordings. If somebody sneezes too hard on this campus, RavenHurst Secrets somehow hears about it.”
Isla squeezed her face slightly.
“That sounds invasive.”
“It is invasive,” Jonna said.
But she looked completely unbothered by that fact.
“And Liam trends there constantly. He’s basically their favorite topic.”
“Wonderful.” Isla mouthed.
“I’m serious, though,” Jonna continued.
“And I won’t be surprised if what happened today gets posted on RavenHurst Secrets.”
Isla rolled her eyes hard enough to make Jonna laugh again.
“So watch your back, girlfriend.”
Isla didn’t say anything.
Every new thing she learned about Liam Douglas somehow irritated her more.
The confidence.
The attention.
People excused his behavior by saying he was attractive and popular.
And worst of all, the way he smiled at her earlier, like he already found her entertaining.
She hated that look.
“Don’t tell me you’re intimidated,” Jonna teased.
“I’m not intimidated.”
“You seem annoyed.”
“I am annoyed.”
“That’s even better.”
Isla shook her head, fighting a reluctant smile.
“You’re impossible.”
“And you’re interesting.” Jonna nudged her side lightly.
“I mean…you threatened to break his jaw when most girls either flirt with Liam or panic around him.”
“I didn’t threaten him.”
“You looked like it.”
“Well…he deserved it.”
“That is exactly why I like you.” Jonna declared.
They finally reached the arts building, where the noise of the main campus softened almost immediately.
The atmosphere here felt different.
It was calmer and focused.
Students carrying instrument cases and portfolios moved through the halls with quieter energy.
Something in Isla relaxed the moment they stepped inside.
Maybe because this world made sense to her.
Dance has always had.
When they reached the entrance to the dance department, Jonna stopped walking and turned toward her.
“Oh, wait. Before I forget.” Her expression brightened.
“There’s a welcome block party tomorrow night.”
Isla instantly shook her head.
“No.”
“You didn’t even think about it.”
“I don’t need to.” Isla shifted her bag again.
“I just got here. I’m trying to stay focused.”
“Isla. It’s. One. Night.” She emphasized.
“One distracting night.” Isla retorted.
Jonna groaned dramatically.
“You sound like somebody’s exhausted mother.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. You can’t spend your entire year hiding in dance studios.”
“I’m not hiding.”
“Mm-hm.”
Isla narrowed her eyes.
“I just…” Her voice trailed off.
Jonna grinned.
“Listen, RavenHurst parties are practically a cultural experience. You need to witness at least one.”
“I came here for school.”
“And you can still go to school after having fun for a few hours.”
Isla opened her mouth to refuse again, but Jonna cut her off quickly.
“Please come. I don’t want to show up alone.” She placed her hands together.
“You definitely know enough people here not to be alone.”
“That’s not the point.”
Isla hesitated.
Truthfully, parties had never really been her thing.
Back home, life had revolved around schedules, responsibilities, and taking care of herself.
Fun usually came second.
Or third.
Or not at all.
Now that she was finally here at RavenHurst, she just wanted to stay locked onto her goals before anything could derail them.
“Pleassssssssseeeeee…” Jonna pleaded.
She looked genuinely hopeful.
Isla heaved a deep sigh.
“I’ll think about it.”
Jonna gasped.
“That’s not a no.”
“It’s barely a yes.”
“I’ll take it.” She beamed.
“See? Progress already.” She spread out her arms.
“I love you.”
Isla laughed quietly.
“I love you too.”
“Text me when you are done, okay?” Jonna said.
She began to walk backward down the hall.
“And if Liam Douglas somehow falls in love with you before tomorrow, I expect details.”
“That’s never happening.”
“Sure.”
“Jonna.”
Jonna only laughed harder before waving goodbye and disappearing around the corner.
The second Isla entered the dance studio, the rest of the world faded away.
The room was massive, lined with mirrors stretching from floor to ceiling.
Sunlight poured through the tall windows, reflecting off polished hardwood floors.
The familiar scent of resin, sweat, and old practice shoes wrapped around her instantly.
Her chest tightened unexpectedly.
“God. I missed this.” She mumbled.
It was not the casual dancing in her bedroom.
Not small temporary studios back home.
This.
A real studio.
A real dance department.
A future that finally felt possible.
For a moment, she stood there, taking everything in, while students stretched on the floor and chatted near the barres.
It felt like freedom settled into her slowly.
Not complete freedom.
Maybe she would never fully have that after everything with her mother.
But this was enough to breathe.
Enough to finally belong somewhere outside hospitals, medications, therapy sessions, and endless worrying.
A girl with dark curly hair approached her.
“You must be Isla.” She said, smiling warmly.
“Yeah.”
“I’m Naomi.” She gestured toward the others nearby.
“Professor Hayes mentioned we had a transfer student joining us today.”
Within minutes, she was being introduced to several dancers at once.
Everyone seemed surprisingly welcoming, and some of the tension in Isla’s shoulders eased little by little.
And the warm-up began soon after.
The structure felt familiar to her immediately.
Ballet positioning.
Alignment corrections.
Controlled breathing.
Precision over speed.
Isla slipped into it naturally.
By the middle of class, muscle memory had taken over completely.
The mirrors reflected dozens of moving bodies.
And for the first time since arriving at RavenHurst, Isla stopped feeling out of place.
Here, she understood the language being spoken without words.
Movement.
Discipline.
Control.
When the session finally ended, dancers scattered around the room, grabbing water bottles and towels while conversations picked back up.
Isla bent to unzip her bag when she noticed Professor Hayes approaching her.
The older woman studied her carefully before speaking.
“Your mother wouldn’t happen to be Arabella Vincent Lancelot, would she?”
Isla froze slightly.
Slowly, she nodded.
“Yeah. She is.”
Professor Hayes’s face softened immediately into a genuine smile.
“I knew it.” She shook her head almost fondly.
“You have her eyes.”
Warmth spread unexpectedly through Isla’s chest.
“You knew my mom?”
“Knew her?” The professor laughed softly.
“Arabella and I were roommates during our second year here.”
That stunned Isla completely.
It’s been so long since she met someone familiar with her mother.
“You were?”
“We practically drove the entire dorm building insane together.” Professor Hayes smiled at the memory before her expression gentled.
“I’ve been hoping I’d meet you after I saw your application.”
For the first time all day, Isla felt something other than tension pressing against her ribs.
Something lighter.
Hearing about her mother’s connection to this place made RavenHurst suddenly feel less unfamiliar.
“She always talked about this school,” Isla admitted.
Professor Hayes nodded.
“And she was incredible here.” She crossed her arms loosely.
“One of the best dancers RavenHurst ever had.”
Pride flickered painfully inside Isla.
Her mother rarely talked about herself, a few months before everything fell apart.
Illness had slowly stolen pieces of who Arabella used to be, burying old memories beneath medications and exhaustion.
Sometimes, Isla forgot her mother had once been young and ambitious too.
Professor Hayes’s voice softened further.
“I was very sorry to hear what happened to her.”
The familiar ache settled briefly in Isla’s chest.
She offered a small nod.
“It’s okay.”
Not really okay.
But survivable.
Professor Hayes seemed to understand that unspoken distinction because she didn’t push further.
Instead, she smiled gently.
“If you ever need anything while you’re here, my office is always open.”
“Thank you.”
“I mean that, Isla.” She said.
The sincerity in her tone caught Isla off guard.
And before leaving, Professor Hayes squeezed her shoulder lightly and walked toward another group of students.
Isla watched her go, emotions tangled strangely inside her.
Homesickness.
Relief.
Grief.
Hope.
All exist together.
“You’re talented, you know.” An unfamiliar voice pulled her attention sideways.
A tall brunette stood nearby, holding a choreography notebook against her chest.
She looked older than most of the students around them.
She looked confident, too.
“I’m Elena, Senior Choreographer,” she introduced.
“Oh.” Isla straightened slightly.
“Nice to meet you.”
Elena smiled.
“I was watching during warm-ups. Your lines are clean.”
A flicker of embarrassment crossed Isla’s face.
Compliments about dance still felt strange after months away from serious training.
“Thank you.”
“You trained professionally before this?”
“For a while.”
“It shows.”
There wasn’t arrogance in Elena’s tone.
Just simple honesty.
She extended her hand, and Isla shook it.
“Welcome to RavenHurst,” Elena said.
“I think you’re going to do very well here.”
For the first time since arriving on campus, Isla believed she could, too.