Chapter 1
Once upon a time someone asked me my greatest fear. At the time I laughed and said spiders. Now looking back, that’s not my greatest fear. Yeah spiders still creep my out but they aren’t the things I’m most afraid of. What I’m most of afraid is a pretty common fear. I suffer from philophobia, the fear of falling in love. I’m terrified of it; I never have been able to fall in love. Every time there was a guy I got close to and started to think I loved him I’d freak out and either end it with him, or cause him to break up with me. I never thought I’d fall in love, I was too scared. Until I met him….
It all started when I moved to Beaverton, Alabama. My dad’s company moved him out there, they were tired of having perpetually drunk managers. The pay was great, but my dad didn’t want to move. My goal in life was to be a dancer, my parents had put me in dance classes since I was two year old. We had moved to New York and I had been going to school for dance since I was old enough to attend. My whole life has been centered around dance. And this move, was not in the plan, but who would pass up a $30,000 pay raise?
So here I am, walking into my new first period, I miss my old one Pointe IV. Now I’m in calculus II, and I hate math…. great. I knock on the door, yes I’m late. My old school was barely five blocks away, I could wake up thirty minutes before school and make it there on time, here, I have to drive thirty minutes just to get to school, and add in the time it took to find this class, let’s just say I’m really late.
“Hi are you are the new student?” The teacher says.
“Yes I’m Rosalynn Evans.” I smile. I suck at math, I always try to make a good impression with math teachers so they’ll cut me some slack. The students in the class stare at me. I think I’m over dressed. At my old school we had uniforms, but outside of school I the most random things, I don’t have a set style. I just wear what I like. I lived in New York my whole life, everyday is a fashion show. I’d go from punk to preppy to anything. I don’t think these small town kids are used to seeing a girl with brown hair dressed like a vampire princes mixed with Disney princess.
“Nice to meet you.” She says as I follow her into the class. Wow this class is small, my school may have been private but even we had more kids than this. The teacher points me to an empty desk. There’s only one person near me. It’s a guy; he’s sitting there and reading. As I walk to the desk beside him I glance at the title. Jay’s Journal by Anonymous, I love that book.
“Good book.” I say as I walk to my new desk. The boy looks up at me with forest green eyes surprised.
“Um thanks.” He says giving me an odd look. He probably didn’t notice me walk in, being as absorbed in his book as he was. But hey, it’s a great book, you can’t blame him. I sit down beside him and turn my attention to the teacher. Great they’re just learning Squeeze Principal, jesus they’re hella behind. I sigh and pull a book out of my bag, The Witching Hour by Anne Rice. I start reading as the guy beside me taps my arm.
“Good book.” He says. I smile.
“Thanks. You read it?” He nods.
“Yeah I’ve read all her books. My mom had me read Interview with the Vampire when I was ten, then I was hooked.”
“All of them? Even her Roquelaure and Rampling books?” He blushes, and I bite my tongue to hold back the laugh.
“I actually did. I didn’t know what they were about at first, I was only twelve when I read them.” He coughs and looks away. It’s not everyday some asks you if you’ve read BDSM books. I turn back to my book still mentally laughing at the thought of the little twelve year old him reading those books. “So are you new here?” He asks.
“Huh? Yeah I just moved here from New York.” I say. His eyes widen.
“Really? So you’re a city girl huh?” I nod.
“Yeah.” He nods and turns back to his book. I look at him for a moment then turn back to my book. After a while the bell rings and I get up and pull out my schedule. Art IV in room 103. I grab my bag and walk out into the hallway. I turn looking for something that will help me get to my class. I start walking down the hallway and suddenly my feet come out from under me. I hit my head against the lockers and find my arms and legs tangled with someone else’s.
“Jesus walk much?” I hear a familiar voice say, it’s the guy I met in Math class.
“Not usually.” I say darkly as I untangle myself and start grabbing my stuff. Shit my dance stuff fell out of my bag. I reach for my pointe shoes but the boy grabs them first.
“What are these?” Everyone is looking at us, I grab my shoes out of his hand.
“They’re pointe shoes. For dancing you know?” He gives me a look.
“You dance?” He sneers. I glare at him, I hate it when people bash on dancing.
“Yes I do.” I snap defensively. I grab my leotard, and my CDs with my music on them, and my other stuff that fell and rush out of the building. I go into the next one, thank god it’s the 100 building. I find my class and sit down and the teacher starts introductions.
It all started when I moved to Beaverton, Alabama. My dad’s company moved him out there, they were tired of having perpetually drunk managers. The pay was great, but my dad didn’t want to move. My goal in life was to be a dancer, my parents had put me in dance classes since I was two year old. We had moved to New York and I had been going to school for dance since I was old enough to attend. My whole life has been centered around dance. And this move, was not in the plan, but who would pass up a $30,000 pay raise?
So here I am, walking into my new first period, I miss my old one Pointe IV. Now I’m in calculus II, and I hate math…. great. I knock on the door, yes I’m late. My old school was barely five blocks away, I could wake up thirty minutes before school and make it there on time, here, I have to drive thirty minutes just to get to school, and add in the time it took to find this class, let’s just say I’m really late.
“Hi are you are the new student?” The teacher says.
“Yes I’m Rosalynn Evans.” I smile. I suck at math, I always try to make a good impression with math teachers so they’ll cut me some slack. The students in the class stare at me. I think I’m over dressed. At my old school we had uniforms, but outside of school I the most random things, I don’t have a set style. I just wear what I like. I lived in New York my whole life, everyday is a fashion show. I’d go from punk to preppy to anything. I don’t think these small town kids are used to seeing a girl with brown hair dressed like a vampire princes mixed with Disney princess.
“Nice to meet you.” She says as I follow her into the class. Wow this class is small, my school may have been private but even we had more kids than this. The teacher points me to an empty desk. There’s only one person near me. It’s a guy; he’s sitting there and reading. As I walk to the desk beside him I glance at the title. Jay’s Journal by Anonymous, I love that book.
“Good book.” I say as I walk to my new desk. The boy looks up at me with forest green eyes surprised.
“Um thanks.” He says giving me an odd look. He probably didn’t notice me walk in, being as absorbed in his book as he was. But hey, it’s a great book, you can’t blame him. I sit down beside him and turn my attention to the teacher. Great they’re just learning Squeeze Principal, jesus they’re hella behind. I sigh and pull a book out of my bag, The Witching Hour by Anne Rice. I start reading as the guy beside me taps my arm.
“Good book.” He says. I smile.
“Thanks. You read it?” He nods.
“Yeah I’ve read all her books. My mom had me read Interview with the Vampire when I was ten, then I was hooked.”
“All of them? Even her Roquelaure and Rampling books?” He blushes, and I bite my tongue to hold back the laugh.
“I actually did. I didn’t know what they were about at first, I was only twelve when I read them.” He coughs and looks away. It’s not everyday some asks you if you’ve read BDSM books. I turn back to my book still mentally laughing at the thought of the little twelve year old him reading those books. “So are you new here?” He asks.
“Huh? Yeah I just moved here from New York.” I say. His eyes widen.
“Really? So you’re a city girl huh?” I nod.
“Yeah.” He nods and turns back to his book. I look at him for a moment then turn back to my book. After a while the bell rings and I get up and pull out my schedule. Art IV in room 103. I grab my bag and walk out into the hallway. I turn looking for something that will help me get to my class. I start walking down the hallway and suddenly my feet come out from under me. I hit my head against the lockers and find my arms and legs tangled with someone else’s.
“Jesus walk much?” I hear a familiar voice say, it’s the guy I met in Math class.
“Not usually.” I say darkly as I untangle myself and start grabbing my stuff. Shit my dance stuff fell out of my bag. I reach for my pointe shoes but the boy grabs them first.
“What are these?” Everyone is looking at us, I grab my shoes out of his hand.
“They’re pointe shoes. For dancing you know?” He gives me a look.
“You dance?” He sneers. I glare at him, I hate it when people bash on dancing.
“Yes I do.” I snap defensively. I grab my leotard, and my CDs with my music on them, and my other stuff that fell and rush out of the building. I go into the next one, thank god it’s the 100 building. I find my class and sit down and the teacher starts introductions.