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I lower the yearbook to the table and we continue to study the photos. Sophie points to one of the dancers, who seems to be the star member. “She looks so familiar, doesn’t she?”

I examine her closer. “Yeah, she does. You think she’s someone’s sister or cousin here?” I turn a page so we can see the names of the members.

“Oh my gosh, no way!” Sophie says.

“What?”

“There.” She points to a name. “Elena Moreno. Miss Moreno!”

“As in, the art teacher?”

“Yes! She was on the Harrington Bay Academy dance team.”

“And not only that!” I turn to the page that features her in a stunning pose. “She was the best dancer.”

“That’s so cool to see what teachers were like when they were our age. I’ve always loved Miss Moreno and think she’s such a great teacher, and it’s awesome to see how talented she is.”

“Oh my gosh, this is fate,” I gush. “She’s the coach I’ve been looking for.”

“Huh?” Sophie asks.

“Harrington said I need to find a coach for the dance team or we can’t have one. I thought I would have to beg or bribe a teacher to do it, but here she is.”

“Assuming she wants to do it.”

“Why wouldn’t she? You think she’s still in the art room? I want to catch her before she leaves.” I jump to my feet and start gathering my stuff. “See you later, Soph.”

“Good luck!”

I give her a quick hug and dash out of the library, racing to the art room. I burst inside and trip over my feet, slamming right into one of the easels. The thing collapses on top of me.

“Oh my gosh,” Miss Moreno’s voice gasps. Then the easel is lifted off me. “Carly? Are you okay? What happened?”

“Um…heh…” I look up at her and rub the side of my face that was struck by the easel. “Too much excitement inside this wee body of mine?” She helps me to my feet and I say, “Sorry. I wanted to catch you before you left.”

“You didn’t have to rush,” she says as she goes to gather some paintbrushes. “I usually stay a few hours after school to clean up.”

“I thought a student usually does that.”

She laughs lightly. “I don’t have any volunteers.”

Miss Moreno has beautiful dark wavy hair that rests freely on her shoulders. It’s kind of wild, but in a totally kickbutt way. It perfectly matches her personality—she’s very expressive and encourages her students not to hold back anything on their artwork. I have one class with her, and I really suck at it. But she’s always such an inspiration for my dancing.

“I can help you clean up while I talk to you about something,” I offer.

“Thanks, Carly. I have a meeting in a few hours and would like to get home as soon as possible.”

From the way her eyes light up, I bet this “meeting” is really a date. That’s so cute.

“So what do you want to talk to me about?” she asks as we tidy up the room.

“I want to start a dance club, but Principal Harrington told me I need a coach. A teacher or faculty member. I was looking through some old yearbooks and found yours. I had no idea you were on the school dance team, Miss Moreno. And not only that! You were like the best dancer.”

She laughs, her cheeks slightly red. “Oh, I wasn’t that good.”

“Don’t be modest. Your team won nationals.”

A grin crawls onto her lips as she gets a faraway look in her eyes. “We did.” She lowers herself on a chair and says, “That feels like so long ago.”