Segregated

7.

Nova Morello

"Nova!" Jasmine ran up to me when I walked inside of school. "Come see your locker."

I looked over at Silas as she pulled me to my locker and he shrugged. My eyes widened at all of the balloons  and decorations covering my locker.

"All for you, Novs." Rakim said nervously as he handed me a bouquet of roses.

"Avrei potuto fare meglio." Silas scoffed under his breath. I could've done better.

"What did you do this for?" I asked. I felt uncomfortable by the stares I was receiving from a few people.

"I want to take you to homecoming." He said.

I raised an eyebrow, "You asking me or telling me?"

He chuckled, "Will you go to homecoming with me? Pretty please?"

"...I'll go to homecoming with you, Rakim." I giggled.

"Why?" Jasmine looked him up and down with her arms crossed.

Jasmine never liked Rakim, but that doesn't stop me from liking him. He was really sweet, besides the pushy part.

Rakim ignored her and flashed his pearly whites, "You don't know how happy I am to hear you say that."

He kissed me on the cheek and walked off down the hallway.

"So I guess everything I said at the mall went out the other ear. You've always been hard headed." She shook her head.

"You're not really going with him, are you?" Silas asked me.

"Of course I am." I noticed him roll his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, let's get to first period before we're late." He grabbed my arm and pulled me in the direction of our classroom.

"Did I do something wrong?" I stared at his tense facial expression as we sat down in out assigned seats.

He glanced over at me and shook his head. I know he was lying.

°•°•°•°

"Nova!" My father yelled from downstairs.

I threw my phone to the other side of my bed and laid down, pretending to be asleep. But didn't stop him from bursting into my room.

"Get up." He stood at the foot of my bed waving a paper around. "What is this?"

"Well it appears to be a paper." I said in a duh tone.

"Don't get smart with me. This is an invitation for an audition for Juilliard." He threw it on the bed.

"Okay..."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Why was it in the trash?"

"Because I don't want to do it." I shrugged.

"What do you mean 'you don't want to do it'?" He folded his arms.

"I mean exactly what I said. I started doing ballet because I wanted to be like mom, but I realized I don't want to be like her. I want to be Nova, my own person."