Rock Prodigy

Chapter 39

Oh. My. God. Shock and awe, shock and awe. I realize, boy do i ever realize that it has been nearly a YEAR since I uploaded this story, that I left you hanging, that a bunch of you are going to begin reading this and say to yourself, "Okay, who is Rose again?" but hey, at least I posted it haha.

I hope you guys like it. I hope you're not disappointed by the ending...........

Also, I think I might do an epilogue because I'm thinking there might be a few questions left over so be on the lookout for that in the next year or so.

hahaaa just kidding. Hopefully soon.

Love you all! Thanks for staying faithful and for sending me heartwarming messages and being understandable about what a slacker I am! You da best!!!!

Sincerestly,

Julia :)

ENJOY!!!

Chapter 39

Three months later.

I sat in the middle of my empty living room, my fingers working fast to finish the last of the essay that needed to be e-mailed within the next thirty minutes. After a quick read-through, I hit the save button and sent it to Professor Adelaide, the business management teacher I’d never actually met.

I closed my laptop with a sigh of relief, happy to be done with the boring research paper that had my eyes drooping on more than one occasion. Had I once had a problem with insomnia? Business management had cured me of it, that’s for sure.

Looking up at the clock on the wall, I winced, knowing I was going to be late and I was still wearing my pyjamas.

I ran my fingers through my hair hastily, not really caring that I looked like I’d just rolled out of bed. At least I’d managed to put on a pair of jeans and a clean white t-shirt before I rushed out of the door, leaving my apartment building ten minutes later than I should have.

The streets of Chicago were busy at this time of day. It was around three in the afternoon and the streets were packed with school buses that were fighting with taxis and stressed out parents who had to juggle jobs and families at the same time. Lucky for me, the orphanage was just down the street from my apartment so I didn’t have to deal with rush hour on the bus.

I walked quickly with my head down, adjusting the ball cap so that it sat low over my eyes. My hair was pulled back and the ponytail tucked into the neck of my t-shirt in an attempt to keep anyone from recognizing me.

 “Sorry,” a guy mumbled as he bumped into my right side, heading in the opposite direction. He didn’t look up once as I stumbled, my left hand going to grab my right wrist instinctively, my fingers brushing along the thin scar that ran from my palm to halfway up my forearm. I gritted my teeth as I pushed forward, my fingers still brushing along the raised skin, touching the permanent line that had been drawn on my body marking two sides of my life. One side was the life I’d had with the band, with Mac, the life I’d loved more than I thought possible. The other side was this new life, the one where I was still figuring everything out, where I was still learning how to get along without a guitar in my hands or a band behind me.

I’m fine, I told myself, straightening my shoulders and continuing on my way, shaking my head to get thoughts of my old life out of my mind. They just messed me up, made me sad, made me want things I could never have again.

I was over it.

I was over him.

I took the steps at the orphanage two at a time, my long legs eating up the distance between the sidewalk and the double doors quickly.