Picture of Roxy on the side ------->
Chapter Two
*Roxy's Point of View*
“Thanks.” I said cheerful to the cute blond guy who threw a few dollars into my guitar case. He nodded his head and walked away. I tried to watch him as he left, but the space was quickly filled by my audience.
“Does anybody know what time it is?” I asked after I finished the song.
“It's almost eight.” A random lady called out. Crap....
“Gotta go!” I threw my guitar in it's case and started to run.
~~~
“Tardie again Ms. Hill.” Mr. Crooks said as I walked into the high school. He pulled out a pad of pink slips and scribed on it before handing it to me. “Detention.”
I sighed, grabbed the slip before walking to homeroom.
“There she is.” One of my best friends called from our usual place in the corner of the room.
“Hey Conner. Hey Noah.” I greeted, slipping into a desk next to them. I started to pull out my guitar.
“Ug, please tell me your not going to actually play that thing.” Amanda, the snobbiest girl in the school, remarked from her seat across the room.
“Shut up Amanda.” Noah called out. “Nobody wants to hear your nasaly voice.” She gasped and turned her head away from us.
I rolled my eyes. I didn't pull out my guitar, I pulled out the money from under it. Nice, a hundred dollars!
The bell rang, me and my best friends were off to math class.
“Today class we are going to learn...” And after than I started to drown out my lame math teacher, slipping into my own daydream about being a famous singer/ songwriter.
“Roxy!” Mrs. Pink yelled grabbing my attention.
“What?” I groaned, running my fingers through my long blond hair.
“What's the answer to number five?” She asked. I quickly glanced to the board and did a bunch of mental math.
“X = 3.” I answered nonchalantly, slipping back into my daydream.
After class, the rest of the day slipped by super fast. Conner drove me home in his car. Well, at least he thinks he dropped me off at home. In actuality, I walked over two blocks to my real house. It's not that I was ashamed of where I lived, I just don't want my friends to see my family, my foster family.
“Home!” I announced walking into the house. I was swarmed by a bunch of little kids.
“Rox! Rox!” the oldest, nine year old Krystal, wrapped herself around my waist. “Guess what I did in school?” I smiled and walked over to the couch where she could tell me all about her day.
“Roxy, can you come help with dinner?” Grace, my foster mom, asked with a plead, holding the youngest foster kid in her arms. I nodded my head and walked into the kitchen to help my foster dad Michael made dinner for nine people.
During dinner, I managed to sneak my food away to my shared room. I sat on my bed, a notepad in front of me and my guitar in hand. “I'll never be what you want, I wouldn't change any part of me, Just to make you stay, You had a piece of my heart, But not enough to just run away, 'Cause I know what's best for me.”
I like it! I wrote down the lyrics to the song and started to put some music behind it. A knock on the door interrupted me. I looked up to see Jersey, the newest foster kid under the door frame. A poor kid, only five years old.
