• Rosalie Olivia Woodsen finds herself in a fast-spinning tornado, as she enters her junior at a new high school, with millions of boys fawning over her natural looks that had never gotten her anywhere back in Ol’ New York. Not only boys, but a particular man, who she keeps telling herself is completely off limits, and is not flirting with her. Though, she soon finds out all his attempts—moving her seat for instance—is his silent call.

    Rosalie was a straight-A student, she had the highest GPA average at her old school, and her mother ruined it for her. Her father had gotten a new job in Lakewood, NJ. Her new school being: Calvary Academy. She could transfer in her junior year because she was that smart. Rosalie wasn’t like most girls, being she wasn’t a b***h, snob, or slut. Then what was she? Thankfully, Rosalie had taken all her traits from her mother Noelle, who goes by Elle. Elle was kind, energetic, down-to-earth, smart, and beautiful. At Rosalie’s old school everyone was the same, the girls were nice, sweet and kind, and they all wore uniforms. This is Rosalie’s first time—in all her life—going to a coed school, how will she cope?

    Not only does Rosalie have the teacher falling head-over-heels for her—the feeling being mutual—she’s also caught the eye of Mr. Nice Guy Mason Lavern. A story combining love, loss, and the forbidden fruit, made by yours truly.

    I stare at my reflection in the mirror that is hanging on the wall in the barren hallway that licked the kitchen. I—I being, Rosalie Olivia Woodsen, the new girl in the town of Lakewood, NJ—was only worrying about my appearance because I was the new girl in the town of Lakewood, NJ, and I was starting my first day at Calvary Academy. Lakewood, NJ was everything you’d expect from hearing the place’s name. It was a beautiful area, near the beach. The sky always seemed to be a pretty blue that you could call truthfully “Sky Blue” but the season was changing fast. From summer to fall and any person could see that. The leaves were changing color, the grass was loosing its lively shade, and the air itself lost its chlorine scent, and instead took up the earthy fragrance of pine.

    My new home was far off, isolated from the other houses, with a lot of land. The backyard seemed to go on for miles on end, and when it did finally stop, there was woods that blazed at the mouth of the backyard. The woods, my mom had told me, was ours, but she wasn’t too keen on having me go out there. But eventually I would, because I was one of those girls. I loved the outdoors, if I could be one with the wind, there’d be no story, I would have been long gone by now.
    “Rose, that you?”
    I should’ve been long gone, now I have to endure another one of Elle’s talks. Sometimes I think they aren’t my real parents, but then I see how much I take from Elle and I realize I’m mixing my “Thinks” with my “Dreams” because there’s no possible way I couldn’t be related to Elle.

    I walk into the kitchen with this new-found energy, though it exactly seven on the dot. I grab a banana at the bowl on the middle of the Island, and seat myself on the stool in front of the table.
    “You’re up early; you don’t have to be to your first class until eight-fifteen.”
    That’s right; I had gotten my schedule the first day we had gotten into town. I got my key to my locker too. I also—listen to this—laminated it, and made two copies, because I’m just that OCD about things like that.
    “I don’t want to be late.” I told her nonchalantly. “So, I better get going.” I stuffed the end of the banana into my mouth, and swallowed it whole.
    I stood up. “How do I look?”
    Elle hardly glanced over me. “Great, sweetheart.”
    “You’re just saying that!”
    This time she looked up. “You look great, Rose.”
    I sighed. “Alright, I’m off to school.”
    “Rosalie?” I stopped in my tracks, and turned to look at my mom. “I’m really glad you’re taking the move, and new school thing maturely.”
    I shrugged my shoulders. “What ever makes you guys happy, mak es me happy…where’s dad?”
    “He’s at work; his new hours are six to six.” Elle paused. “What do you say we go shopping when you come back from school, I need to decorate the house?”
    Now as fun as shopping with my mom sounds, she has this problem. When she says “we should go shopping,” she really means “Come with me, while I buy clothes and shoes for myself” a common disorder in mothers between the age of thirty-five and forty-five.
    “I’ll think about it.” I strolled of into the hallway, and grabbed my blazer off the hook. I reached down to grab my book bag, to find it not there. I must have left it in my bedroom. I climbed the stairs taking two at a time, and threw the white door open at the end of the hallway. The scent of my latest perfume—Coco Mademoiselle—filled my intake of breath. I didn’t hate my room, but I wasn’t in love with it. I mean yeah I liked it a lot, but I couldn’t be in love with something I had never gotten to know. I did, however, love all the green, most people would say that was kind of tom-boyish but I liked it, and that was all that mattered. Right where I had left it, next to my desk, sat my Lucky Brand messenger bag. I slid it over my shoulder, and ran back down the stairs and out the door without even the smallest of “Goodbyes” to my mother, just a over-the-shoulder look at my new home.

    I drove my escalade hybrid—I was an environmentalist—in the empty school parking lot. It was only seven-twenty…one now, so that would explain the bareness. I parked way in the back where there were a few cars, so my huge truck wouldn’t look out of place. I walked carefully—in my 4½ inch mary-janes—into Calvary Academy. The warm air thawed my frozen cheeks, from the early morning chill. The school was decent, alright more than decent. I had looked it up the night before. The school didn’t have uniforms because it believed in having the students “Express themselves freely” The school was rich enough to have central air, and a heating system, which explained the warmth. The school was huge, rooms placed in all different directions, and what not, but the classes I would be taking didn’t have me leaving the main building except for Physical Ed. when I had gym instead Sex Education, and for English and Literature, well and what ever other classes I had in room 19.

    I unlocked my—quite large—locker, and was amazed at the sight. My textbooks stood—binding out—on the first shelf. There were three hooks for me to hang my coats and book bag. I sat on the floor—pretzel legged style—and emptied my book bag of its contents—notebooks, binders, and loose leaf. I checked out my schedule, I had a ten minute break—I’m guessing to get my books—after homeroom. I was going to be early for class either way through. I stuffed Chanel planer into my bag, along with English and Literature binder, and my red marble notebook for math. I grabbed my Literature, and English text, and my math text. I made sure not to crush my green—favorite color—feathered pen. I figured with all the time I would have before class started that I’d have time to make a shopping list of what to put in there.

    Room twelve was right next to the exit to the second building, which was lucky for me because after I’d be going to room nineteen. I sat down in the front row, allowing my book bag to slump to the floor in front of my feet.
    Mrs. Ericson looked up, and jumped. “Oh, I didn’t know anyone was in here.” Her voice was melodic, like a young girl’s voice. She stood up straight and I got an eyeful of her. She was young…for a teacher at least. She had to-die-for blond hair, and blemish-free skin. Replacing wrinkles was a glow, the kind of glow that screamed “Just Married” and sure enough, on her ring finger, stood a crystal engagement ring, and three-diamonded ring.
    “Sorry, I should’ve said hello, or rather good morning, so um…Good morning, Mrs. Ericson.”
    She smiled. “Good morning; you’re new.” She stated it more than asked it.
    “It’s pretty obvious, I guess.”
    She beams. “In a good way, in a definite good way. Well you can go on to your next class; it shouldn’t be as boring as it is here. I’ll mark you down on the attendance sheet.”
    “I’ll see you later than,” I grab my book bag and try not to look awkward as Mrs. Ericson eyes me. I linger by the doorway to hear her murmur: “Such a nice girl, she’s going to be eaten alive.” I shrug my shoulders and continue my journey down the hall. The school’s starting to fill up now, and I take the time look at the people, whom are by their lockers, that are staring right on back at me to make sure no one had the same outfit on as me. They didn’t—if you wanted to know. They were wearing jeans—skinny, baggy, boot-cut—and tanks, and cami’s! To school? Wow, did I feel like the odd one out.
    “What are you wearing?” I was pulled out the main hallway into the girls’ bathroom.
    I gained my composure before speaking. “Hello, I’m Rose.”
    “What are you wearing?”
    “And you are?”
    “Jackie; what are you wearing?”
    “Uh, is that a trick question?”
    “The only question is what are you wearing?”
    “Is there something wrong with the way I’m dressed?”
    “Is there something wrong with the way your dressed? Hell yes! Is this really the statement you want to make on your first day?” I shifted on my heel—not because I was nervous or annoyed but because my feet were killing me!
    “How do you know this is my first day?” I question.
    “Because anyone who’s been going to this school would know that is definitely the statement you do not want to make on your first day back.”
    “What about you?” I roll my eyes over her outfit. She’s wearing cowboy boots, and yellow dress, with a nice brown, frilly, vest. Very western, chic; I wouldn’t have said anything about her clothes because they were nice, but if my clothes were out, so were hers. I needed to get around the school, especially before school actually started.
    “Well, I have to go, it was nice meeting you.” I called to her as I made my departure from the bathroom.
    “Mark my words, Rose.”
    I just had to meet the creep, didn’t I; now, on to room nineteen, hopefully I won’t have to worry about weird teachers, and creepy girls. Little did I know, I’d have to worry about a hot teacher, with feelings for one of his students?