“That won’t be a problem,” I said with confidence.
He glanced at the folder in front of him. “I see that you’ve only taken one foreign language class – French Terminology in Ballet?” He let out a loud sigh. “Most of our students start as soon as they enter school, you only have two years to-”
“I speak Russian,” I informed him. “That’s what my grandmother spoke at home, so I had to take English as a second language when I started in school to catch up with the rest of the kids. I’d say I’m doing pretty well at it if you didn’t even realize English was my second language.”
The headmaster flushed. “You’re here because your father agreed to pay four years of tuition fees instead of two, and he made a very generous donation to our endowment.”
He watched for my reaction, but I wasn’t surprised. Richard already told me that he’d given them money to put a ballet program in place for me.
It seemed wrong not to correct the headmaster that Richard wasn’t my father, but I knew how men like this worked. If Richard wrote a large check and stated that I was his daughter, then this guy would call me Miss Wilder. Whatever I said wouldn’t matter, not when Richard was the one with the checkbook. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Richard telling people he was my father. I knew he was doing it to be nice, but it felt weird considering that I barely knew the guy, and we weren’t related at all.
Satisfied with my silence, the headmaster continued. “You have a little over two months to catch up to where you need to be to start classes as a junior,” he informed me. “I’ve sent your father’s assistant a list of appropriate tutors who would be able to get you up to speed, but you are going to have to work hard to avoid failing out of my school.”
I nodded. As much as I would prefer to go to a ballet school instead, this guy’s attitude was bugging me. I didn’t like him insinuating that I was too stupid to be here, and my competitive streak was urging me to prove him wrong. I always rose to every challenge I was given, and being an underdog wasn’t anything new to me. I always needed to work hard to be the best in a school full of other dancers who had parents with big pocketbooks. It felt odd to be the student whose parent bought their way in, but I would prove that I belonged here just as much as any other student.
“And what about ballet?” I challenged him. “I’m coming from one of the best schools in the country. I’m not sure your program can compare.”
Headmaster Rufford gave me a hard look. “Our goal here is to prepare our students to go onto college, where they will continue to be molded into the most influential men and women of their generation. Ballet is a hobby, not a career.”
I fumed but lifted my chin at an arrogant angle. “And doesn’t your school promise their students the best? Why would you offer anything at a subpar level?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “We’ll have a program in place for you by the end of August, but be warned that I do not tolerate academic laziness in favor of sports. Not even for Wilders.”
I gave him a sharp nod. “Understood.”
We faced off for another moment before he changed the subject. “I’m sure you already know that this is a boarding school with a significant number of full-time residents,” he stated.
I blinked in surprise. I hadn’t known that at all, but I guess that made sense. This place was more extensive than many college campuses, so they would need to recruit from more than just Bedford to fill it with wealthy students.
“I’ve already arranged for one of our students still on campus to give you a tour,” the headmaster informed me. I smiled in relief, glad that this unpleasant interview was coming to an end. We stood, and he waved me through the door ahead of him.
“Abigail,” he greeted a girl about my age. “I’m glad you’re free this morning. This is our newest student, Ekaterina Wilder.”
“I go by Katya,” I told her with a smile. While Ekaterina was a common name in Russia, most Americans would consider it odd. Not that some of them didn’t also think Katya was strange, but at least most people could pronounce it correctly.
“How about Kat?” she said cheerfully. “I’m Abby.”
“Um, okay,” I agreed hesitantly. The guys already mocked me by calling me a kitten. Did I want the whole school calling me Kat?
“Awesome!” she said sunnily. I could already tell that Abby was far more bubbly than anyone else I’d ever met. “Headmaster Rufford, I can take it from here,” she said with a grin.
Abby linked arms with me and pulled me out of the office with her. “You’re absolutely gorgeous,” she giggled. “I’m pretty sure most of the guys are going to fall in love with you the first week.”
“Uhhh, thanks?”
She giggled again, and I took a moment to take her in. She was wearing a typical school uniform with a plaid skirt, a white button-down shirt, and a fitted navy blazer. At least I wouldn’t have to stress out about what I was going to wear every day.
Abby’s fun attitude was infectious, and I found myself smiling along with her. “Are you sure they aren’t already in love with you?” I teased her.
Abby had blond hair that fell in shiny waves down to her waist and huge green eyes. Her hourglass figure had plenty
