FOUR

Allie opened her eyes to find the room filled with light. In the hazy space between sleep and wakefulness she thought that, with its pure white walls and pristine white duvet, it looked like heaven.

She glanced at the alarm clock on the desk – six-thirty.

Had she ever been up this early in her life? Maybe for that trip to France with her family a few years ago, but never of her own volition. Never just for school.

She could hear voices in the hallway as she stretched and yawned. The room was cool with the fresh morning air.

She sat up straight and stared at the wide open window. Hadn’t she closed it last night? She could remember doing it but now it stood as far open as it had been when she’d sat in front of it during the night.

Maybe I just dreamed that I closed it.

She climbed out of bed muttering under her breath, ‘Get on with it, Allie.’ Pulling on her dressing gown and sliding on her slippers, she wrapped her shampoo and toothbrush in a towel and hurried down the hall, anxious about the shared bathroom scenario ahead.

In contrast to its echoing emptiness last night, the big room was now steamy and busy, but there was one free shower. Relieved it wasn’t one of those everybody-naked-in-a-brutal-concrete-cube shared showers, Allie pulled the curtain closed behind her and stepped in to find a private changing area in front of a spacious white shower cubicle. Both were spotless.

This wasn’t so bad, actually. There was plenty of space, a hook on which she could hang her robe and even a polished wooden bench where she could leave her slippers high and dry. In the hot spray she felt better almost immediately. Later, with her wet hair wrapped in a towel, she found a free sink to brush her teeth and didn’t really mind how busy it was. Swathed in a thick white robe like everybody else, nobody could tell she was the new girl.

Back in her room she quickly pulled on her uniform, combed her damp hair and applied a light sweep of mascara. Her hand hovered over the eyeliner … then she left it in the bag. This place seemed to have a different style than her school in London.

She gathered her papers and pens for the day and put them into the dark blue tote bag she’d found in the wardrobe. Swinging it over her shoulder, she headed downstairs at seven o’clock on the dot, well ahead of the seven-thirty breakfast deadline.

When she walked in the dining room door she paused for a moment – it had again transformed itself. Huge windows along one wall let in sunlight, diffused through white blinds. Gone were the twinkling candles and sparkling glasses. Most of the tables were empty and topped only with plain white tablecloths. Food was piled on buffet tables: ten kinds of cereal, a steaming cauldron of porridge and stacks of bread ready for toasting. Heated silver serving platters held eggs, bacon and sausages.

Smelling the food, she discovered she was starving again. Piling her plate with toast, cheese and scrambled eggs, she poured herself a glass of apple juice before claiming a seat at an empty table. She didn’t recognise anybody in the room, which was, in its own way, nice. She smeared butter and blackcurrant jam on her toast and took a huge bite.

‘Is this seat taken?’

Trying not to chew with her mouth open, Allie turned to see Sylvain standing beside her. She shook her head mutely, and struggled to swallow gracefully but failed, wincing as the food went down. For the first time she thought a smile reached his extraordinary eyes.

‘No … I mean, you can sit here. Please. Do …’

Sitting down beside her without a hint of awkwardness, he took a bite of bacon. ‘How did you find your first night? I looked for you in the common room but I couldn’t find you.’

Her heart jumped and she looked determinedly at her cheese so that he wouldn’t see how pleased she was. ‘I had a lot to read last night. I thought I’d better learn as much as I could before today to, you know, get ready. Big day and all that.’

He nodded and took a reasonably sized bite of toast. ‘I remember that from my first day. They seem to want you to learn everything about Cimmeria all at once. I think the information they give you is more than …’ Adorably he seemed to struggle to think of the English words he was looking for ‘… the school in size, if that makes sense?’

Charmed, she couldn’t help but smile. ‘I know exactly what you mean. It’s disproportionate.’

‘Yes. Disproportionate.’ He smiled back at her and Allie’s heart jumped again.

Stop that, she told herself firmly. He’s just being polite.

They ate in companionable silence for a while.

‘So,’ she said after a while, ‘does everybody hang out in the common room a lot? It looks OK.’

Great small talk, Allie. Really smooth.

He didn’t seem to notice as he sipped from a cup of milky coffee. ‘The common room and the library are where people are most evenings. In the summer when it’s warm many of us choose to be outside, though. I was outside last night, playing night croquet. That is why I was looking for you. I thought you might want to join us.’

Allie’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth.

‘You were playing croquet at night? In the dark?’

‘It’s more fun that way. You know, I’ve found that many games are more exotic if played at night.’ His eyes held hers for just a second too long.

And just like that Allie lost her appetite. She tore her eyes away from his, and her gaze skittered around the room.

Chair, table, girl-with-ponytail, window, chair again …

She felt the warmth rise in her cheeks. When she glanced back at him a slight smile played at the edge of his lips as he crumbled a corner of toast between long fingers, watching her face.

He’s flirting with me. Definitely.

‘Rounders, for example,’ he continued thoughtfully. ‘And football without lights, although that can be a bit … rough.’

He balanced a piece of bacon on his fingertips while he considered the possibilities. ‘Tennis with fluorescent rackets on a moonless night is incredible. I think you’d love it. I promise to find you the next time we play – wherever you are.’

She watched as if hypnotised while he took a bite.

‘Allie. How nice to see you again.’ Katie pulled out a chair across the table, and sat down. Her plate was intricately decorated with slices of fruit. ‘And Sylvain. What a surprise.’

Her long, curly red hair contrasted brilliantly with her milky, translucent skin. In the soft light, she seemed illuminated. She was surrounded by a small group of perfectly styled girls who watched Allie with amusement.

Sylvain looked at her icily. ‘I was just leaving, actually.’

He turned back to Allie and held her gaze. ‘We have English together, I believe. It’s Robert Browning this week, in case you want to read before class. See you then.’

He walked away before she could ask him how he knew what classes she was taking, but he turned in the doorway for a second and when their eyes met Allie felt as if somebody had draped a warm blanket across her shoulders. When he was gone she smiled at her apple juice.

‘Sylvain’s lovely isn’t he?’ Katie’s crisp west London accent cut into her reverie. Allie looked up to find her watching her knowingly. ‘Those dreamy eyes and that melty accent. His girlfriend’s lovely, too, isn’t she?’ She turned to the brunette beside her who nodded and giggled.

‘She lives in Paris now I hear.’ Katie delicately consumed a segment of grapefruit as Allie felt her emotional balloon burst.

Ah. Girlfriend. Right. So much for that, then.

She was not surprised to find the inevitable crushing blow of early romantic disappointment following hard on the heels of hope. Frankly, that was how things usually went for her. When she’d first met Mark there’d been something there. For two weeks it had been obvious to everybody that they’d get together. Until one night he’d shown up with a perky, diminutive blonde named Charlotte who had a penchant for miniskirts and hot pink nail polish.

After that he was just her mate.

‘How nice for him,’ Allie said resignedly. ‘Well … I have to go too.’

She stood up and walked away quickly, stopping herself at the last minute from looking for a place to take her plate and glass. Hearing giggles behind her, she straightened her spine and did not look back.

Outside the dining hall Allie joined other students walking down the wide hallway with oak wainscoting towards the classrooms in the east wing. The walls were lined with oil paintings – most were huge portraits of nineteenth century men and women in formal attire staring down at her haughtily. A few portrayed Cimmeria Hall from different perspectives, most from the hill outside with thick forest in the foreground. In one, the building was much smaller than it was now – before the expansion Isabelle had talked about.

Her first class was biology, in room 112, so she climbed the staircase to the first floor and found the room near the top of the stairs.

The handful of students who’d arrived early were sitting in pairs at tables arranged in long rows, as a tall, distracted-looking man with wire-framed glasses and unruly brown hair flipped through papers at the front of the room.

Allie walked over to him. ‘Hi. I’m Alyson Sheridan. I’m new.’

He peered at her over the top of his glasses and shuffled his papers again at length, finally emerging with one, which he waved triumphantly.

‘Of course you are. A transfer student, how lovely. But I have you down as ‘Allie’. Which do you prefer?’

‘Allie,’ she said, surprised. Schools always had her down as Alyson. But everybody at Cimmeria knew her as Allie before she met them.

‘Then Allie it is.’ He was shuffling papers again distractedly. ‘I’m Jeremiah Cole. The students usually call me Jerry. Please take the second seat on the right there, next to Jo.’

She glanced in the direction he pointed to see the blonde girl from dinner last night waving vigorously.

‘I’m so glad it’s you. I do hope you’re good at biology,’ she said as soon as Allie walked up. ‘I think all the sciences are diabolical – dead baby animals and parasites – what are they trying to tell us? Crikey we got into trouble last night, didn’t we? Does that always happen to you?’

She had a contagious smile – white, even teeth, deep endearing dimples and little crinkles around her tiny nose – and a lead crystal accent. Allie smiled back at her before her brain realised she wanted to do it.

‘It does always happen to me. If you hang around with me, it will definitely happen again,’ Allie said, with a wicked smile.

Jo beamed at her. ‘Brilliant! This is going to be amazing.’

As Allie pulled out her notebook, Jo whispered, ‘Isn’t Jerry snoggable for an old guy? I had a crush on him my whole first year here.’

Allie studied the teacher. He looked like somebody’s dad. A nice dad. But a dad nonetheless.

‘I like that you can call teachers by their first names here,’ she said noncommittally. ‘My last school was so strict we practically had to call them “Officer”.’

Laughing, Jo looked like she wasn’t sure whether or not to believe her.

‘You’re going to have to tell me more about your life,’ she said. ‘It sounds much better than mine.’

Don’t count on it, Allie thought. But she just smiled.

Jo showed her where the class had reached in the book. ‘It’s disgusting,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Today, I think we’re dissecting.’

As if on cue, Jerry called for quiet.

‘Today we’ll be looking at the general internal construction of amphibians, thanks to the sacrifice of this little fellow.’

Reaching under his desk he pulled out a dissection tray containing a dead frog, spreadeagled and pinioned, its pale belly curving at them vulnerably.

‘Oh bollocks.’ Jo grimaced.

‘Who can tell me why we’re dissecting a frog rather than some other poor creature?’ Jerry asked, looking at the class over the top of his glasses. ‘Why do we torment these innocent pond-dwellers? How about you, Allie? Do you know?’

Allie felt the colour drain from her cheeks.

‘I … I guess …’

‘Because a frog’s anatomy is much like man’s.’ The voice, deep and pleasing, came from behind her.

‘Mr West,’ Jerry said, glancing without warmth towards the speaker, ‘is correct as usual, although he could wait his turn. The anatomy of the frog is somewhat similar to human anatomy …’

Allie turned around in her seat to see who had saved her, and instantly recognised the boy from the common room yesterday. He was staring at her with those big, dark eyes, but his expression startled her – he looked almost resentful.

With a puzzled frown, Allie turned to face the front.

Science was not her best subject, and so she tried not to think about ‘Mr West’, and focused instead on Jerry’s lesson about frogs.

She didn’t look back again.

‘You took loads of notes,’ Jo said as they were walking out, ‘I’m so psyched that you’re really into science. I need a friend who’s a science geek.’

‘I’m not that into it,’ Allie said honestly. ‘I just think I’m going to have to work to catch up. This class is way ahead of my last school.’

‘This is a really hard school,’ Jo said. ‘But it’s fun too. Although it does have too many freaky rules.’

‘Totally,’ Allie said.

Pretending to straighten her bag strap, she asked casually, ‘Hey, who was that guy who saved me from the frog question? Jerry called him “Mr West”.’

With a knowing look, Jo lowered her voice confidentially. ‘Carter West,’ she whispered. ‘He is totally hot. But he’s a mess. So you probably shouldn’t.’

Allie was so intrigued she didn’t bother to deny interest. ‘How is he a mess?’

‘He’s constantly in detention. Thinks he knows everything and everybody else is shallow. He’s infuriating. Half the teachers hate him, and the others treat him like, I don’t know, he’s their kid or something. And he’s a notorious womaniser. He gets what he wants and then he’s not interested any more. You’d be better off working that Sylvain thing you’ve got going.’

Allie blushed. ‘I don’t have anything going with Sylvain.’

‘Well, I think he’s got something going with you.’ Jo elbowed her.

‘Actually, I heard he has a girlfriend in Paris.’

‘First I’ve heard of it.’ Jo seemed genuinely surprised. ‘Who told you that?’

‘The red-headed girl. What’s her name … Katie?’

‘Oh, Katie.’ Jo’s voice dripped with contempt. ‘Christ, she’s such a bitch. Don’t listen to a word she says. She’s always had a thing for Sylvain and he’s never been interested in her at all. She must really hate the way he’s just fallen for you.’

Allie kept her expression blank but inside she was churning. So Katie had lied. Well that was it then.

Game on.

The day was a brain burner of new classes, new teachers and new classmates, and of finding out the truth about just how much schoolwork she needed to do. She had Zelazny for history, which she’d thought would be a nightmare, but to her relief, aside from a brief hard stare when she first walked into his classroom, he treated her like everybody else.

Her next class was Isabelle’s English seminar, and as she walked in the first person she saw was Sylvain, leaning back on a desk, his long legs stretched out gracefully. He was talking to the boy beside him when she walked in, but she noticed that he stopped almost immediately and turned to watch her as she walked up to Isabelle.

‘Hi Allie.’ The headmistress smiled. ‘How’s your first day going?’

‘So far so good,’ Allie said, only lying a little.

‘Good.’ She handed Allie a course schedule. ‘We’re reading Robert Browning today. Are you at all familiar with his work?’

During her lunch break, Allie had read the Browning in her text book. ‘I’ve read “Life in a Love”,’ she said.

‘What do you think of it?’

Allie fidgeted. ‘It was all right.’

Isabelle tilted her head to one side, looking unimpressed. ‘Is that your full review?’

Allie hated poetry, but now seemed like a bad time to mention it. She leaned on the edge of a desk as she fumbled for the right words. ‘To be honest … it seemed a bit … you know, stalky.’

For a second the headmistress looked as if she was going to argue, but then she stopped herself and handed Allie the class syllabus. ‘Fair enough. Sit anywhere you like.’

The desks were arranged in a circle, which somehow made choosing one more difficult. After a moment’s hesitation, Allie picked a seat at random. When she sat down, she saw that Sylvain was still watching her. She raised her hand hesitantly, and he smiled at her before turning back to the boy beside him.

Isabelle stepped into the circle and leaned against an empty desk.

‘I hope everybody read some Browning last night. I’m curious to hear what you all thought. He had a unique style that rebelled against many of the accepted rules of poetry of the time, so I thought some of you might relate to his approach. I presume you’ve all had a chance to meet our new student, Allie. Allie, I don’t want to embarrass you, but would you please read the first few lines?’

Oh bugger.

Standing uncomfortably she held her book close to her face and cleared her throat.

‘Escape me?

Never

Beloved!

While I am I, and you are you

So long as the world contains us both,

Me the loving and you the loth

While the one eludes must the other pursue.’

At Isabelle’s nod, Allie slipped gratefully back into her desk.

‘So, what is Browning saying here?’ The class regarded her in silence. Allie was fairly confident that she knew, but no way was she going to say anything right now.

‘It’s about obsession.’

Allie hadn’t seen Carter West come in, but he was sitting just a few desks away from her.

Isabelle nodded. ‘Care to elaborate?’

‘As long as they both exist on the same planet, he has to be with her,’ Carter said. ‘He’s in love with her, but it’s more than love. It’s everything. He thinks they were meant to be together but she doesn’t. So his life is spent trying to convince her.’

‘Interesting theory.’ Isabelle glanced at Allie. ‘Anyone else?’

Allie slid down in her seat.

‘Ismay,’ the headmistress said, turning to a familiar-looking brunette. ‘Can you read the next few lines?’

Allie chanced a sideways glance in the direction of Carter’s voice, and then looked away sharply. He was looking right at her.

‘What is it with the boys in this school?’ Allie and Jo were walking to the library. Classes had ended for the day and Jo had intercepted her on the way back to her room and suggested they study together.

‘What do you mean?’ Jo asked.

‘They stare,’ Allie said. ‘A lot.’

Jo smiled. ‘You’re pretty. And new. Boys stare at pretty, new girls.’

‘I’m not that pretty. Boys didn’t stare at me like that in London.’

‘I think you’re pretty,’ Jo said. ‘Maybe they just …’ she shrugged, ‘want you to notice them.’

They both giggled. Allie pretended to sag under the weight of her book bag. ‘I can’t believe how much work I need to do.’

Jo nodded. ‘They really bury us in the summer, because if you’re here for the summer term it’s because you’ve got, like, promise.’

‘Promise?’ Allie raised her eyebrows.

‘You know, potential.’ Jo shrugged. ‘Whatever. The school is sort of, I don’t know, divided up, I guess. Some come here because they’ve got lots of money. Some come here because their parents did. But some are here because they’re super-clever. They’re here most of the year, while the others get the summer off. I think we’re being groomed to rule the world or something.’

Allie marvelled at how she could say things like that and not sound pretentious.

‘That’s why I don’t mind being here in the summer.’ Jo pushed open the library door and lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘We have the place to ourselves, and the people who are here at this time of year are the coolest.’

The voice in Allie’s head was damning: I’m not here because I’m super-clever.

As they walked into the library’s hush, she breathed in the rich mix of leather, old books, and lemony wood polish. The room stretched further than she could see through a forest of dark wooden bookshelves that reached to the ceiling fifteen feet above their heads. Each row had its own rolling ladder giving access to the highest shelves. The floor was covered with thick oriental rugs that captured the sound of their footsteps. Ancient, wrought-iron light fixtures that surely must have once held candles hung several feet below the ceiling on thick chains, so that the books on the top shelves were lost in the shadows. Heavy wooden tables topped with green-shaded lamps were surrounded by leather chairs; many were already occupied by students, dwarfed by the stacks of books piled around them.

Intimidated by the display of studiousness and its accoutrements, Allie tried to push back a wave of insecurity. She was already so far behind: how would she ever catch up? For the first time in a long time she cared about failing.

She followed Jo, who wound her way expertly to a table neatly placed to provide a good view of the main study area while managing to be slightly out of the sightline of the librarian’s desk. They stacked their books onto the table and settled into the big leather chairs. They were immersed in history when two leanly muscled arms wrapped around Jo from behind, pinning her to her seat. She gasped, and then giggled as a handsome blonde boy appeared near her shoulder, kissing her neck lightly.

‘Gabe, stop it! You haven’t met Allie yet. And you need to, because Allie is a goddess.’ Jo’s face glowed and Allie felt a twinge of envy chased by a brief surge of guilt for having felt it.

Gabe gave her a welcoming smile, his hazel eyes glittering in the lamplight. Reaching around Jo he held out a strong hand with square, neat fingernails. ‘Hello Allie. I’ve never met a goddess before.’

She smiled back and shook his hand. ‘There’s a first time for everything.’

Brushing a kiss on the top of Jo’s head he sat down across the table from her and pulled her notebook over so he could see it. ‘What are you two working on? Ah, history. Good to see you studying so diligently.’

Jo rolled her eyes at Allie. ‘Gabe’s a year ahead of us. Sometimes it makes him pompous.’

He laughed and swished the end of a pen lightly up her arm. ‘Not pompous. Just experienced.’

Jo giggled again as Gabe turned to Allie. ‘So you’re the famous Allie Sheridan everybody’s talking about.’

Allie was startled. ‘Everyone’s talking about me? Why would they talk about me?’

He smiled. ‘Relax. It’s just because you’re new. Fresh meat. Those of us who are here year round can start to feel a bit cut off from the rest of the world. So a new student in the summer is about as exciting as it gets. Plus there’s the whole Sylvain thing …’

His voice was ripe with suggestion as it trailed off, and he and Jo both smiled at her as if she’d done something wonderful.

‘Oh for God’s sake.’ Allie had heard enough of ‘the whole Sylvain thing’. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, but there isn’t a Sylvain thing.’

Jo leaned towards Gabe. ‘Allie’s in denial. I think they’re meant to be together.’

Allie glowered. ‘I’m not in denial.’

‘Either way,’ Gabe said smoothly, ‘everybody’s noticed that he’s interested in you. And we’re all intrigued.’

‘Why is it so intriguing?’

Gabe glanced at Jo. She gave a slight nod. ‘Sylvain is kind of … special. His parents are very important people – he’s from a very old family. And he’s kind of an interesting guy in his own right. Lots of girls over the years have tried to get his attention, but nobody’s ever really succeeded.’

Jo chimed in. ‘But then you came along and suddenly it’s like he has this huge crush.’

Allie felt pressured and she always hated that feeling. ‘Well, I’m sorry to disappoint everyone, but I’m not sure I’m interested.’

Jo looked exasperated. ‘I think she’s into somebody else.’

Gabe raised his eyebrows at her, and she gave him a significant look.

‘Carter,’ she said, wrinkling her nose.

‘Oh no.’ Gabe leaned towards Allie intently. ‘Seriously. You can’t. Not West. He’s the single worst guy you could go for here.’

‘Thanks Gabe. I never knew you cared.’

Allie recognised the rich deep voice instantly, and froze in her seat, trying to figure out how to dissolve into the leather and never be seen again.

Gabe was undaunted. ‘Oh, get over it Carter. You know it’s the truth. You haven’t exactly made a name for yourself around here as a reliable, trustworthy boyfriend.’

Giving Allie an apologetic look, Jo stacked up her books briskly. ‘I was just about to dash to the common room for a break before dinner. Should we all go?’

She and Gabe stood up, but Allie was immobilised with embarrassment. Besides, leaving now would look cowardly.

She raised her chin slightly. ‘No thanks. I’m going to get through a bit more before I take a break.’

Over Carter’s shoulder Jo mouthed, ‘I’m sorry,’ at her, before walking towards the door with Gabe.

Carter sat down in the seat across from her while Allie pretended to write a note to herself in her history notebook. But her mind was spinning.

So he now thinks I’ve got this major crush on him. So what? Let him think it.

She counted two breaths in and out.

‘Hey,’ he said.

Looking up from her notebook she saw that he was leaning forward. His face was close – his dark eyes looking right into hers. She thought, inanely, that his lashes were really long, and his eyebrows straight and fine.

Somehow she kept her face expressionless but her burning cheeks surely betrayed her.

‘I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,’ he said. ‘I’m Carter West.’

‘I’m Allie Sheridan.’ She willed her voice to be steady and unembarrassed and for a change it cooperated. She held his gaze fearlessly. Or at least she hoped it came across as fearless.

‘I know,’ he said, settling himself comfortably in the chair. He smiled cynically and she instantly didn’t trust him. ‘We should talk.’

‘Should we?’ she said coolly. ‘What about?’

‘You.’

‘Terrific,’ Allie said. ‘Well, my favourite colour is blue and I love puppies. Your turn.’

‘Very funny,’ he said, looking like it wasn’t very funny.

‘Oh yes,’ she said, ‘and I’m very funny. Sorry, I forgot to mention it earlier.’

He was beginning to look exasperated. ‘That’s really useful, thanks. But what I was wondering is, what are you doing at Cimmeria? It’s rather unusual for new students to join in the middle of summer term.’

Put off by his investigative tone, Allie leaned away from him and crossed her arms. He’d asked for the truth, but that was a lot of ammunition to give a stranger.

She twirled her pen between her fingers. ‘I won a contest?’

‘Funny,’ he said again, although his face said it wasn’t. ‘Seriously. Never be afraid to be honest – what brought you here really?’

So he wasn’t going to let go. Fine then.

She raised her chin and met his eyes directly. ‘I got arrested.’

He shrugged. ‘So?’

‘Three times.’

‘Oh.’

‘In one year.’

He gave a low whistle. ‘Right. But getting arrested doesn’t get you into Cimmeria. This isn’t a reform school. Why are you here?’

Stung, Allie could feel her temper rising but she fought it back. ‘To be honest, I have no idea. My parents told me that I was coming here, and a few days later here I was. They said it specialises in kids like me. Whatever that means.’

‘Interesting.’ He studied her curiously, as if she were a puzzling display in a museum cabinet.

She shot him a sharp look. ‘Why is it interesting?’

‘Troubled kids do come here, but not in the summer term. All the summer term students are in advanced studies.’

A flash of resentment shot through her and she glared at him.

Do I have ‘too stupid to be here’ tattooed on my forehead?

She stacked her books in angry piles. ‘I guess it’s impossible to consider the idea that I might be clever. And troubled.’ She spat the last word out. ‘Well, then I better get on with studying, right? I’ll have to really work hard to keep up with all you geniuses.’

‘Hey.’ He looked startled. ‘Don’t be so sensitive. I’m just trying to figure you out.’

And that was all it took. After Katie and Jules and Zelazny, her parents and the police, she’d had it. She shoved the books into her bag and spun around to face him.

‘Well don’t. OK? Don’t try to figure me out. Don’t try to analyse me. And, while you’re at it, stop insulting me. You see me in class and overhear a conversation and think you know me. But, believe me, you know nothing about me.’

She stormed out of the library and ran up the stairs.

… thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four steps …

She just made it to her room before the storm hit. The bag dropped from her nerveless fingers, and leaning back against the door she slid down to the floor. With her face buried in her hands she sobbed quietly. Why was she here? Everybody treated her like the village idiot who’d slipped in when the guard’s back was turned. She could feel her breath growing shallow and she fought back a panic attack, but the edges of her vision started to go black.

She counted her breaths, the boards on the wooden floor, the books on the shelves, and the panes of glass in the window until she felt herself regain control, and her sight began to return to normal.

When she felt better, she climbed to her feet. Opening the door, she checked to see if the hall was empty before hurrying down to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. As she smoothed her hair back, the door opened and Jules walked in. Her eyes took in Allie’s tear-stained cheeks, and a worried look flashed across her face.

‘Hi Allie. How are you settling in?’

Allie didn’t feel like faking it. And she didn’t feel like talking about it either. She just wanted to be somewhere else.

‘Everything’s great, Jules.’ Her words dripped sarcasm but she couldn’t help it. ‘Everybody’s being so nice. It’s all just … great.’

Before Jules could react, she opened the door and ran down the hall.

She’d never felt more lonely in her life.

Allie awoke with a start, and sat up in the wooden chair. Her back was aching and the desk lamp was still on.

What time is it?

Her head foggy, she turned the alarm clock to face her. Two o’clock in the morning.

Must have fallen asleep at my desk.

She was sitting in front of the open window, a stack of papers spread out in front of her. After her meltdown she hadn’t been hungry, so she’d skipped dinner and stayed in her room to catch up on her reading.

The last thing she could remember was reading The Rules.

After finishing her homework, it had occurred to her that she’d never really read them, and she’d pulled the thick stack of paper out of the desk drawer. They were so strange and prescriptive that at first she couldn’t believe what she was reading.

Welcome Allie.

Cimmeria Academy is a unique place in which to learn, and we are very glad to have you here among us. The school has, for many years, operated according to rules set out long ago by its founders.

Follow these Rules closely, and your time here will be memorable and pleasant. Fail to follow these Rules, and your time at Cimmeria may be very brief indeed.

Cimmeria Academy Rules:

1. The day begins at 7 a.m. and ends no later than 11 p.m. Outside of those hours you must be in your dormitory.

2. The woods around the school can be dangerous; students are forbidden to enter them alone or after dark.

3. No student may leave the school grounds without permission.

4. The teachers’ wing is off-limits.

5. Students in certain advanced areas of study take part in Night School. Only a very few, select students are offered this opportunity; if you are not among them, you must not attempt to interfere with or observe Night School. Anyone attempting to do so will be expelled.

6. The identities of those involved in Night School are secret. Anyone who attempts to find out their identities will be punished.

7. ALL Night School activities are secret. Any member of Night School found to be divulging the details of those activities will be punished severely.

Suddenly she heard again the noise that must have awakened her. It was a kind of scrabbling on the roof. She switched off the lamp and moved the papers aside so that she could climb up on the desk and look out.

At first she heard nothing, and then in the distance a shout. Then a few seconds later, a faint scream. Allie leaned forward to peer into the darkness. There was no moon tonight, and clouds obscured the stars. She could see only darkness. Suddenly, very nearby, a noise – a creaking sound, like footsteps on old wood.

What the hell was that? Whatever it was, it was on the roof.

Down below, she thought she saw something dart across the grass into the woods. She held her breath to listen. Was that … laughter?

After a few minutes she heard a voice whisper so faintly she wasn’t sure she hadn’t imagined it: ‘It’s OK, Allie. Go to sleep.’

She looked around the room. She was alone. She shook her head fiercely, trying to determine if she was awake or asleep.

‘I’m going insane,’ she muttered, and closed the window, locking it firmly, before climbing into bed.

As she fell back asleep, she could have sworn she heard the same voice chuckle very faintly.