Dinner was uneventful and soon it was time for Vice Principal Nero's dreaded recital. I sat between the Baudelaires and, of course, Klaus and I had to go for the same arm rest. My hand shot back into my lap and I tried my best not to huff at the series of awkward events that were occuring today.

Violet gave me a strange look but I ignored it, even when she raised an eyebrow and glanced between Klaus and I, both of us blushing messes. I wrung my hands and pretended not to notice.

Finally the lights dimmed and Nero took to the stage, grinning smugly before announcing his usual warning about giving him bags of candy if we left or weren't clapping loud enough. All I could do was roll my eyes; where were we even meant to get bags of candy from?

I always hated Nero's recital, as most Prufrock students did, but today I couldn't have asked for a better distraction. It was dark in the auditorium, no one was allowed to talk, and the piercing sound of a distressed violin was the perfect way to get me to stop thinking about things. The phrase "so loud I can't hear myself think" only, truly applied to situations like this.

About an hour later, the last note was painfully played and Nero bowed and giggled to himself before leaving the stage. The crowd of students once sitting silently, turned into a stampede and I took the opportunity to slip away before anything else awkward could happen today. Duncan rushed after me but we didn't speak until we had reached the door to the supply cupboard. Thats where Nero had moved us into ever since the Baudelaires started living in the Orphan Shack. It wasn't great having to sleep on the bare concrete floor with only a moth eaten blanket each to fight off the cold, but anything was an improvement to the dripping fungus and crabs.

The thought of the Baudelaires heading back to that horrid place made me feel bad: I hadn't even wished them goodnight. But before I could get too deep into my thoughts, Duncan spoke up.

"What's going on with you, Iz, you've been...different today."

I offered him a small, reassuring smile and told him I was fine. I appreciated his concern but this whole issue I was having wasn't even worth being discussed. I'd had a weird dream, it'd made me see things differently, it'd sent today into mayhem, but it was about to be over. Our mother always told us that things seem better once you sleep on them, and that's exactly what I was going to do. Sleep got me into this mess of emotions, and sleep would be the one to get me out again.

I said goodnight to Duncan (not forgetting to remind him to wake me up the next morning if the alarm failed to do so) and laid beneath my singular blanket. Soon everything dissolved around me as I closed my eyes and drifted off into sleep.

Suddenly, someone cleared their throat and my eyes shot open. I was back in Miss Bass' class, room 202, an array of items scattered on my desk, waiting to be bound by the metric system. But that's not what my eyes were focused on. Stood at the front of the room was none other than Carmelita Spats, her prufrock uniform bedazzled. She was holding a hot pink, sequined clipboard and hit it on Miss Bass' desk a couple of times to gather everyone's attention.

"Right cakesniffers, I have extremely good news," she announced, looking around the room with that maniacal smile of hers, "for me, I mean. Why would it be good news for you?"

Carmelita paused for a second, possibly to make sure we were all listening, possibly so she could check her reflection in her shiny clipboard.

"We're having a play!" she squealed with enough enthusiasm to make up for the lack of it in the room, "I'm directing it of course and playing the main role."

I rolled my eyes. Of course she would take all the main jobs. She wouldn't be Carmelita otherwise. Deciding this had nothing to do with me, I rested my head on my desk. For some reason I was extremely tired all of a sudden.

It was only when someone shouted, "Isadora!" that my head snapped back up. But I was no longer in the classroom. The dull ceiling and shelves of office supplies came into view as my eyes adjusted to the half light in the room.

"God, Isadora," Duncan complained, "I've been calling you for ages and you just wouldn't wake up."

I slowly sat up and rubbed my eyes, "Sorry, I don't know why the alarm suddenly doesn't work for me."

At that, I gathered my uniform and headed for the bathrooms so I could shower. I relished in the fact that there wasn't many other girls there and took an extra long one, just because I could.

As the water ran down my skin I thought back to last night's dream. The shower was usually my favourite place to think but this morning there was almost nothing to think about. Compared to the night before, last night's dream had been boring. It was just Carmelita being Carmelita. There was absolutely nothing special about it whatsoever. I couldn't help but be disappointed.

Surprised, I corrected myself, why would I want another confusing dream about Klaus?

As his name came into my mind I felt a weird feeling in my stomach. I'm hungry, I decided, and shut off the water before drying off and heading to breakfast. It seemed as though I was one of the last to arrive and I grabbed whatever food was leftover and approached my usual table.

I headed over, glancing over Duncan and Violet, and finally letting my gaze fall on Klaus. Klaus.

That strange feeling returned and I froze, our normally friendly table emitting an intimidating aroma. Duncan glanced up from his cereal and caught my eye, his brow furrowing and head falling into a slight tilt. He mouthed, "you okay?" and I forced myself to keep walking towards them. The confused expression didn't leave my brother's face, not even after I had sat down beside Klaus. Not wanting a confrontation, I quickly tried to integrate into the Baudelaire's conversation, leaving Duncan looking concerned. I could answer his questions later but for now I needed to figure out how to make the feeling in my stomach go away. It stayed even as I gulped down my breakfast and a glass of water, and remained with me even as I took my seat in room 202 and the first lesson of the day started.

I had barely spoken a word to Klaus this morning. For some reason the words always froze on my tongue and my stomach plummeted, meaning I basically had to ignore him for the fear of throwing up. I didn't understand why I felt like that. It wasn't like I had dreamt of him again, so why was his presence making me like this? I thought sleeping on it would make everything go back to normal but somehow it made it worse. If things continued like this, by tomorrow I would be passing out every time we made eye contact. It already felt similar to that when our gazes crossed paths, so I dread to think how bad it would be if I let this escalate. I decided I needed a plan but, just as I was pulling out my commonplace book to try and scope things out, the door swung open and in tapped Carmelita Spats.

Her bedazzled uniform caught the light like she was a disco ball and reflected over the entirety of the walls and ceiling. I felt a rush of deja vu flood over me as I noticed the sparkly pink clipboard clasped in her hand and the excited glint in her eye as she paused at the front of the classroom.

"Miss Spats," Miss Bass started, her normal drawl replaced with a slightly higher pitched version, "You're late an-"

"Shut up, cakesniffer! A superstar like myself is never late. And even if I was," Carmelita said, giving her best model-like pose, "I would be considered fashionably-late, unlike all you ill-dressed idiots."

Carmelita's outburst was enough to silence Miss Bass and she let her keep going. Whether it was because she was afraid of the red-headed girl or if she simply didn't care, was something I couldn't figure out. But nevertheless, Miss Bass plonked down behind her desk while Carmelita straightened out the hot pink bow in her hair and smirked at us all.

"Cakesniffers," she began, "I have very exciting news. Since I'm so extremely talented in every aspect of life, I was recently scouted by many acting agencies. They tried to give me training but they realised I was simply too good for them. I mean, it's not my fault I was born better than anyone else in the entire world," she let out a sickly sweet giggle before continuing, "anyway, to show you cakesniffers exactly what you're missing out on, I've decided to do a play!"

As she stated her announcement, I felt a shiver go up my spine. What was going on with these weirdly accurate dreams I was having recently? This must be how people become clairvoyants, I thought to myself.

But Carmelita wasn't finished, "Because I'm the most adorable girl in the entire world, I've chosen who will play each of the roles. My play is a modern love story and I, of course, am the innocent female lead, seduced by our lustful, desperate, male lead played by..." Carmelita squinted at her clipboard, obviously struggling to read her own handwriting, "C- Ca- Cl- ugh whatever, it's that cakesniffing Baudelaire orphan boy."

My eyes widened in shock and despite me trying my best to stop it, I audibly gasped. Carmelita continued to rattle off jobs for everyone, choosing to give me the role of the priest that weds the two lead characters in the final scene. She then went around and dropped a script on each of our tables before leaving to give the announcement to Mr Remora's class in room 201.

Miss Bass had somehow fallen asleep, her head resting on top of a pot noodle, so the class erupted in chatter, some students excited and some confused. But I felt sick to my stomach. Why? Because wedding ceremonies end in a kiss.