[Currently being rewritten and updated chapter by chapter]
Book One in the "Hard Love" series.
It's hard being knocked down. And it's even harder getting back up.
Thalia Carter grew up on the south side of Chicago with a dead-beat dad and never real...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Fallon: I MISS YOU Fallon: plz come out of hiding Thalia: I'll be back Mon. Just haven't been feeling well Fallon: so ur not up for the party after the game? Ollie's crushing it, so ik he'll want 2 celebrate Thalia: not tonite. Sry.
I reach over and set my phone on my nightstand, plugging it in as Low Battery: 20% flashes across the screen. With a curse, I realize my charger isn't working. Probably from all the weird angles it suffers when I use it in bed.
Eh. I'll leave it and go steal Hadley's later when I feel like getting up. She's working till three in the morning, so she won't miss it tonight and then I can get a new one in the morning.
I channel surf for a while, wrapped protectively in a cocoon of fuzzy blankets with a bag of sour gummies in my lap. Eventually I decide everything on TV sucks and turn on Teen Wolf, letting my mind get wrapped up in Stiles Stilinski, the real main character in my eyes.
Just as I'm about to doze off, a knock comes from the other side of my door. Forcing my eyes open and sitting up a little straighter, I call for Laura to come in–she's the only one home, and I'm definitely not getting any company tonight with it being the last game of the season.
My eyes nearly bug out of my skill. "What the fuck are you wearing?"
Laura frowns, dropping her hands to smooth out her dress–if you can call it that. It ends just under her barely-there ass and while it has long sleeves–making it at least semi-weather cooperative, as always with her–it has a wide and low sweetheart neckline that exposes most of her chest.
"What? Does it look bad?"
"No, it's just different. I'm used to your clothes being much more..." I trail off, trying to find the right word.
She rolls her eyes. "Frumpy?"
"Not quite, but yes. You were two cardigans and a cat away from becoming a crazy cat lady."
"Wouldn't I also have to be crazy about cats?" Laura counters, crossing her arms over her chest. All that does is make her boobs look bigger.
"It only takes one, sis."
Laura's brown eyes dance under dark purple eyeshadow. "You seem to be in a better mood. Get all the bad stuff out of your system?"
I shrug, thinking it over. "I think so. I don't know. I wanted to call Isaac today and apologize, but I'm not sure he wants to talk to me." And he was at school today. And he's probably at the game now. And afterward he'll probably be too tired to talk. I'm exceptionally skilled at generating excuses. Arguably one of my best and worst qualities.
"How can you know that if you don't call?"
"Because normally he would've by now. He always has."
Laura steps further into my room, coming to sit on the bed next to my blanket encased body. I'm wrapped up like a burrito.
"Don't play that game with him," she insists. "You're too old for that. If you want to talk, then call him. It's that easy."
