Ashlynn McCarthy is a 16 year old punk who happens to not know her father, except for maybe a small fleeting glimpse of a smile. After getting into one of the most brutal fights in school, her mother signs her up for TDI in hopes that she can cool d...
It was not Duncan's grip that secured me in my place.
It was Courtney's.
"You. What do you want?" I growled, trying to wrench my arm from her grasp.
"Please. Let me talk with you," she begged.
"Hell no."
"Ashlynn, I'm desperate. I'm so sorry. I just-I-words can't even comprehend how bad I'm feeling right now. I should never have kissed Duncan, or done all the horrible things I did to you. Duncan truly loves you, you know. I would never have a chance with him. Please. We could be friends."
Comprehension dawned on me. Friends, with Courtney? Maybe it could work after all..
NOT.
"Never," I snapped.
She released my arm in shock. As the elevator doors were about to shut, I stuck my arm between them and rammed them open.
"Goodnight, Bitch." I spat as the elevator doors shut.
*****
The Finale.
TODAY!
On one hand, I'm super excited. I just know Gwen will win.
On the other, I'm incredibly worried. Its Trent and I's final performance, and its going to be a big one. A HUGE ONE.
I check my phone for the time, then groan. I overslept; its already twelve.
I climb out of bed, then hop into the shower. I rub my body with mint soap, then scrub coconut shampoo and conditioner throughout my hair. I get out of the shower, dry my hair, then wrap a towel around my body. I dig in my closet for the best concert clothes, then find them. The PERFECT ones.
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I brushed my teeth, then swiped on a bit of eyeliner. I walked down to the mess hall.
As I made myself a cup of coffee, I felt eyes bore into the back of my head. I turned around, to see Courtney glaring at me from the table nearest the coffee maker.
"Hello, Sunshine."
She rolled her eyes, then scooted her chair back from the table and stormed out of the mess hall.
"Her loss," I murmured, sitting down in her seat and sipping on my coffee. The coffee was the only thing I could stomach this morning, as my belly was already full with butterflies.
Trent walked in, then pulled a chair from my table and sat down. He had his guitar held tightly in his hand, and he gave me a nod of approval.
