R0s3

Chapter 1; April 15th, 2511

"Wakey, wakey, Rosey!" The cheerful voice of my father cut through my sleep. He only ever woke me like this on special occasions, so I quickly woke myself up. My father stood next to my bed with a broad smile, in his hands were two gold balloons. One was a 7 and the other was a six, so I immediately took it as the number 76. I quirked an eyebrow up in confusion.

"Happy Birthday, Rose!" He cheered, a childlike expression across his face. I gave a small grin, but I was still confused about why he thought I was 76.

"Thanks, Dad! But, uh... what's with the six?" I asked. If I was right, I was only seven years old.

"Oh! Yeah! Well, I thought it would be cute to combine seven and sixteen! Since you're both of those ages!" He replied enthusiastically. Well, he was right about that. Scientifically, I'm only seven, but appear to be older. My smile widened as I pulled myself out of bed and hugged my father. He was definitely creative... and it was the thought that counted.

"I got the chef to make a big breakfast for you before school. I really hope you like it, sweetie." He smiled, before letting the balloons float up onto my high vaulted roof and striding out of the room with a spring in his step. I stretched, giving a long and loud yawn, before getting ready for the day. Another normal school day as a normal girl.

I slipped on our school's uniform, a blue jacket over a white shirt with a tie around it along with a green plaid skirt and my black converse. In all honesty, I despised school uniforms, especially since these shades of green and blue didn't go well together, and with the added bonus of my strawberry blonde hair, I looked like a wreck no matter how hard I tried. After sending a comb through my tangled hair and putting in my brown colored eye contacts, I exitted my room.

It was obvious that I wasn't too fond about hiding my true abilities, but if I wanted to go to school and make friends, then dad told me I'd have to. I'm still amazed about how big our house was. If I hadn't had the map of the whole place installed into my mind, I would still be lost to this day. I guess the size of my home is the main disadvantage of living in the White House. It took me about five minutes to get from my bedroom (formerly known as the Queen's Bedroom) all the way to the dining room.

"Good morning, Mrs. President." I heard the voice of my dad say as he stepped into the room. Every day on my birthday, he treated me like I was the President of the United States instead of him. Dad had a white towel draped over his arm as well as his black tuxedo, which made him look like a butler. I gave a broad grin, before looking at the dining room table. On one half of the exceedingly long table was covered in a variety of food.

There were pancakes, waffles, french toast, eggs, grits, and most importantly, sausage, ham, bacon, and steak biscuits, all effortlessly made by the chef.

"Good morning, Carter! My, this food looks divine!" I cheered, going along with his butler act. Apparently I had became the Queen of England instead of the President, because I accidentally slipped into a British accent.

"Why thank you, Mrs. President. I suppose you're ready to magically turn everything into a monarchy?" Dad had heard my accent slip and gave another grin. I snorted at his response, before taking a seat at the head of the table. "That is a topic we will discuss later. Well come, Carter! We should eat breakfast together!" I added, patting the seat next to me. Dad came and sat down, and after praying (still in a British accent), we began to eat. Dad left all of the meat to me, which I gladly accepted, pretty much scarfing down as much of it as my stomach could hold.

Just as I finished eating, Dad set down his fork and looked over at me, "Well, Mrs. President- er, Queen- Ashley should be here any minute to take you to school. I would have let you miss school today, but you insisted on going. Why is that?" I shrugged at his question, chugging down a glass of apple juice.

"I dunno.. something about today feels special. Not to mention YOTSO!" I replied, childishly. Dad tilted his head in confusion.

"You only turn seven once, duh." I replied, before turning my attention to the door, where I heard several loud grumbles of annoyance. Quickly, I stood up from my seat. I had a good feeling who was outside my door, but I could never be too sure. After all, I was designed to protect my dad, and so the grumbles that I heard could have been coming from someone out to kill him.

Cautiously, I approached the door and looked out the peephole. With a sigh of relief, I opened the door to see three people: two members of the Secret Service and my best friend/personal chaperone/intern, Ashley. Of course, I should have known it was her, but I've never been the most trusting person.

"Rose, can you please tell these dudes that I'm not an assassin out to kill your dad?" She whined, trying to get them to let go of each of her arms.

"Well, it's not like a person can just waltz onto government property these days." I said, grinning brightly. Although I was rather annoyed with the Service for always "escorting" Ashley in like that. My dad walked up behind me and rummaged around in his jacket pocket, before pulling out a lanyard and handing it to Ashley. It had a key card on the end of it that should give her access to the majority of the building.

The Service guards let go of Ashley before saluting at the President and walking back to their station at the front of the building. Ash death glared them before stepping inside, "Thanks, Mr.-" She was just about to say Mr. President, but Dad interrupted her.

"Hayes." He said. Dad never really liked being called Mr. President by any of my friends. Especially since Ash was probably my only friend. But even though Dad didn't like people calling him the President, he sure liked to remind people that he was- or at least that I was the President's daughter.

For example, "Now, Mrs. President. I've arranged for a limousine to take the both of you to school. And when you get home, I'll have all of your presents ready!" Dad smiled, before beginning to walk me and Ashley downstairs and to the entrance of the White House.

"Do we have to, Dad?" I asked in a whining tone. Before Dad could even answer, Ashley cut in.

"It's your dad's wishes. Okay? We need to respect them- not because I totally wanna ride in an awesome limo or anything." I laughed at her statement. Ash really enjoyed the perks of being my best friend, but I knew that she really was my best friend, not just some person trying to use me. She even knew my secret and hadn't told a single soul, so of course I trusted her. When I laughed, it caused Ashley to laugh a bit too.

"Pleeeaaassee, Rosey? I just want my baby girl to have a good sixteenth and seventh birthday! Y'know, YOTSO!" Dad said in a babyish tone, which was kind of embarrassing considering Ash was standing right next to me.

"Fine. I guess you're right." We walked and talked for a few minutes, and it was mainly just Dad catching up with Ashley, seeing how her weekend was. He was nice like that. When we made it outside, a huge, hovering, stretch limo/Hummer sat waiting for us to hop inside. Ashley and I looked at Dad in disbelief. I was used to riding in the smaller, less luxurious limos with wheels, but even then, riding in those were rare. As if Dad read my mind, he said, "It's the least I could do for my baby girl." He smiled, before wrapping me in a hug and kissing the top of my head. Then he handed me my bookbag and waited for me to go inside the limo.

We told him our goodbyes before walking up onto our hover-limo. The vertical door closed behind Ashley, and we decided to make ourselves acquainted with the completely awesome scenery. I lied down onto one of the most comfortable leather seats ever and Ash flipped on the TV. We had about an hour ride to our school, only because dad wanted me to go to one of the most prestigious academies out there.

Ash and I talked a bit, not about anything too terribly interesting, but all the while, I couldn't help but think about how lucky I was to be the daughter of the President. In fact, I could still remember my first few days of consciousness.