Rosalind woke up. She looked around the room. The room she was about to exit, eat her breakfast, and rush off to her new school. She ran down the stairs, slamming her foot on each step with a loud THUMP!

"Rose-L!" Rosalind's sister, Sunnivale, shouted her nickname.

"Sunn!" Rosalind yelled. "I can play that game, too!"

"Mmm hmm. . . ." Sunnivale nodded, "the only game I can never ever beat you at is singing."

"Cause I'm too cool!" Rosalind sang. She sang in that light, heavenly voice she used for only singing. It was one of the things she was good at. But she was much more than good at it. She sang so beautifully there was no definition to how amazing it was (or maybe there was, but these people are just stupid. That's probably it). She was never told that, because she would never understand or believe the person that told her absolute truth. Her singing was a perfect match for her. It was her singing voice that matched how beautiful she was.

She had brown hair, that was so straight it was glossy. Her eyes were a beautiful shade of blueish green that reminded people of the ocean that lapped at the shores. They were usually foggy and unfocused. Ironically, she liked to have a fake rose in her hair. You know, those hair clips? She soon was racing off to school, those beautiful aqua eyes sparkling with excitement. She arrived at the doors. She grinned. "I, Rosalinda Oriana Carter, am going into school."

"Oh, I thought you were a passing jogger."

"Oh, and I care." Rosalind responded to the voice. But, without turning back, she raced into the school, to the locker with the first letter of her name and last name printed on the door. "R. Carter" it read. For Rosalind Carter. R. O. C. I'm not a rock, but I rock. Rosalind grinned at her little joke.

She opened it, and stored her things carefully so they were organized. As she organized her locker she hummed Closer. When she started over, she started singing, but quietly. She didn't like singing in public.

"Hey, I was doing just fine before I met you. I drank too much and that's an issue, but I'm ok. Hey, tell your friends it was nice to meet them. But I hope I never see them again. I know it breaks your heart. Move to the city in a broke down car and four years no car. Now you're looking pretty in a hotel bar and I-I-I-I-I can't stop. No, I-I-I-I-I can't stop."

She finished sorting her things into get locker, and wondered why it took so long. Probably because I was singing one of my favorite songs. Good enough excuse. Rosalind thought.

As she walked to her classes on her schedule, she listened to Headphones (by Britt Nicole) and it was a while until she realized all she wanted was to sing along. Wait for it. . . . Wait. . . .

Nah, listen to the rest of the playlist. Skip that one, and. . . .

"I hear your heartbeat to the beat of the drums. Oh, what a shame that you came here with someone. So while you're here in my arms, let's make the most of the night like we're gonna Die Young!"

When the song ended, she paused the next song, put her phone in her pocket, on silent, and walked inside the classroom. Just as she sat down —

Ring!

The bell rung.

As the class walked in, one boy caught her eye. He was about her height, and had dirty blonde hair, which didn't suit how short it was. Other than that, he was amazing. With his dark brown eyes, and his dark blue sweater. He seemed to want to be perfect, proved to Rosalind when she heard him and his friends talking.

"My hair looks horrible on me, Harold!"

"Well," said Harold. "I didn't say it did. . . ."

"Nice."

"Ugh! This conversation is so confusing!"

"Yeah, and a girl is watching it."

They both turned to Rosalind, and she nearly had a heart attack. She looked away and plugged her headphones in. Too Cool. Yay!

She tuned out everything but the music until the lesson started. After school, Rosalind was walking down the hall with her headphones in. A unsuspecting target.

Rosalind went to round a corner, but instead felt a push from the side, and a loud noise and sudden pain that told her she had just been thrown into a wall. She groaned, opened her eyes, and leaped into the air. She ran down the hallway into the nearest classroom. Music. Oh, now she knew where this was. Into Practice Room 335.

She entered and hid. Who she saw through the keyhole stopped her completely. It was the boy with dirty blonde hair. I'm gonna call him dorky blonde. Ok, then. Gonna chase me down a hallway? You've got another thing coming, Dorky. I'll show you. A first impression never hurt anyone. This'll be the first.

But instead of a prank or a trick, she wrote a note.

If your goal is a girl named Rosalind,
You want to try hard to win,
Since she is your prize,
Try to at least say something nice.
Just my advice.
~~~
Your advice giver

She found a trombone, and blew on it. The door was locked, so he couldn't barge in. She heard him fiddling with the knob. She passed the note under the door. There was a ripping sound, and scribble noises, then a different note was passed under the door. She read it.

Same time, same place tomorrow.
Dennis

She nodded, though nobody could see her. She scribbled words on the back and passed it under the door.

"Walk away, then." He read off the page. "I have a identity I don't want revealed. Ok, then, 335."

He walked off, and Rosalind rushed home when she knew she was unseen. When she was safely in her home, she sighed and jumped on her bed. "What a day. Huh, Muffin?" She asked her ginger cat. His purple eyes fixed on Rosalind, he jumped into her lap and purred. "Yeah." Rosalind muttered sadly. Muffin's pur was all the response she needed.

She laid down, Muffin on top of her, and fell asleep. She didn't know it yet, but her advice giver side was now a friend of Dennis. Yeah, the Dorky Blonde guy. What she did know was that this would be a rough ride.

But not in the way she thought.