Knox's Girl (Carmichael Series #1)✔️

Typical Summer Night

**ALSO, because I'm getting this question by literally everyone and that's my fault because I never really addressed it to everyone and only told people who asked in the comments I WILL NOT BE POSTING A PICTURE OF POPPY'S CHARACTER! My reasoning for this is because, as a reader, it personally ruins a story for me if the author posts a picture of the main character and they aren't what I expected them to look like. Imagine whoever you want!! I hope that helps those that were wondering about this!**

**Edited**

Poppy's POV

The morning sunlight streamed in through the sheer window curtains, making it impossible for me to get even one more minute of sleep. I groaned and rolled over, trying to decide the most productive way to spend my last free week of summer before rush week took place and consumed all of my time.

Kiara had somehow managed to talk me into joining a sorority, how she'd done it was still a mystery to even myself. Her family is full of legacies, something I had to google in order to understand, and since we've been attached at the hip since birth she insisted I partook in the experience with her.

"It would so cool, Poppy! Think about it! We would officially be sisters. Not that we aren't already, but you get what I'm saying," she replied while waving her hand in front of her flippantly. I giggled, remembering how excited she'd been when we held the initial conversation a couple weeks prior. It was obvious none of that excitement had died down since then. The truth was, it was only partially because of her excitement that I agreed to go through with the whole thing. The other reason was that I've never been one to say no to someone - especially when it comes to the happiness of those I deeply care about. I glanced around the now-barren walls of my bedroom that had once been littered with photos of me throughout my life. I let out a deep sigh, letting my mind wander to memories of my childhood.

A small smile rested upon my face as I thought about how Kiara and I came to be friends. She was in the delivery room next to my own at the hospital and the story is that we were both extremely fussy, constantly crying. When the labor and delivery ward became more crowded, they were forced to move Kiara's mother into my own mother's room to make room for the numerous incoming deliveries. They were shocked when Kiara and I both ceased our crying the second we were near. They tested the theory by removing one of us from the room and, sure enough, we both started screaming again. It wasn't until both of our families were discharged and sent home that they discovered that our families were, in fact, neighbors. Kiara and I have been inseparable ever since. Rumor has it we even took our first poop together. I giggled at the thought. Had my grandparents not left their beautiful three-story family home to my mom and dad when they retired and uprooted their lives to Spain, my parents would have been forced to move into a dinky apartment clear across town - separating Kiara and I forever.

With my mom falling pregnant with me at sixteen after a careless-prom-night-gone-wrong, she just wasn't ever able to attend college and get an education further than her high school diploma. Even that, within itself, was difficult for her to obtain; or so she's told me on numerous occasions when lecturing me on waiting until marriage to have sex.

Thankfully for my mom and dad's sake, though, my dad's parents were completely loaded and absolutely adored my mother - even after they found out about her trailer park background. I remember her telling me how she'd been terrified they would treat her how everyone one else in town did when they found out about her roots, but they took her in as if she were one of their own. After finding out she was carrying their first grandchild, they bought everything needed to raise me comfortably and even let my mom permanently move into one of their many guest rooms.

Because my dad was a year older than my mom, he ended up leaving her to take care of me by herself while he went to college at Princeton. I couldn't believe it when my mom told me that piece of information. It was no wonder I had absolutely no early memories of my father. When I was younger, my mom told me a sugar-coated version of the story; how my father just wasn't ever able to make it home, even on holiday breaks, because he was too busy with his studies. Turns out, that wasn't the truth.