Page 5 of Forbidden Hunger

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We’re practicing pirouettes,whirling across the dance floor one after another. The trick is to fix your eyes on a spot ahead of you, and let that anchor you while the rest of your body spins.

I know how to do them; I’ve been dancing since I was four years old. But this afternoon, my concentration is shot. When it’s my turn, I only manage three turns before I lose my balance and my footing.

“Miss Smith.” Madame Ellis’s voice slices the room like a knife. “May I remind you that you are here on scholarship, and your continued attendance is contingent upon you demonstrating your worthiness. I advise you to do better.”

“Yes, Madame,” I mumble. I don’t look at the other girls, even Eden, as I get in line to try again. It’s humiliating enough to be so poor that I have to wear my best friend’s hand-me-down clothing if I don’t want to stand out like a sore thumb in the big city. Being called out in front of the school is even worse.

Madame Ellis is supportive, but she’s tough. She doesn’t hesitate to kick our asses when we need it, and I know I’m not measuring up right now.

Focus, Tori. No doubt every student here has distractions of one kind or another. The mark of a professional dancer is being able to shut it all out, whatever life throws at you, and lose yourself in the music, in the moment, in the discipline.

So that’s what I do. When it’s my turn, I execute a series of flawless pirouettes across the floor, my head snapping around at the last instant to find the spot I’m staring at once more. Madame Ellis doesn’t say anything, but I can feel her silent approval.

I get through the rest of my classes the same way. Ruthlessly blocking out my worries, I only let in the demands of technique. Leaping, bending, twirling, mincing en pointe across the floor, I throw myself into practicing as if my life depends on it.

Because it does.

This is all I’ve ever wanted. Since I was three years old, and my parents took me to a local production of The Nutcracker, this has been my dream. I’ve given up everything else to get here, and my parents have done everything they could to help me, never wavering in their support.

If I lose this, I have nothing. I am nothing. Letting myself down, letting my parents down … it’s unthinkable.

Usually this is my favorite place on earth, and the day goes by in a blink because I love what I’m doing so much. Today, I’m relieved when classes are finally over. As I follow Eden outside, the facts I’ve been avoiding all afternoon start tying my stomach in knots.

“This will be fun,” Eden says as we climb into the car. “We’ll be able to see each other whenever we want.”

I summon up a smile. “Because we don’t see each other all day long already,” I tease her.

“Yes, but then we’re working. This will be like an extended slumber party.”

I keep smiling, hoping it’s not too obviously fake. I’m grateful to Eden for asking if I could stay with her and her father. Without that, I’d be homeless tonight.

But part of me would rather sleep on the streets.

I don’t know what I’ve done to make Mr. Drake dislike me, but it was plain as day that he didn’t want to say yes. The whole time we were eating lunch, he kept watching me, with a brooding expression that set my nerves on edge.

Does he think I’m not good enough for Eden? I’m not, of course. Mr. Drake has his own high-powered law firm, tending to the rich and powerful people of the city. I have nothing to offer his daughter but loyalty.

I’ve never gotten that impression from him before, that he looks down on me. But there’s no denying that having me live with him is not exactly high on his list of things to do.

Shoving my dark thoughts away, I comfort myself as I often do, watching the city while the car makes its way through the traffic. Even after all this time in New York, I’m still dazzled by it.

I love my family, and I miss them. But in some ways, New York feels more like home than home ever has.

Soon, we arrive at the Drakes’ apartment building. “I’ll give you the passcodes,” Eden says. “You need to memorize them, though, not carry them around written down.”

“Right. Will do.” I follow her inside, still trying to figure out some way around this arrangement.

My parents are barely hanging on after an early frost damaged their crop, so they can’t help. If I tried to work an outside job, my dancing would suffer, which would defeat the whole purpose of being at the Institute.

I don’t see any way I can afford another place of my own, even if I found another roommate. And after my experience with Heidi, I’m not exactly eager to trust another stranger.

I’ll just have to make the best of it, and somehow persuade Mr. Drake that I won’t be a burden.

As we go into the apartment, I look at it with new eyes. Floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the city, original art on the walls, rich upholstery fabrics, hand-woven rugs … this is how the other side lives. How I’ll be living, now.

The apartment doesn’t scream money; it whispers it, with the confidence that comes from not needing to flaunt anything. It’s huge, too. The tiny apartment that Heidi and I shared would fit into one small corner of the living room.

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