"Hurry up Kelsea! You're going to be late for rehearsal!" My mom yelled from downstairs.
"I'll be right down!" I yelled back.
My name is Kelsea Anderson. I'm 17. I just granduated high school and dance is basically my life. I've been taking classes, competing, and performing since I was 4. At first I was sort of being forced to do it, but know I have what you might call an unreplacable love for it.
"Finally." My mom sighed as I made my way down the stairs.
Ever since her and my dad divorced when I was 13, she has been very bosy and pushy when it came to school and dance. In fact, when I was apply for colleges she made apply to them all in New York City, which is my home town... but little does she know, I applied to one in London.
"I'll pick you up at 2:00, so you will have to to get ready for your party later." She said dropping me off at my dance studio, then driving off.
"Hey, Kelsea!" Sydney, my best friend says to me when I walk into the studio.
"Hey, Syd. Are you coming tonight?" I ask placing my bag down and pulling on my foot undies. (shoes for dance)
"Wouldn't miss it for anything." She smiles.
"Hey, Kelsea." I hear the voice I dread the most when I hear it.
"What do you want Megan?!" I snap turning around facing my sworn enemy.
Ever since 7th grade we've hated each other. She stole my boyfriend from me, just to piss me off. And told the whole school that I was an orphan after my parents split up.
"I heard you're having a party tonight?" She sneered.
"Yeah, I am. But you and you're rat pack aren't invited." I snapped
"That's good. Because I wouldn't want to be inside you're ophanage home anyways." She taunted.
"You're lucky I don't wrap my hands aro-" I started but was cut off by our dance teacher
"That's enough ladies! Everyone start stretching!" She instructed and class started.
