This book follows Nathalie, a freshman in college who's ready to have an independent life. Being sheltered by her parents and small town, she always dreamt of having her own place and making her own rules. Well, now she can.
She moves out to a college town, gets her own apartment and plans to live, really live for once. She has no rules other than to keep her grades up so she can continue her independent lifestyle. The book begins with Natty moving into her apartment and starting her new life.
This excerpt is from chapter one where Natty means Sam. Enjoy!
As I'm going from lawn to sidewalk, my flip flop catches the ridge and I fly forward, dropping my books into the pavement.
"Just fucking great." I mumble, looking down at my scraped knee. It's not a big deal but still, this would happen to me today. Talk about divine intervention. I'm thinking God doesn't want me bring independent anymore. One day was enough in His book. I sit up muttering a stream of expletives while I start picking up my books and splattered papers.
I'm shoving my last paper into my bag when someone walks by and says, "rough morning?" His voice is deep and pulls me in like a magnet. I glance up and see the back of some guy. He chuckles a little to himself but stops at the stairs leading up to my class building. I stare at his back and wait for him to turn so I can match his entrancing voice to his face.
"Want to bum one?" He asks again, his voice speaking out to my very being. His jade eyes meet mine and hold me there refusing to let me look away. I try to memorize every feature on his face in mere seconds so I don't look like a complete face.
"Want to bum one?" He asks again, his voice speaking out to my very being. His jade eyes meet mine and hold me there refusing to let me look away. I try to memorize every feature on his face in mere seconds so I don't look like a complete face.
There's a five o'clock shadow on his face that makes his chiseled jaw even more square. He has dark brown hair but it's highlighted on the top from the summer rays. He's got a light tan across his face and it's never been so attractive to me before. I realize I'm staring too much so I break the trance and stare at the ground, making myself act cool.
"Sure," I whisper reply, shaking my head to snap out of it. I grab my bag from the ground and stand, dusting my body off except for my bloody knee which I try to pretend is nonexistent.
He pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and bends his lips down to retrieve one. The way they pucker in the middle and wrap around the stick sends heat into the pit of my stomach. He then holds it out to me to grab one. I don't usually smoke and definitely don't like to in public. I hate the way people judge. I've never bought my own pack or been a chainsmoker. At parties or if I was having a shitty day, like today, I'd steal one from a friend.
I don't carry that addictive gene, thank God so having one every once and a while was never a problem.
The guy next to me flicks his box and lights his cigarette but instead of handing me the lighter he presses his stick to mine, giving me his fire. His face comes unreasonably close to mine, just a cigarette length away and I can smell every scent on this guys body. He's a mix of cigarette, soap and something minty. It sends my hormones into high gear, making me tingle.
"Thanks." I say, leaning back on my elbow and pulling the first drag.
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