No matter how much she runs, Laura is stuck in an endless loop of her past. With a transfer of school and a curly-haired boy who seems to be wherever she goes, it's a matter of time she realizes that her universe ceases at the sight of him-and runni...
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
THE POST-SCHOOL HEADACHE had subsided, but my mind was left wondering. I went into action as soon as I stepped one foot inside of the house, because without checking off my To-Do list I would've ended up sprawled on my bed all day. Being without parents was hard, but I took it as an opportunity to get ready for college life.
The whole Evan fiasco didn't help my chaotic headspace. While Liam was off to college and I was left all alone, I tried to work out to unleash the pent-up anxiety and anger. My motive was indeed fulfilled—with sore limbs and sweat lingering on my body like superglue—my mind did get eased, but not to an extent I would've liked. Evan Parker might have just mastered yet another art: the art of consuming every thought which went inside my head. It was pitiful, to say the least, how his little actions and smiles swarmed in my head, rent free.
I groaned and got myself a glass of water. While I downed it like I had been thirsty for several years, my phone reverberated on the kitchen slab—all while humming an annoying ringtone in a harsh cacophony. I had put it on silent yesterday.
Mom was calling.
An unconscious smile graced my lips, eyes bright and hands frenetic. "Mom! Hey."
She laughed mockingly on the other end. "Look who recognized me! How delighted I am."
I made a face. "Mom! I'm sorry. I have just been so busy. . ." I've ended up making a couple friends, and one of them is missing. And oh, I was just working out. The regular deal, you know. "School and stuff."
She sighed. A heap of shuffling reached my ears before she spoke again, and I could only imagine the ruckus dad was making. "I get it, bella. Dad and I have been the same. How're you, though?"
Bella. For an Italian woman, that nickname seemed the only way to go. It warmed my heart beyond words, and I shrugged my shoulders as if she could see me. "Like how it always is," apart from the eased nightmares and the bottle of pills I haven't touched in a while, "the same studies, the same bunch of teenagers."
I'm. . .happier.
I chuckled grimly. The line went silent for a few seconds, and I hated not being able to tell how I really felt. I wanted to say, I'm the happiest I've been in the past months, but I didn't. When she blew a breath, I could imagine her lips curling up. "Have you made any friends?"
I grinned. "Yes, ma'am. Is dad with you?"
"He's causing havoc in the kitchen."
"It's called cooking, darling!" a voice resonated farther away, and my cheeks hurt from smiling.
"That's what he think he does," she muttered hotly, and then clicked her tongue. "Anyway, bella, how about the cute guys there?"
I rose my eyebrows.
"Or even girls? To be honest Laura, with the amount of distancing you do with guys, I might just assume you aren't into them."
