Sunday, January 23, 2011

Chapter 1 of Flawed


Well here is Chapter 1 of Flawed. It still needs some work but tell me what you think. I'm only going to post the chapters on here until it becomes public on Inkpop.com. I need 10,000 words and I'm currently at 5,232. I apologize that Dakota is a bit of a brat, but don't worry, that will change eventually :) Enjoy and Please leave comments! If you haven't read the prologue to this story yet- follow that link-http://the828.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-book-flawed.html


I dropped down to the hard dance floor onto my knees. I was strong, but apparently not strong enough. I understood we had a huge competition coming up but seriously, didn’t she have any faith in us?


We practiced the kick line and leaps about five more times until Kayla finally let us have a rest.
Kayla Smith was our dance instructor and part studio owner. She wanted us to call her Mrs. Smith but, we all want things don’t we?


“If you girls don’t try your hardest, we won’t win top studio at Dance Explosion next weekend. You know how amazing that would be for us? We could move on to nationals and one of you girls could be named Miss Dance Explosion. So, you got to work it, you hear me?”


We all nodded our heads in unison and began to filter out of the studio. Then Kayla put her hand on my shoulder.


“Dakota, I really have a feeling you could become Miss Dance Explosion when we go to nationals. Your solo is choreographed right?” she asked.


“It’s been done since October,” I answered. It was the last week in January. Competition season started the first week in February; I’d never wait so long to finish.


“Good, because I have a feeling you could win. You impressed me today.”


“Thanks Kayla,” I concluded and strode out the dance studio. The other girls eyed me suspiciously. They knew Kayla favored me over them. After all, I was one of the best dancers at K & M Dance Academy, and they hated that fact. I’ll admit I was cocky, but why not be if you’re good?


“Dakota Paige Wright,” scolded my best friend at dance as I approached the cubbies where we kept our bags.


“How dare you not fill me in? What did Kayla say?” laughed Erica Henderson as I gathered my shoes.


“She says she thinks I have a chance at winning Miss Dance Explosion. She even asked if my solo was done, like duh, I’d never wait this long,” I answered proudly, pulling my shiny, long, curly brown hair out of a pony tail, letting it fall down my back. My pale, heart shaped face was sweaty and hot, I needed air.


“Bitch! I want that crown!” she joked.


“You have a chance too, you know you’re amazing!”


“I know,” smiled Erica. She was cocky, if not cockier than me. That’s probably why we bonded so quickly. We were put in a lyrical duet together in sixth grade, I was in tenth grade now and she was too, and we were still friends.


“We headed to Starbucks? I’m craving a frappachino. But I need to watch my calories,” she groaned as she slipped her Prada bag over her shoulder. We walked outside of the building and her straight, long blonde hair blew wildly in the January wind. Her eyes glowed a grayish blue, like stone washed jeans. Mine were teal and bright, and far prettier. Her oval shaped face looked toward me, waiting for me to answer.


“Yeah, if my Mom will take us. Erica, shut up, you are so skinny,” I laughed. Erica and I were very fit and had the perfect dancer bodies, slim and tight.


I pulled out my Blackberry Curve from my Michael Kors dance bag and dialed my mom’s number. After a few rings, she picked up.
“Hey, you out of dance?”
“Yeah, can you take Erica and me to Starbucks?”
“Sure, I’m almost there. Bye,” she said and hung up.


“So what’d she say?” asked Erica eagerly.
“Yes.”


“I hope that’s the same answer you get when you ask her about coming to my school.”


“I hope. I can’t stand Rexford anymore!” Rexford High School was where I currently went to school, and I hated it with all my heart. Not that I didn’t have any friends, I was actually really popular. But there was no dance team or musical. And I would not sacrifice my good name to be a cheerleader.


Erica attended the San Diego School of Performing Arts. It was one of the most amazing schools for dance in the state. If I went there, I’d have Miss Dance Explosion in the bag. I’d be able to get better at dance and meet more amazing dancers like myself. Maybe I’d even be able to dominate the school like my friends and I managed to do at Rexford.


My mom pulled up in her new blue 2011 Volvo and Erica and I climbed into the back seat. She had her cell phone up against her ear like always. My mom was the owner of every Capital Bank in San Diego and the next two towns over. Lucky for us, that job brought in loads.


“When are you going to ask her?” mouthed Erica as we drove along.


“At Starbucks, or the next time she’s in a good mood,” I whispered back.


When I asked my mother important things, I always had to time it right. She either needed to have just got paid, got enough sleep, or just be happy in general. She usually bought me everything I wanted though. We weren’t too close, and I guess she bought me stuff to make up for that. Which was fine with me, but sometimes I needed a loving, normal mom.


“That’s great! Just send the amount to my account, thanks see you tomorrow,” my Mom said gleefully into the phone. I saw her smile in the mirror. Today was a good day.
We strolled into the local Starbucks and Mom ordered a latte while Erica and I got our usual frappachinos. We slid over to a comfy booth and I became very eager. She had to say yes, she just had to.


“Alright Dakota, I see that look on your face, what do you want to ask me?” asked my mother all of a sudden. Wow, she was really good at reading me.


“Mom,” I gulped,” Is there any way I could go to the San Diego School of Performing Arts?” Erica looked as equally eager and nervous as I was.


She sat there silently for a moment, tapping her manicured finger nails on the table and her brown eyes focusing down. Her straight dark brown hair lay on her shoulders, unmoving.
“Isn’t that where you go to school, Erica?” she asked finally.


“Yes, Mrs. Wright, and I’d love if Dakota could come there with me.”


“Please honey, call me Leah. And well, I’ll have to talk with her father about it. Why would you want to leave Rexford, Dakota?” asked my mother.


“Mom, I hate Rexford. That school is just so boring, nothing ever happens! Plus, there’s no musical or anything! Please,” I begged.


“I’ll talk to Dad about it,” was her final response. Then her phone rang and she forgot we were there. I didn’t understand why she had to talk to Dad about it, they were divorced anyways. She could make decisions without having to ask him first!


Erica tugged on my arm and pointed to the other side of the room, “Ohmygawd, it’s Becky Rendell. I forgot to tell you, she got into my school!”


“What? She left K & M last year and she wasn’t even that good! That must be why I haven’t been seeing her around Rexford. Think she went to dance somewhere else?”


“Yeah, All-Star Dance Center,” gagged Erica sticking her tongue out. All-Star Dance Center was K & M’s arch enemy in Lemon Grove, CA. We were fierce competitors at every competition. They thought they were all that and more. This year we wanted to finally show them whose boss.


“Oh wow, look at those bangs! What was she thinking? And her Coach bag, obviously a knock off! You can totally tell,” snickered Erica evilly. I actually didn’t think her blunt type bangs looked that bad on her, and her purse didn’t look too fake.


But if I wanted to stay at the social status I was at, I had to agree. So I nodded my head and laughed along like I didn’t have a care in the world.

3 comments:

Melanie♥♥♥ said...

Hey! I just saw that your reading Invasion of the Boy Snatchers...and I just wanted to say...I LOVE THE CLIQUE TO!!!! :))))
And this story is amazing! Please post more! I love the way you write. It flows so smoothly.

Paige said...

@ Melanie, I love it so much also! I am ADDICTED!

And aw thanks so much! I'm going to post chapter 2 tomorrow :)

Amaranthine said...

Oh, this is good. Write more!
Remember you don't have to describe every single detail. :)