Chapter One

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Jaxdyn

I'd be lying if I said being homeschooled by your parents was amazing. There's no after school activities, no football games, no friends to pass the classes by. It's just you, and the lessons your mother creates for you to watch DVD's about while they work full time jobs, go on small vacations (business trips), or spend their free time relaxing and discussing the company (excluding me).

"Jax, cher. Menton, le dos droit et les orteils! Monter! (Jax, dear. Chin up, back straight, and toes! Go up.)" Madame Daylea said sharply, lifting her palms to the ceiling.

"Je suis désolé. (I'm sorry.)" I complied and fixed my form.

"Qu'est-ce qui te prend? Cette routine doit être parfait si vous voulez entrer dans Julliard. (What's gotten into you? This routine has to be perfect if you want to get into Juilliard.)"

"Juste à y penser. (Just thinking.)"

"Commençons par le début. (Start from the beginning.)" As I moved effortlessly to the centre of the floor I thought of my next class assignment that I would have to complete later this evening.

Speaking in fluent French, I spoke, "Que faire si je ne reçois pas accepté de Juilliard? Alors quoi? Ma vie sera terminée. (What if I don't get accepted to Juilliard? What then? My life will be over.)"

"Arrêtez d'être si dramatique. Vous savez que vous êtes le meilleur danseur de ce côté du pays. (Stop being so dramatic. You know you're the best dancer on this side of the country.)" Madame Daylea said. Day and I are the only ones who speak French to each other. The other students won't know what we're talking about then, and we can have our own private conversations. I spend most of my time doing ballet. It's my escape. My freedom. I mean, what else do I have. I'm an only child, my parents are always away from home or away from me, and I have no friends from school, no neighbors, and no one to talk to aside from Daylea, who's 68.

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⏰ Last updated: Dec 29, 2015 ⏰

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