Dancaholic

5. Tessa Hall

This chapter is written in Tessa's point of view (POV). Hope you like it!

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This girl doesn't seem that bad. I mean, she's wearing sweatpants. I love sweatpants but I haven't found anyone else who shares the same interest in them. No wait, that sounds kinda wrong... Uhm... Well you know, someone else who likes sweatpants. Anywho, I tuck the note into my shorts pocket. Remember to show mum later, I mentally noted to myself.

"That's a nice name," she says.

Amber. That name sounds familiar. But where? Gosh, I hate this. I've heard the name before but I can't recall where I heard it.

"Thanks. What did you say your last name was, again?" I ask.

"Uh... I didn't say my last name," Amber said, while picking up her bag. "But Morgan. It's Morgan."

Morgan... Hmm... Oh, I know now!

"Hey, you're not the daughter of Rachel Morgan are you? The famous choreographer? I've heard that she lives here."

"Uh... Actually yeah," She replies vaguely.

"Yeah to what?"

"Both," she says simply. "Uh.. Do you mind...?" She trails off, pointing towards the door.

"Oh, no. Sorry."

I walk over to the door, Amber just a few steps behind me. Wow, I can't believe it. I've just met Rachel Morgan's daughter! This is amazing. Although, of course it would be better if I was meeting Rachel Morgan herself because I mean, who hasn't dreamt of meeting her? She's Rachel Morgan for crying out loud!

"Wow, it must be so cool to be her daughter!"

"I guess," she sighs.

"You know she was voted number one choreographer of the year in like 15 countries?! She's the most wanted choreographer in the history of forever! Even stars like Beyonce want her! I mean, imagine that, they'd probably even grovel at her feet if given the chance!" I rambled.

I probably would've been able to ramble on even longer than that if it weren't for the fact that Amber butted in, obviously annoyed.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. She's a great choreographer."

"The best! In like 15 countries!" I say, ignoring her sudden impatience.

Amber rolls her eyes. "Yeah, you said that. Look, is this going to take much longer because I have things to do?"

"Of course, sorry. And you'd probably already know that stuff about Rachel Morgan anyway because, I mean,she IS your mother after all!" Oh great, I'm starting to ramble again.

"Yeah, I do," Amber replied, rather coldly. "Is there anything else you want?"

"Uhm, nope, don't think so."

"Great. Ciao," Amber says, starting to walk over to a pink Toyota Corolla.

Then it dawned on me; she's probably trying to get away from me as fast as humanly possible. I don't really blame her. Guess it's kinda selfish of me to talk about her mother considering she's probably heard it a lot.

"Wait!" I yell, running after her. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" She asked, clearly confused.

"For talking about your mum so much."

"It's okay," She sighs. "I'm used to it."

"You probably get that a lot, huh?"

"Unfortunately, yup, more than you know."

And here I go blabbing my mouth off...

"Just because Rachel is my mother doesn't necessarily mean I want a lot of girls coming up to me and asking about her. It doesn't necessarily mean that I want to talk about Rachel all day, every day. Yeesh. Give me a break!" She practically screamed. "You have no idea how many people - especially wannabe dancers - come up to me and start talking about my mum. I'm not Rachel, don't ask me things about her 'cause I'm not going to tell you. My mother is Rachel, I am Amber. There is a difference. Learn it!"

She took out her keys and unlocked the door with the touch of a button. She walked over to - what I presume is - her car. Jeeze this girl loves pink.

"Wait!" She turned ever so slightly. Enough for me to know she was listening. "I'm sorry. That was unfair of me. I shouldn't have said anything."

"No you shouldn't have," I heard her mutter. "But there are a lot of things people shouldn't do yet they do them anyway."

She sounded like she was talking from experience.

"True that," I agree.

And with that, she opened up the car door and jumped in. I heard the engine start and she drove off. You see, everyone has something to hide. Everyone has something that they don't tell anyone. Whether it's the fact that they've hard a harsh life or whatever - there's a lot of things people could hide. You're probably curious as to what I'm hiding now, aren't you? Well that is a secret that I'll save for a rainy day.