"'Hold me closer, tiny dancer'." "Shut up Noah." "'Count the headlights on the highway'." "My ears are going to bleed." "You're my tiny dancer, Teresina. You know that, right?" #1 in #ballet #1 in #ballerina #1 in #dancing #1 in #jock #1 in #dylanobrien #2 in #teenromance #2 in #dance #5 in #emmawatson Teresina "Theresa" White is the average high school senior - except that after graduation she plans to take on the professional ballet world instead of college. Noah Thomson is the typical jock, with a boiling temper and unpredictable mood swings - except for his hidden soft spots. After a chance collision of fates resulting in a stubborn conflict, Theresa can't seem to escape Noah no matter what she's doing. Will their troubling pasts and strong prides keep them from building a friendship, or even something more? Or will they be able to let their guards down and grow something beautiful out of the wreckage? Get a glimpse into the world of ballet, from a ballerina herself. Dedication: To Riley Wolf, for inspiring those who knew her even after she passed. We dance for Riley.

February 19th, 2018 He is test subject Three-eleven-thirteen. Ellie for short. He's human. Remarkable. He can breathe freely, no tubes. His heart has adapted to beating on it's own. He opened his eyes yesterday, we looked at one another. He looked at me, truly looked at me. My daughter, Ripley, tried speaking with him, but he didn't understand. I will have her keep working with him. He will speak. February 23rd, 2018 He is standing. His bones are still fragile, but he is gaining muscle rapidly. This is incredible progress in such little time. Everything is going as planned, though his fingernails are black. They weren't black yesterday. March 13th, 2018 Ellie attacked Ripley last night. He will be kept in restraints from now on. March 27th, 2018 My God he is strong. The mysterious blackness that had formed in his fingernails is now flowing in his veins. Whatever this black liquid is, it's possessing him. April 4th, 2018 He bit me last night. I can feel the mystery in my veins. What is this? April 5th, 2018 Test subject three-eleven-thirteen, Ellie, will no longer be a patient of mine. I have locked him up in a cell in my lab. I fear him. He will stay in that cell for God knows how long until he starves to death. I am a coward. April 6th, 2018 I can't tolerate this. I think I'm truly losing it. My memories, my spirit, I feel them being eaten by this black virus. I have to end this tonight. I have to end myself tonight. I have too. Ripley, my sweet daughter, I love you baby. I am sorry for creating that abomination. I am so sorry.

"If they aren't pretty when they are dead, then why bother keeping the bodies in my cemetery? Just burn them. Burn all of them, and give me the charming ones." I laughed at how psychotic he sounded; or even how psychotic he was."You're young, why do you even own your own cemetery? That can't even be legal." "Why bother concerning yourself over my affairs? This cemetery-" he quickly corrected himself, "My cemetery is the most luxurious and ravishing of them all." He bent down, and began to whisper in my ear, "And I know, that you, my lamb, understand my funeral style, don't you?"