"𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙪𝙣𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙."
Milaydie Lucero is sent to Rutherford Academy in hopes of finishing high school with a prestigious dance scholarship that she spent her life working for.
The last thing she needs is problems or boy drama...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Milaydie's POV.
-
Can you die from too much stress?
I have officially resorted to Google for an answer to this question.
I let out a sigh of relief when I find the answer. For your information, stress can't kill you but overtime it can cause damage that leads to premature death.
I am overfloated with homework and on top of that, I have only one week left before the Holiday dance recital, which only adds to my mental unstability.
The past few weeks since Thanksgiving break have passed pretty fast. I have yet to digest everything that I learned in this short weekend, but hey, how the fuck am I supposed to get over the fact that my father ran an illegal drug business?
I still wonder how he managed to hide all of this so well. I guess having a family that lives in Quebec, made it easier to run a racing rink and move a bunch of drugs in Ontario a little easier.
I also guess that it's why, I might've recognized this man at the rink when Reed and I went. Maybe he also worked with dad for the real estate business. I know mom hasn't told me all the details, but one thing she told me is that there were younger kids, my age, that were involved and it makes me sick.
I promised myself that when Reed takes me back to the rink, I will try to find some answers for me about all of this.
Why? How? When?
I don't really give a crap about my fathers death, especially if it was for something along the line of this. He wasn't a good person, that I am sure. I was just hurt because in the end, he is still my father.
Yeah, what my mom told me still is running through my thoughts tweenty-four-seven, and I want more than anything to just find out it was a stupid joke.
I know it isn't.
I continue to write this stupid english essay about respect, until my phone rings. I reach for it from my bedside table and turn it over to see who is calling me.
Maxwell<3, is the name I can read on my screen.
I almost jump over to answer his call. Reed and I are great, but if all this work wouldn't take my precious time away, I could be cuddling with my boyfriend right now.
I press the answer button and click on speaker, ''Hello stranger,'' I greet him, chewing on the little pink eraser on my pencil.
''Hi gorgeous, whatcha' doing?'' He asks, clearly bored out of his mind, ''I feel like I barely saw you this week.''