Chapter 1

50 3 1
                                    

New story here, and it's an original peice. I actually really like this one and it based of a somehwhat true story, but names have been changed to protect the people of this book. The cover was made by the bestie, QuietChild14. And this book is dedicated to Lauryn Neterer, who just recently pasted away. Fly high baby girl. I hope you enjoy this book.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My eyes opened wide on a bright Monday morning. It was nearing the end of summer,which meant that school was starting soon.

It also meant I had to leave my soft and comfortable home school and actually go to public high school, and honestly I didn't want to.

The only thing that made me want to go was the band and choir program. My father, who works at the school, is the choir director. My step- mom is the band director.

They both needed me. My Dad needed more 2nd Altos and Olivia wanted me to play the French Horn in her band.

The bad part was Marching Band. I had to participate for the entire first trimester.

And I was leavinng for Band Camp today, where we would spend two weeks learning how to march while playing our intruments. I would be roomd with five other girls I didn't know, I would be playing an instrument I have never played before because you can't march with the French Horn, and there was going to be physical activity all day.

To be honest, I was only doing it for Olivia and my Other Mommies.

My Biological Mom lives next door to us, with her wife. The only reason my parents got divorced was because she came to the realization that she liked girl as well. She met a lady and my mom got a divorce from my father. They are still really close friends and occasionally go out for drinks.

"Lauryn, it's time to get up." Olivia said to me through the door.

"I'm already up."

"Well that's good. Get out of the bed."

"But I Don't wanna. My bed finally trusts me again after I left it yesterday. If I leave it, it may never forgive me." I whined, attempting to be sarcastic at the same time.

"I'll get your father." She warns. That warning was enough to get me out of my bed and tripping on the comforter that had fallen off in the middle of the night. This caused me to fall face first onto my floor.

And, let me tell you, did that hurt.

The Love in MusicWhere stories live. Discover now