1. I held onto her tightly, and took the first step.

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REMINDER THAT THIS IS ONLY A FIRST CHAPTER PREVIEW, THIS BOOK IS PUBLISHED

"Freshman are so cute. Look at them, they're so tiny. Like walking, talking examples of why to use condoms."

I snorted and glanced up at my best friend. I'd met Lacey Parker in fourth grade, when she'd very seriously told me that I was allowed to be her friend because I was pretty. In retrospect, that was likely the type of toxic shit parents told their daughters to stay away from, but Lacey could pull it off like collecting attractive friends was no different than collecting cute erasers.

"They're not that much younger than us," I pointed out.

Lacey hummed. "It's not the age that matters, babe. It's the maturity."

"Where'd you get that line," I asked. "Your latest college pedo case?"

"I can't help that I look 21," Lacey defended.

"Actually, you can," I pointed out, but Lacey chose to ignore me, just like I chose to not really get on her case about the company she kept. Lacey was beautiful, dark skinned and curvy, with a smile that looked like it belonged in a dentist commercial. Her mother had braided her hair for the first day of school - I was silently making funeral preperations for anyone stupid enough to ask to touch it.

"Whoa," Lacey muttered, in a shocked tone that pulled me out of my own head. "What the hell. Is that a new kid?"

My brows furrowed. Grant wasn't exactly a small school, but it wasn't normal for anyone to transfer during their senior year. I followed Lacey's gaze, but it wasn't hard to figure out exactly who she was talking about.

The girl had to be new. She was taking advantage of Grant's lax dress code like her life depended on it. Thigh high boots, ripped up leggings, wearing just an oversized Sex Pistols T-shirt like it qualified as a dress. Her hair was beautiful. Long enough it draped down her back in a shade of blonde that actually looked natural.

"Huh," I said. "She's pretty."

Lacey looked at me like I'd lost my mind, but I ignored her. "Hey, you're on the welcoming committee. You should go say hi."

"Whatever," Lacey replied. "The committee is for the Freshman."

I rolled my eyes and slid off of the table I'd been sitting on. "Fine. I'll go say hi." I snagged one of the pamphlets reserved for the incoming newbies on my way across the cafeteria.

The new girl was texting when I approached, but she looked up when she realized I was headed her way, and I almost stopped walking. I'd thought she was pretty from across the room, but I hadn't realized how pretty. Unlike her style, her features were simple, symmetric, probably belonged on a statue, and -

"H-hi," I stuttered out, when I realized I was staring.

"Hi," She said back, a little warily, although she was smiling. I didn't say anything, my stupid mouth had gone dry. She shifted, tucking her phone away, and gestured slightly to my chest. "Is it Lee-na or Len-ah?"

I'd almost forgotten I'd taken one of the committees name tags in a fit of boredom, and she wasn't just some kind of witch that could guess my name from my tits. "Uh, Len-ah. Most people usually go with the first."

She lifted a shoulder. "It's more common."

"It's short for Helena," I explained. "I was named after my great-grandmother."

"I'm Juliet," she said, holding out a hand. "Named after Capulet."

"Your parents big fans of dramatic thirteen year olds?" I asked.

Just JulietOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora