Her Name is Rose

This story is about teenage girl, Rose, who goes to a boarding school in New York. She falls in love with the mysterious Julian, but he isn't who he says he is. Rose lives in a world full of secrets that threaten to change the life she lives in America.


1. Chapter One

    The black stretch limousine pulled up outside of the architecturally beautiful building. It was built out of fading grey stone and was concealed mostly by pine trees, giving the building a secretive appearance. There was nothing unusual about the sight of a limo driving through the iron gates of the school and having bodyguards step out of the car before the passenger. This was what life at GreyStone Academy was like, though amongst the stunning girls with rich daddies there was a fair share of normal girls, however beautiful.

    Rose Ryland stepped out of a silver Mercedes Benz, carefully avoiding the crowd surrounding the fabulous Arabella who stepped out of one of the slick limos and made her way over to her friends. Rose spotted her own friends instantly, Ava, Isabella, and Olivia. They were all American with sun tanned skin, perfect manicures, and immaculate hair. Rose lifted her shades up, setting them in her long straight hair, the sun’s light making it seem more golden than brunette, as she made her way over towards her friends.

“Looking Glamorous girls,” she drawled in her thick American accent as she gave each of the girls a hug.

              “Love the bag,” responded Olivia, noticing the Gucci sign written proudly on its side.

              “It’s fake,” laughed Rose as she complemented the other girl’s diamante sandals.

              “Fake too,” replied Olivia.

 The girls spoke in unison, “Cheapskates and proud.”

              “New car?” asked Ava, who nodded her head towards the shining ride standing proudly by the edge of the road.

              “I wish, it’s just a rental. I needed to get to school somehow and I wasn’t arriving in a taxi in my senior year.”

              “Why don’t you just get a motorcycle like us? They probably have it in your color,” teased Isabella who had been quiet up until then.

              “Dad would kill me,” Rose exaggerated as she turned to get a glimpse of Arabella and her posse. “That girl can’t tell fake friends from real ones anymore.” Rose sighed, turning back to face her friends.

              “Where’s your luggage?” asked Olivia, choosing to ignore Rose’s previous remark about Arabella.

              “In the trunk. Help me?”

              “Sure thing babe, Bella can you hold my purse for a sec?”

              “Ugh,” sighed Isabella, clearly unhappy with the suggestion.

              “It’ll only be a sec, Bella,” assured Rose as she and Olivia made their way over to the car.

As Rose fumbled in her bag for what she was always calling ‘the damn key’, she spotted Arabella strutting up the school steps like her daddy had bought her the place.

              “Ignore her Rosy, she’s not worth it anymore.”

              “I know Liv, I just can’t get over how she ditched us the moment her dad got his big break.”

              “If you could even call it that,” spluttered Olivia, as she recalled watching Mr. Bronte sitting on the judges panel, clearly not understanding what was going on, never mind his lack of musical knowledge. “So what did you get up to this summer Rosy? Anything interesting?”

Rose hesitated before answering, “Umm nothing new, just the usual. I went home and saw the family. What about you?”

              “Wouldn’t you like to know,” giggled Olivia as she ran back to the other girls, one of Rose’s suitcases trailing behind her. Rose sighed in humorous annoyance and tugged the other two cases out of the car, slinging her backpack over her shoulders as she too rejoined the other girls.

The others had moved over towards the school’s stone steps. As she approached the group, Rose could hear them discussing party plans. Confused, she asked “What party?” and when the others looked at her in total disbelief it suddenly came back to her. “Oh right, the senior start off. When is it?”

              ‘The same night it always is, crazy. The first Saturday of the semester,” said Isabella, glancing at her watch and suddenly realizing the time. “Guys, we need to hurry if we want to change before dinner.”

              “Let’s go then,” said Olivia, “wait, Ava, do you know what dorm we are in?”

              “No idea, we’ll have to go to the office first and check.”


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