say, surprising myselfâand Katie, who lets out a little squeak.
Jenna gives me an appraising look. âYes.â
I have to exercise anyway. But I can play it just as cool as she is. âFind me after your session with Dr. Lancaster.â
âOkay. I will.â
I turn back to Katie. âWhat are you going to make?â
Sheâs already cutting out a long strip of brown construction paper. âA balance beam, of course. How about you?â
âI donât know yet.â I flip page after page, looking for inspiration. And then I reach a perfume ad where the model seems to be staring right at me. Through me. Into me. I stare back, an idea forming. I cut out her eyes and put them off to the side.
The hour of cutting and pasting passes in a flash. When Andrew touches me on the shoulder to give me a five-minute warning, I startle, as if Iâm waking up.
âThatâs really interesting.â Heâs staring down at my collage.
I study what Iâve made. Thereâs a single small figure, in silhouette, floating in a sea of eyes. Blue eyes and green eyes and brown eyes. All shapes and sizes. Itâs . . . weird. Uncomfortable to look at for too long.
âIs interesting good?â I ask, smiling like I donât care one bit. Like his opinion doesnât matter. Like his presence behind me isnât enough to throw me for a loop, after what he said to me this morning about thinking Iâm pretty great.
âYeah. I canât wait to hear more about it.â
âAndrew? A little help?â Yasmin calls from the otherside of the room, where sheâs trying to peel off several pages that have been glued to the dining table.
Zoe looks pleased with herself. âYou didnât say I had to make my collage on paper ,â she drawls. âI was just expressing my feelings.â
âIf this damages the wood,â Yasmin says, âDr. Lancaster may have to call your parents.â
âDo it,â Zoe growls, eyes flashing. âCall âem.â
Dr. Lancaster walks in, glancing at the clock on the wall. âTime toâ Oh, Zoe.â Her face drops in disappointment. âEveryone, please take your collages to the Dogwood Room.â
âMy collage canât be moved,â Zoe says grandly. âDoes that mean I get to skip the next session?â
âNo.â Dr. Lancaster leans in close to the table, picking at one of the glued-on pages. âYasmin, Andrew, can you take care of this?â
They nod.
âZoe?â Dr. Lancaster steps to the side, extending her arm. Zoe stares her down. Dr. Lancaster doesnât budge. And finally, with an exaggerated sigh, Zoe trudges out of the room. The rest of us follow.
âDo you think sheâll get sent home?â Katie whispers to me, once weâre back seated in our folding-chair circle.
âOn the second day? Sheâll probably get a warning or something.â
I look over at Zoe. Dr. Lancaster is speaking to her in a low voice. Zoe rolls her eyes. âWhatever,â she says.
Dr. Lancaster addresses all of us. âZoe would like to say something.â
âWould I?â
âYes, Zoe, you would.â
âOh, fine. Iâm sorry for disrupting arts and crafts. I wonât do it again.â
She doesnât sound sorry. She sounds like sheâs plotting her next attack.
But Dr. Lancaster says mildly, âThank you, Zoe. I know it can be difficult to adapt to being here, even if you came by choiceââ
âOh, Iâm not here by choice.â
Dr. Lancaster gives her a considering look. âYou filled out the paperwork, along with your parents. Are you telling me you didnât consentââ
âYeah, I filled out your stupid questionnaire. I signed the forms. It was this place or tennis camp. I chose to come here. But that doesnât mean I want to be here. Or that I need to be here.â
The way she says