Chapter 1

At morning assembly, before the last name on the competition roster was announced, I stood beside my butler, Wesley Grant. He held an umbrella over me while I touched up my makeup.

"Tilt it more this way. I just fixed my face. Don't let the rain ruin it."

Wesley sighed and tipped the umbrella my way.

Students kept drifting past to look at me and whisper to each other.

Our dean of students, Andrew Miller, stood behind me, scowling and clutching the funding agreement.

"Merida, you think you can do whatever you want!

"Doing your makeup right in front of me!"

He kept shouting, but I tuned him out.

His face darkened.

"Your family must have lined up a new school for you already. This one is going bankrupt, and you don't care at all!"

I looked up at him standing there in the rain.

"Do you have any idea how much this makeup costs?

"If the rain ruins it, are you going to pay for it?"

The dean had nothing to say to that.

Minerva, the top student in our grade, came over and snatched the lipstick out of my hand.

"Mr. Miller, don't waste your breath on her. She's all boobs and no brains. She isn't worth it.

"If her makeup gets ruined, she'll complain about it all day and drive us all crazy.

"Forget her. The competition matters more."

Then she twisted up the lipstick and dragged it across my cheek.

I didn't get out of the way in time, and my face was a mess.

Humiliated, I snapped, "Minerva! You did that on purpose!"

The students watching burst out laughing.

One of the boys said, "It's so satisfying to watch the top student put her in her place!"

Minerva handed the lipstick back with a sneer. "There. Blend it out with a sponge and use it as blush.

"Everyone else is stressed out over this competition. Nobody has time to babysit you."

I checked myself in the mirror.

"Blush? If I blend that out, I'll look like a baboon's butt!"

Minerva glared at me again, lost her patience, and snatched the umbrella from Wesley's hand.

The rain ruined my makeup all over again.

All the students around me were jeering.

"Even a pretty face turns into a mess when her makeup runs!"

"Hahaha, look how ugly she is now!"

I knew Minerva hated me.

At last week's school dance, she'd cut the heels of my shoes to different heights.

I put them on and fell flat on my face in front of everyone.

Up on the platform, our principal, David Mercer, went over the funding agreement with the whole school yet again. He had dark circles under his eyes.

"If we don't win this invitational, the school will go bankrupt and you'll have nowhere to go."

He had said it so many times I was sick of hearing it.

The teachers had argued themselves red in the face over this.

They had poured all their energy into coaching the three best students in our grade and studying past ten-event competitions for patterns.

But our teachers couldn't match those at Rockford, which had won nine years running.

The best teachers had already been poached.

At least the roster we submitted came back approved.

All three students we had chosen were on it, including Minerva, the best in the school.