Saving Rose [PUBLISHED]

|CHAPTER 1| Four Seasons: Spring

[All Rights Reserved. Saving Rose by @PointTrueNorth]

This chapter is dedicated to @Faltimawolff1 because she's a real life friend of mine and is new to Wattpad. So, let's all welcome her shall we? I hope you good luck @Faltimawolff1! :)

A/N: In this book, it takes place in Texas, United States so some of the words won't be spelled in the British way. But because I used to live in France and went to a British school, I guess I'll mess up every once in a while... you might never know. And the character is in a volleyball team. Deal with it, soccer lovers.

And let's all keep in mind... I'll be writing this book as a 13-14 year old.

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| C H A P T E R 1 | Four Seasons: Spring

Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter. Of all the seasons, today just had to be Spring.

Normal people love Spring out of all the four seasons. Not too cold and not too hot; just right. But I despise it. Spring marks the beginning of the blooming season. With a huge allergy to nature, I'm not a big fan of flowers and trees.

Signing up for Volleyball was a big mistake because I'm not much of an athlete. The only reason why I even bothered to do it was because Marisol nagged me none stop to sign up with her. To make matters worse, our coach wants to nail the fact that winning is the most important thing into our minds, so he pushes and trains us past our limits.

I sneezed as a runner ran past me, huffing and puffing.

The moldy ground, wet from last night's rain shower, squished underneath my foot as I forced myself to walk on, despite how tired I am. I stayed up late last night messaging away on Facebook and now I regret it.

"Hey Eleanor!" Marisol chirped as she jogged up to me. "Wazzup?"

Marisol had no problem with running. Unlike me, she was born and made into an athlete. Running a few laps around a track was no big deal to her.

"Nothing," I said and continued walking on. Marisol slowed to a walking speed and fell step by step next to me.

"You don't look like nothing happened," Marisol noted as she studied my face. "Don't tell me you were up all night on Facebook."

"I can do whatever I want with my life, thank you very much," I huffed.

Marisol shrugged. "Just helping."

I groaned as my left foot sank a little into a damp area of the ground, ruining my newly brought tennis shoes.

I picked up my feet, examining the brown smudges on the soles of my shoes.

"The game's next week, ya know," Marisol reminded me as she peered over my shoulder to look at my shoes. "Your shoes will get dirtied anyway."

"I know, I know," I said, annoyed and disgusted. "But I don't want to wear ugly shoes to the game."

Marisol shrugged again. "Suit yourself."

Coach Wayne blew the whistle and we all jogged over to him and huddled together.

"Listen up, Pipsqueaks!" he yelled. Coach Wayne screams all the time in order for 'all of us to hear'. But with only 13 of us, his voice shatters our eardrums.

"You all better win next week or else I'm going to pelt you with volleyballs! You hear?!" he gave us all a glare, daring us to tell him otherwise.

"Yes sir!" we said in unison.